He walked down the slope and looked into a swift flowing stream at himself. He dragged a clawed finger over his ugly face, and narrowed his eyes, splashing the water with his hand so ripples obscured his reflection. He sat back on the streams banks. If he could he would have wept, but he did not know how. All he knew was pain, murder and hate. He did not know of love. There was no orc word for love. He felt it though. He felt it when his heart broke, each time he destroyed a life. Be it human, animal, or plant. He did not extract joy from destroying beautiful things like his brothers. He did not gain joy from anything. Perhaps… Perhaps if he did not have to fight anymore. If he was left in peace, and could enjoy his surroundings without knowing he would have to befoul them…Perhaps then he could know love. Or happiness.
But not now. Not here. Not like this. A messenger had come today. Tomorrow they would leave for Helm's Deep, in the mountains, meeting with another squadron on the way. Apparently Orthanc was emptied, and they would band with another group of Uruk-Hai and prepare for battle. Burzgrat stood and shook his head. He walked back to his small hole within the thick mass of sleeping orcs and fell into restless dreams.
He awoke the next morning and it was back to marching. Long, long hours of marching ahead of him and behind him until at last they met with the Uruks. They joined the end of the huge band. Never before had Burzgrat seen such a large army, except when first training in the black land, far away. He plodded along in deep thought. He wondered who the innocent victims they slaughtered would be tonight. Who were the men? Would there be women…children? He clutched his sword in rage. Why was he being forced to do this? Why did he have to kill those who had done no wrong to him? Shouldn't he be allowed to choose his battles? His enemies? No. No. He was not allowed this. Never would he be allowed this.