Chapter 8 Reviews:
Hel – I bet none of you readers are going to read this long reply unless you get bored and have nothing better to do whilst waiting for the next chapter. Anyways, I was going to keep the Moria orcs all mysterious, but I do want to please my reviewers and I do listen to all comments and suggestions, so yes – they will get their own little section in this story! And as for the Uruk-hai obeying Grôltakh, I do agree – it's very convenient. I like to think that Grôltakh is very charismatic. Very, very charismatic. Sometimes (even though I hate them) these conveniences have to be accepted, like how in 'The Hobbit' (Spoiler warning) the Eagles were conveniently around to save Bilbo, Gandalf and the rest of Thorin's company from the Goblins of the Misty Mountains. *Sniggers at the mental image of an Istari climbing up and into a tree* And the rebellion isn't going to take long – not long at all : ) [hint hint hint]. And lastly, as for this period where no one is getting killed - it isn't going to last much longer *rubs hands together in sadistic glee*. Bwahahahahahahahaha!
A/N: I have given up on trying to get the stars (asterisks) aligned in the centre; I have tried the 'align centre' feature in Microsoft Word – fanfiction.net does not acknowledge it and puts the stars to the left, I have tried tab, and the stars still go to the left, and then I tried to use the space bar to align them perfectly in the centre of the document. The result? The stars go anywhere and everywhere along their line, especially when your screen is of a certain resolution. Well, some things in life are sent to annoy you.
~Chapter 9~
They had watched from far above as the two orcs fought and fell into the crevice, and observed as another orc took charge – of all the things in a group with a large number of Uruk-hai! And, (quite luckily) the orc that had spotted them had been in the struggle, and had fallen down the crevice along with that other orc that he had been fighting with. This meant that whoever these newcomers were, they did not yet know that they had been spotted and found out. The three scouts returned to the main tunnels and stealthily crawled their way forwards and upwards, making a turn every now and again, knowing instinctively where they were and where they were heading in the complete darkness. Soon enough, they came to a hole directly above them and a small amount of light from above ebbed its way into the tunnel. The three scouts climbed out of the hole, one after the other and into the main hall of the orc chief.
The hall was in ruins and appeared ready to collapse at any moment. At least four pillars were completely destroyed – and possibly three of these had been demolished by a cave troll that had been the chief's entertainment in recent years. Directly in the centre of the hall, there was a crudely fashioned throne, chained to which there were two rotting corpses – one on each side. When they had been alive, they had been foolish enough to try to cross the Misty Mountains at night, and when their screams and pleas had faded into their deaths, the orc chief had kept them there still; he liked the smell of their corpses. And upon the throne was the orc chief himself: Yishvruk, bathed in the dim glow of a small flickering torch behind his throne. He was a very rotund orc, and the remnants of his leather trousers were the only things that kept him from being completely naked. Tarnished silver rings went horizontally down the left side of his face, and tattoos covered the rest of his body. The three orc scouts stepped forwards to him together, and he leaned towards them, grimacing, and awaiting their news.
"There is a large orc and Uruk-hai presence in the south west halls on the lower levels," one of the scouts told him. "Possibly between three hundred and four hundred." A sound came from their right, and for the first time, the scouts noticed the armour belonging to some orc of high power, but they could not see the face because a broken pillar was in the way, and the rest was shrouded in shadow.
"Did you get a good look at the leader?" Chief Yishvruk asked them.
"We were… unsure of whom the leader was," the third scout began. "But there was one orc that did seem to take control of the situation." The armour in the corner stirred again.
"Describe him," the callous tones that belonged to the orc bearing the armour demanded.
"He was…" the second scout began, trying to remember what he looked like. "Teal skinned, and he wasn't wearing the normal orc apparel, no! It was – was a time torn greatcoat of green tones, belonging to some conquered enemy, perhaps. And there was a sword at his side. It looked elvish in design."
"Did he have any piercings? Any tattoos?" The armour asked, though he sounded as if he knew who it was.
"We were too far away to see," the first orc scout replied. The armour snarled a low, deep snarl.
"Let me deal with him," the orc in the armour asked. The chief nodded, and when the orc scouts looked back, the armour had moved from the shadows and was gone.
*
"I don't think that our 'leader' is leading us anywhere – except to our deaths!" One orc muttered loud enough for Grôltakh's ears to hear. They were in yet another exceptionally large hall, and the voices reverberated easily.
"Our supplies ain't gonna last us much longer at this rate if he keeps leading us to dead ends," an Uruk growled. "I think one of us Uruk-hai should take over," he continued. To this, Grôltakh turned around and confronted him. The uruk was Uthrutz, whom he had expected to rebel.
"An' where would this 'Uruk-hai leader' take you, Urthrutz?" He asked the Uruk. "Would 'e take you back to Isengard? Or through those strange trees? Because I'll tell y' all now that the conditions won't change! No, my lads! The only way is forwards!"
"Forwards to our deaths?" Another orc sneered, who had really just repeated what the first orc had said.
"Forwards to the bridge of Khazad-dum; once across that we shall be on the other side of Moria, and we shall rest and hunt before we follow along the river to Gondor."
"And which way is this bridge?" Urthrutz growled. "You have no idea where we are, do you? You're leading us wherever you please!" The orcs and Uruks behind Uthrutz jeered, and those with swords or spears clashed them against shields or the floor.
"You chose t' follow me!" Grôltakh raged. "You chose if you wanted t' go t' Gondor by my route! And you still 'ave the choice to turn back now if you so please. And I do know where we are, for I have been here before!" Grôltakh lied. The group fell silent. Reluctantly, Grôltakh turned his back on the rebellious group and his eyes met the gaze of a figure in the shadows in front of him.
The man's armour was an impressive and intimidating array of metal edged with bone, covering his entire body from head to foot. The individual had malicious grey eyes, which were nearly the same colour as his black, mostly grey hair that was tied back by more bones. The figure was calmly spinning a large curved sword between his hands, gazing straight at Grôltakh. And calm he might have been; Yutshrug tugged at his shoulder and made him aware of the archers and swordsmen above his head, clinging to the pillars. And a group emerged behind the lone orc with the sword.
"Well," the harsh voice of the lone orc said cheerily, "I wasn't expecting to see you here, Golug-bûrzum."
~End of Chapter 9~
A/N/: And you won't find out who 'Golug-bûrzum' is until the next few chapters – though I'm sure that there are those of you out there who have already worked out who it is and what this name means.