Chapter 5 Reviews:

Hel – Another much needed suggestion for padding!  I'm not sure if I'll be able to use them all of the time, but where I feel they could be used to improve to story, I'll use them.  And as for the reaction of the Moria orcs to their 'guests'… we'll see. : )

A/N:  Chapters around this section of the story seemed to have decreased in length – I know of two upcoming chapters that are barely over 400 words – scarcely worth reading because they are so short.  Since this is my first fanfiction, I'll be sure to learn from my mistakes, and not repeat them in the future.  This just another one of those place description/talk chapters.  Please bear with me – it'll pick up by the next chapter – promise!

~Chapter 6~

It seemed like an age had passed before all of the orcs and Uruk-hai had climbed through the window and into the hall, taking with them all of the weapons and other useful items that they had fled with from Isengard.  Had a 'not so slender' uruk not managed to get himself wedged between the sides of the windows with his backpack on, they would have probably finished getting everyone through long ago.  Especially if some of those orcs had not decided to 'help' get him out.  It had ended with a small skirmish and a large bloodbath.  Grôltakh had somehow managed to take control of the situation before too much noise was made and too many soldiers were either killed or injured, and now they were only waiting for the more serious wounds that had been inflicted in the skirmish to be tended to and healed.

Sentries had been posted by the doors to warn of any unwelcome company approaching.  The orcs had managed to remain surprisingly quiet considering their numbers and how it was their nature to be as ruthless and raucous as they saw fit.  But perhaps the air surrounding the mines had caused them to realise the potential danger they could be in.  After all, the Moria orcs did not know that they were coming, and it had not been said that they would be greeted with open arms.

Ragnäkah had been studying the pillars, most notably one only a few feet away from the doors on the left side of the hall.  Near the base, there were the definite markings of an orkish language.  Some of the words he could decipher for himself, having similarities with the orkish languages of Orthanc and Mordor, whilst other parts he could not.  It seemed to be directions to different places overlayed with curses, warnings – and messages to someone called 'Gob'  One of these messages to 'Gob' he managed to translate almost fully:

Dear Gob, I need three spears, two swords and a bottle of wine by Thursday.  If you do not do this for me, then I will cause considerable harm to your- the writing overlapped with others and couldn't be read -when I see you next.

            Kurzblod.

Ragnäkah scratched his head and sighed.

            "What a strange people," he thought aloud.

            "Hey you!"  The nameless orc shouted at him, breaking the uneasy near-quiet of the group.

            "I'm Ragnäkah!"  Ragnäkah replied, growling at the insolent tones of the minor.

            "Whatever.  We're moving!"  The two orcs rejoined Yutshrug and Grôltakh at the head of the group, walking side-by-side.  "So…" the nameless one turned to Grôltakh.  "You were the guys who brought me into this world."

            "As such, yes," Grôltakh replied, eyeing the orc from the side.

            "Well…"

            "Well, what?"

            "Aren't you gonna name me then?  Isn't that kind of a tradition that happens?"

            "I ain't gonna name you," Grôltakh replied.  Ragnäkah told the nameless one the same thing.

            "So what am I going to do for a name, then?"  He asked them.

            "Choose one yourself," Ragnäkah muttered, getting fed up of the youngster's company.  But the young orc couldn't think of a name for himself; that was why he was asking them.  The nameless one looked towards Yutshrug with an expression that on an orc, almost looked pleadingly.

            "Aren't you going to find a name for me?"  Yutshrug shrugged.  The conversation came to an abrupt end, and for a while they continued to walk in silence.

            "So… you going t' get yourself some clothes?"  Yutshrug asked the nameless one.

            "No," he replied.  Grôltakh, Yutshrug and Ragnäkah all turned to gape at him.  The nameless one suddenly broke into a wide grin to show that he was joking, and then the smile vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.  "There ain't really anythin' that I've seen that hasn't fallen apart when I went to take it," he muttered, pulling his cloak - his only clothing closer to his body.

More time passed in silence whilst Grôltakh tried to find his way around the mines.  Sometimes they came to dead ends, where paths and bridges had crumbled away. Other times Grôltakh made a mistake and they found themselves in a room with no other doors, and they would have to back up the way that they had come.  But at least they were happy in the darkness, away from the torturous light of the sun, even if it did feel unwelcoming.  The time came for rest, and they settled in another large hall of the dwarves, piling orc and dwarf bodies up carelessly so that more space could be created.  Then, when no more space was available, the bones were thrown down into the crevices of the mountain, each making a unique noise as they fell.  Of course, they had been searched first for anything of interest, but the residents inhabiting Moria in these recent times had already raided the dead.

~End of Chapter Six~

A/N:  Now I will go and fulfil my promise to you about picking up the pace.