A/N: The story isn't already going quite according to plan – and up to that previous chapter was the planned bit… from here on, it isn't. Tread carefully people – you're heading into dangerous uncharted territory!
Chapter 3 Reviews:
Hel – I'm glad I've caught your interest. There's lots more chapters to come!
~Chapter 4~
They had been walking for nearly a day, and they seemed no closer to Moria. For food, some of the orcs that had bows and arrows had managed to shoot down birds, others had been able to catch conies whilst others had decided to fish in the lake nearby a cliff face whilst they had stopped. They had settled in a dell, where the wind bit less harshly and the snow was more settled. Trees sparsely popped up here and there, and most seemed as if they did not belong in that snowy clime, as if the mountain had creeped down to them, not that they had gone to the mountain. Ragnäkah watched the newborn cloaked orc. He sat staring at his knees, waiting for someone to leave him the bones of their meal to gnaw on; he had no weapons of his own to hunt with, and no one was willing to lend him theirs. As if his prayers had been answered, a magpie fell into his lap, an arrow piercing its heart.
"Oi! That's mine!" An orc carrying a bow and waving his free fist raged. "You give that to me!" The nameless one – as he had come to be known as – paid no attention to the orc's commands, but instead ran up a tree and hid there, devouring the uncooked bird. The orc with the bow cursed at him all of the time. "I'll get you – you wait!" Ragnäkah sniggered.
"Lucky bastard," he muttered, pointing out what had happened to Yutshrug. Yutshrug shrugged – as was his manner – and drew his fur-trimmed shirt closer to him, rubbing his bare arms. He began to wonder if he was going to suffer severe hypothermia soon, since his sleeveless fur neck shirt was blatantly not enough to keep him warm.
"Wh-wh-wh-wh-where's-s-s-s-s-s G-g-g-g-Grôltakh?" He shivered. "I d-d-d-don't want 'im a-a-ab-b-b-bandoning us now th-th-that 'e's put those U-u-u-Uruks as most of his lieutenants. They'll t-t-t-t-take liberties." They heard a wolf – or more precisely a warg – howl in the distance and it appeared that Yutshrug was chilled even more to the bone.
"He put the Uruks as his lieutenants to prevent them from wanting to rise up, to give them something to do – diplomacy and all that crap. He's over there, by that ruined tree. I think that he is meant to be looking for an entrance of some sort, hidden in the cliff face. He didn't seem to be able to find it though. He thinks that that -" Ragnäkah pointed a pile of rocks, collapsed around a large, boulder-filled crack, "could have been the entrance." He sighed. "If it is then we will have to look elsewhere for another entrance."
Grôltakh returned to them only a few moments later, muttering to himself.
"We can't get in this way," he growled. "We'll have to…" he faded off, watching the nameless orc and another hunt fish near the lake's edge. The water was rippling violently, and yet they were barely disturbing the surface. The nameless one was watching the surface, engrossed, whilst the other's attention was on a fish in the shallows. The water was suddenly torn by tentacles that wrapped around the hunting orc and pulled him into the depths without so much as a scream from the unwary prey. A huge clamour went up, and the nameless one scuttled backwards on his hands and feet, barely avoiding the tentacles that reached out towards him.
"Get away from the water!" Grôtakh shouted to all of his company. "For Sauron's sake, get away from the water!" The orcs didn't need Grôltakh's voice to obey their natural instincts. Within seconds, a three metre diameter around the lake had been cleared of all apart from four Uruks, who were swinging a snaga backwards and forwards and about to toss him into the murky pool. Grôltakh would have loved to see the creature in the water devour the orc as much as the Uruks did, but the orc was a fat one, and Grôltakh had decided that they might need to eat him later if food became low. "Put him down!" Grôltakh commanded. They did not obey. He repeated his command and reluctantly, they dropped the snaga onto the ground, glaring viciously at Grôltakh who had spoiled their fun.
"Pack up! We're moving!" He called to everyone. He looked back to the water and shook his head. The nameless one came up to his side, only four inches shorter than Grôltakh.
"Where to now then?" The nameless one inquired.
"There is a small window I know of that lets light into the underground halls of the Dwarves," he explained. "With some rope, we may be able to get inside, and continue onwards to the other side." The nameless one nodded and rejoined the group. The sky above thundered. It would rain soon. In the distance, a warg howled once more.
~End of Chapter 4~
A/N: What a useless chapter that was. Sorry.