Middle Earth and Hogwarts
Sydney Kiss
Chapter 9
An Orc and an Entwife
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter Characters or places, they belong to J. K. Rowling. I do not own any of the places or people from Lord of the Rings, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. Also, the character Fallen the Blue belongs to Sage McJet (another fanfic author.... go read some of his stuff.) Tara Leonheart, Jasmaugik the Orc, Keyone Lufton the Hobbit, Golenesqua the Entwife and Istabugh the Dwarf all belong to Tara Sarber. Justin Wolfe and Hope belong to Melissa (troubledfeline@yahoo.com.) She writes under the pen name of Nosferatu. Rhymes and Jules belong to Kristan Steele. The adventures here were co-written by all of the people above, in a RPG group, and I am just putting them in a readable fashion, because it is a really good story.
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Jasmaugik the Orc was at another annoying day of back breaking mining with the other smelly, dirty, bloodthirsty orcs. She did worse than hate it... she loathed it. Jasmaugik must have been the only Orc in Mordor that didn't relish in the orders passed down from the kings and lords of the Dark City. She hated dirt and darkness, blood and death. While thinking of all the other places she'd rather be, Jasmaugik accidentally dropped something she was working on, and it turned out that somebody thought it was rather important. The Head Orc whipped her across her back 40 times. His cruel laughter cut into her heart as much as the leather cut her back. Later that night, Jas decided that it was time for a change. She quickly gathered what few things she would need and left the foundry in Mordor never to return.
Her skin was so raw that it stung with the wind. She had to get away from everything that Mordor represented to her. Thoughts of hatred ran through her mind about the Orcs. Was it wrong to hate one's own race?
Jasmaugik ran as far as she could while the sweat and wind poured into the cuts on her back. She stopped to rest once in a while, but never for very long. Chances were, she wouldn't even be missed, but Jasmaugik had learned not to take chances when they weren't needed. Finally, after all the years of stench and filth and grime, she stopped in a stream and bathed the dirt from her body. Her skin turned a grey-ish peach instead of the near-black of most orcs. The water cleansed the cuts on her back, making her feel ready to move again. When Jasmaugik set back out on the road, she could move more swiftly.
Making her way around Fanghorn and through the wild country, the orc realized what she had been missing in the dark lands of Mordor. Skirting the occasional hut and once a large castle, she noticed two cloaked figures who may have been human. Who knew though, in Middle Earth? They could just as easily been Black Riders or Hobbits (from this distance it was hard to tell) or elves. Jas had never seen any of those races unless they were being tortured in the dungeons below Mordor.
Jasmaugik quietly skirted around them and tried to decide what they were and if they were a threat to me. Knowing that most were scared of orcs, I stepped out in front of them, one hand on my blade. She stood solidly in the path. The first black figure was an elf. Jasmaugik's expression softened and her stance lightened, but she was ready if they wanted to strike her.
Strider's blade was drawn almost before he realized it. He stood protectively in front of Tara.
"Orc, I will give you one warning because you seem lost. We two are not for your meal, weather you say so or not. If you come any closer though, I will empty your belly of whatever it may hold already." His stance seemed relaxed, but he was on the balls of his feet, ready for a fight, waiting for the right opportunity to put his ancestor's sword to work.
"Easy, man. Isa no hurt you or kills you or eats you or anything. I most want away from dark places of Mordor." Jasmaugik stood, ready to defend herself if the man decided to attack her. Up closer, she could see that the girl was obviously elvish. "I no want to hurt no people no more. I just go away from Orcs and bad places. I hate them most. Jasmaugik is a good Orc. No more forging metal for killing or hurting. Mesa a good person. Mesa no want hurt." Her sword started to go limp in her hand, and the orc slowly morphed into a normal position. "Me hope most bring peace from me no other Orc. So am I worthy to be killed?"
"You will find it a hard task to bring peace from anyone with what your kind has done to so many families." Strider did not ease his position. He was not quite as trusting. Tara stood behind him, but looked over his shoulder interedestly. "I'll not kill you today though. If I have learned one thing through this life, it is that people deserve to have second chances. It is not your fault that your race is known for being bloodthirsty and savage servers of evil. I hope that I will never have to kill anybody, though sometimes it must be done to save another." Strider stood up quickly and sheathed his blade. He could always get it again quickly enough. "You must be warned, young orc, that the eyes of Strider the Ranger are upon you, and if you show a shred of the savage cruelty your kind have made well known to the world, you will be punished and I will show no more mercy."
Jasmaugik nodded solemnly.
"I no hurts anyone, unlessen they hurts me."
"That is a fair deal. Now, if you don't mind, we have a place to be and I would much prefer to walk on the path that you are standing on..."
"Of course, Strider the Ranger." She hurried behind them into the little clearing so that they may pass on their way. The two travelers passed on. Strider looked back over his shoulder occasionally to make sure that the monster, however sane it seemed, was not following them.
Tara was scared out of her mind. The huge, dirty pink colored mass of rubbery flesh couldn't be seen. She asked herself endless questions. 'What kind of creature was that? What did it want? Where did it come from?' She looked up to Strider.
"What was that thing? Do you know where it came from?" She hurried along with the dark man's large, quiet steps.
"That was an orc. Orcs are the foulest creatures in this country. Just as much as elves are pure and full of light, orcs are evil and pure darkness. I don't understand what is wrong with that one... she was unusually friendly for her kind." Strider slipped into contemplative silence.
