Chapter 13 Reviews:
Hel – Aah! So that's why Boromir took so long to get to Rivendell! Why can't I remember these details – especially since I read this book only four or so months ago! X ( Well at least I'm making all of these mistakes in the author's notes, and not in the actual storyline. To be honest, I wasn't sure how much everyone would like the Old Portals idea. I knew I had a very short amount of time to get them to Gondor in, and I had to find them a way when the bridge had collapsed, but I really didn't realise how short the time was until I went back and looked at the appendix. Thirteen days – not long, eh? The penalty for using the Old Portals will be explained later on, in the sequel (it's a long time to wait for an explanation, I know, but I can't work it into this storyline). The reason the elves and dwarves stopped using the portals was because of this penalty. And yes – we'll definitely be getting a visit from the Druadan. Lékfrêtz could have used Grôltakh to get rid of Yishvruk, but I doubt Grôltakh would have accepted – he has his own priorities and anyway, I think Lékfrêtz is keeping that honour for himself! And as for Ragnäkah and the nameless one, well, this is what this chapter is for!
A/N: You know how I said before (back in chapter 6) that there were going to be two chapters that were barely over 400 words? Well, it looks like I fixed that problem.
~Chapter 14~
Grôltakh's group set up in a small glade in the forest. Once it became clear that no more orcs were going to come through the Old Portals, Grôltakh asked his lieutenants to find out how many their group now consisted of. They had lost a few back in Moria, but their numbers had remained relatively the same since the split. He still regretted losing Ragnäkah in Moria, but he felt no pain in losing his old friend – after all, he had seen orcs (both friends, enemies and unknown ones) lost to the final silence. Yet his words of knowledge (and sometimes even wisdom) would have been welcome now as much as they had ever been. Well, no point in dwelling on the past. Right now, I need to get these men to Minas Tirith, and myself into Mordor. Sentries had been put on guard, even though there seemed to be nothing in this forest that could harm them. But Grôltakh knew that what there was and what there seemed were usually two entirely different worlds. Something was in this forest that made Grôltakh and some of the other orcs uneasy, but Grôltakh was exhausted and his primal needs took over his mental fears. He laid his body down into the soft, springy grass, placing his head against a cold stone and dozed.
*
Ragnäkah and the nameless one stood in the middle of the armoury. The door came under heavy battering by the creatures outside, slowly disintegrating and being torn down by long clawed paws. As the barrier between the orcs and the… things became less and less, the chirruping noise seemed to grow in intensity.
"I can't see what's tearin' the door down!" Ragnäkah cried, raising his sword in front of him, his hand wavering about wildly whilst he tried to restrain his fear.
"That's because it's invisible!" The younger orc answered. "I don't think those things are of the same species!" Ragnäkah had never, never encountered something with the capability of invisibility before. This was going to be a truly unique – and deadly experience. Ragnäkah and the nameless one backed up against the furthest corner of the room, grasping their swords as tightly as they could. Before they could do anything else, the door shattered into a million splinters, and the creatures stole into the room at lightning pace. It was the nameless one that made the first kill, going for the smaller creatures that had attacked them earlier. The black blade met with their necks, and blood marred the blade and the floor. The small ones dropped dead. Ragnäkah took on the invisible larger adversaries. He slashed his blade out in front of him, inexpertly and ineptly hacking away at air and missing the enemies altogether.
"I need help 'ere, little one!" Ragnäkah exclaimed, only just managing to catch one of the invisible creatures and making it bleed grey blood. Together, the inexperienced swordsmen managed to advance on the creatures, pushing them all the way to the door and getting themselves out of the room corner. The cries of the beasts ended, and the room fell silent once more. Both orcs were gasping for breath. Both could hear and feel their dark hearts pounding away in their chests.
"That was bloody brilliant!" The nameless orc cried. Ragnäkah muttered some choice curses under his breath and attempted to casually swing the sword in his hands; oh, how he wanted his whip back so badly! He would have enjoyed battle if he could know if the odds weren't impossibly stacked against him, that he had a few more comrades – trained ones – with him, and a weapon that he knew how to use! His previous sword had been mainly for show, but it had also been lighter and shaped differently than the one in his hand right now, so even though he had used a sword in the past, it did not help him wield this one any better.
The nameless one began to walk out of the room, but Ragnäkah's gut instinct told him something was wrong. He pulled the nameless one back into the armoury and jabbed at the air in front of him. The sword slid through the air with difficulty, and it shrieked in a high pitched voice. More grey blood fell into the dust, and both orcs swiftly backed into the room; more of both types of creature were coming.
"I don't think we're going t' get out of here!" Ragnäkah whined in a moment of Yutshrug-like-pessimism. This time the creatures came at them in larger numbers, and no matter how well the two orcs disposed of their enemies, more constantly materialized to supplement them. They soon found themselves backing into the corner of the room once more. Ragnäkah tripped backwards on some weaponry on the floor. He had tripped over some spears, but his eyes caught sight of what he had desired all of this time – a whip! With no notion of how close the enemy was to killing him, he reached out and grabbed the weapon from by his foot, looking at it and grinning widely. The nameless one – though standing and doing better at fighting with a sword than Ragnäkah – found himself overwhelmed by the odds, and he stumbled backwards, tripped over Ragnäkah's foot and fell between the older orc's legs.
The creatures advanced onto them slowly, as if time itself had turned to treacle and death was mocking them, wanting them to endure their last moments of life in pain and anguish like countless thousands of souls whom had experienced the misfortune of encountering their kind. As the little things pounced for their necks, the young orc tried to scuttle even further back into the corner of the room, pressing his weight against Ragnäkah's body. I wish that I was with Grôltakh – or even Yutshrug right now! Terrified, Ragnäkah raised his arm to shield his eyes from the monsters, leaning back against the wall also. Then suddenly, the wall seemed to disintegrate, and both orcs fell backwards into darkness.
~End of Chapter 14~