Sydney Kiss
Chapter 9
An Orc and an Entwife
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter Characters or places, they belong to J. K. Rowling. I do not own any of the places or people from Lord of the Rings, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. Also, the character Fallen the Blue belongs to Sage McJet (another fanfic author.... go read some of his stuff.) Tara Leonheart, Jasmaugik the Orc, Keyone Lufton the Hobbit, Golenesqua the Entwife and Istabugh the Dwarf all belong to Tara Sarber. Justin Wolfe and Hope belong to Melissa (troubledfeline@yahoo.com.) She writes under the pen name of Nosferatu. Rhymes and Jules belong to Kristan Steele. The adventures here were co-written by all of the people above, in a RPG group, and I am just putting them in a readable fashion, because it is a really good story.
***********************************************************************************
Jasmaugik the Orc was at another annoying day of back breaking mining with the other smelly, dirty, bloodthirsty orcs. She did worse than hate it... she loathed it. Jasmaugik must have been the only Orc in Mordor that didn't relish in the orders passed down from the kings and lords of the Dark City. She hated dirt and darkness, blood and death. While thinking of all the other places she'd rather be, Jasmaugik accidentally dropped something she was working on, and it turned out that somebody thought it was rather important. The Head Orc whipped her across her back 40 times. His cruel laughter cut into her heart as much as the leather cut her back. Later that night, Jas decided that it was time for a change. She quickly gathered what few things she would need and left the foundry in Mordor never to return.
Her skin was so raw that it stung with the wind. She had to get away from everything that Mordor represented to her. Thoughts of hatred ran through her mind about the Orcs. Was it wrong to hate one's own race?
Jasmaugik ran as far as she could while the sweat and wind poured into the cuts on her back. She stopped to rest once in a while, but never for very long. Chances were, she wouldn't even be missed, but Jasmaugik had learned not to take chances when they weren't needed. Finally, after all the years of stench and filth and grime, she stopped in a stream and bathed the dirt from her body. Her skin turned a grey-ish peach instead of the near-black of most orcs. The water cleansed the cuts on her back, making her feel ready to move again. When Jasmaugik set back out on the road, she could move more swiftly.
Making her way around Fanghorn and through the wild country, the orc realized what she had been missing in the dark lands of Mordor. Skirting the occasional hut and once a large castle, she noticed two cloaked figures who may have been human. Who knew though, in Middle Earth? They could just as easily been Black Riders or Hobbits (from this distance it was hard to tell) or elves. Jas had never seen any of those races unless they were being tortured in the dungeons below Mordor.
Jasmaugik quietly skirted around them and tried to decide what they were and if they were a threat to me. Knowing that most were scared of orcs, I stepped out in front of them, one hand on my blade. She stood solidly in the path. The first black figure was an elf. Jasmaugik's expression softened and her stance lightened, but she was ready if they wanted to strike her.
Strider's blade was drawn almost before he realized it. He stood protectively in front of Tara.
"Orc, I will give you one warning because you seem lost. We two are not for your meal, weather you say so or not. If you come any closer though, I will empty your belly of whatever it may hold already." His stance seemed relaxed, but he was on the balls of his feet, ready for a fight, waiting for the right opportunity to put his ancestor's sword to work.
"Easy, man. Isa no hurt you or kills you or eats you or anything. I most want away from dark places of Mordor." Jasmaugik stood, ready to defend herself if the man decided to attack her. Up closer, she could see that the girl was obviously elvish. "I no want to hurt no people no more. I just go away from Orcs and bad places. I hate them most. Jasmaugik is a good Orc. No more forging metal for killing or hurting. Mesa a good person. Mesa no want hurt." Her sword started to go limp in her hand, and the orc slowly morphed into a normal position. "Me hope most bring peace from me no other Orc. So am I worthy to be killed?"
"You will find it a hard task to bring peace from anyone with what your kind has done to so many families." Strider did not ease his position. He was not quite as trusting. Tara stood behind him, but looked over his shoulder interedestly. "I'll not kill you today though. If I have learned one thing through this life, it is that people deserve to have second chances. It is not your fault that your race is known for being bloodthirsty and savage servers of evil. I hope that I will never have to kill anybody, though sometimes it must be done to save another." Strider stood up quickly and sheathed his blade. He could always get it again quickly enough. "You must be warned, young orc, that the eyes of Strider the Ranger are upon you, and if you show a shred of the savage cruelty your kind have made well known to the world, you will be punished and I will show no more mercy."
Jasmaugik nodded solemnly.
"I no hurts anyone, unlessen they hurts me."
"That is a fair deal. Now, if you don't mind, we have a place to be and I would much prefer to walk on the path that you are standing on..."
"Of course, Strider the Ranger." She hurried behind them into the little clearing so that they may pass on their way. The two travelers passed on. Strider looked back over his shoulder occasionally to make sure that the monster, however sane it seemed, was not following them.
Tara was scared out of her mind. The huge, dirty pink colored mass of rubbery flesh couldn't be seen. She asked herself endless questions. 'What kind of creature was that? What did it want? Where did it come from?' She looked up to Strider.
"What was that thing? Do you know where it came from?" She hurried along with the dark man's large, quiet steps.
"That was an orc. Orcs are the foulest creatures in this country. Just as much as elves are pure and full of light, orcs are evil and pure darkness. I don't understand what is wrong with that one... she was unusually friendly for her kind." Strider slipped into contemplative silence.