Chapter 19 Reviews:
Hel – Heh heh – the nameless one never learns! : ) I'm sure Ragnäkah will throttle him… and throttle him… and throttle him… and the nameless one probably will think it's funny.
~Chapter 20~ (Wahey!)
"Lugbûrz," Ragnäkah breathed, staring up at the immense towers and their awe inspiring and horror provoking design. Huge towers seemed to spiral ever-upwards, with only one tower higher than the rest. The shapes that created the structure were sharp, arcane and blacker than a starless midnight sky. It was difficult to decipher what was a walkway, or a balcony, or an outer staircase which led to somewhere else. Sulphurous fumes could be smelt all around them, mixing in with the aroma of rotting corpses and waste. Howling winds and gushing screams met his ears, sending a powerfully corporeal shiver down his spine. An eerie atmosphere clung to the building like vines to trees and rocks. And there was not one place you could hide where you could escape the inexorable, smothering feeling of eyes. Eyes that made sure you kept your duty to the Dark Lord. Eyes that saw all and kept you safe from approaching threats. Even though Ragnäkah's few stays here had been short, it had always felt as if he was home. Here, he was safe from the attacks of humans, elves and dwarves. Here, a fortress stood that would never be taken.
"Well, we can't dwell out here forever! I want food!" Yutshrug said cheerily, with the hint of a demand.
"When don't you want food?" Grôltakh muttered. The four orcs strode up to one of the gaping entrances, but the two guards lazily tilted their lances across the doorway, effectively barring their entry. It was strange how there were so few guards on the doors – in previous visits, there had been at least four – but he supposed most orcs were out battling the humans and only a 'skeleton crew' remained to guard the Dark Tower. The sentinel's armour was nearly as black as the tower itself, and both looked identical. There were two large shoulder guards on each arm, one on top of the other, and the top one pointing upwards more. Slatted armour covered their chests in a fashion similar to what the smithies under Orthanc had made for the Uruk-hai, and they wore shin guards similar to the nameless one's. A sword rested on one of their hips, facing the outer side of their bodies that was not close to the door.
"What is your business here?" The one orc demanded in the Black Speech. "Don't you know that all orcs are to report to the Black Gates? Be off with you!" Yutshrug and the nameless orc looked at each other and shrugged; they couldn't understand a word that was said. Ragnäkah understood most of the conversation, and began to turn to go. Grôltakh stopped him and glided up to speak to the guards.
"I am 'Elf-darkness'," Grôltakh proclaimed in Black speech in his most omnipotent voice. "And I demand t' be let in. My business is my own an' does not concern you." The guards seemed to recognise the name, but it did not change their stance on the situation. In fact, their grips on the lances tightened. They switched to the Westron language.
"Everything that we let pass into this tower is of our concern," the other guard retorted. "We ain't allowed to let a bunch a' nobodies inside. Special business only." Grôltakh came closer to one of the guards, taking full advantage of his tall height and using it to intimidate the guard. He grinned maliciously at him.
"Bruzmûk will be displeased if you hinder me any longer." At the mention of that one orc's name, the guards seem to relent a little more and an audible gasp could be heard from Ragnäkah. If the name surprised them, it did not last long.
"Ha! Bruzmûk - now we know he's lying! What business would he have with someone of Bruzmûk's nature?"
"Bruzmûk doesn't have time for orcs like them," the other guard told his friend, nodding his head at the group of four in front of them. "In case you didn't hear the first time, we'll tell you again: piss off – you are not going to be getting in here!" The lances stayed where they were placed, barring the doorway, and the malevolence remained in Grôltakh's smile.
"What do you think Bruzmûk will do to you if you hinder his old friend more than necessary?"
"What do you think he will do to you if you waste much more of our time with this nonsense?" The guard on the left retorted. The nameless one was becoming incredibly bored. Not only was he incredibly bored, but hearing about this mystery Bruzmûk whetted his curiosity – something that Ragnäkah could sense in him like a bad omen. And it was a bad omen. Three seconds later, the deranged orc broke into an ear piercing howl and ran at the entrance. Both guards were so preoccupied with Grôltakh that they were unprepared and did not have enough seconds to swing their lances around in time to skewer him. And so, the nameless one barged through the doors, grabbing at the lances, pulling them from the orc guards' hands and taking them with him. Everyone was stunned. Then, with the sound of two loud 'thunks' as the lances hit the floor, a frenzy ensued.
"Oi! Get back here! Guards! We need more guards!" The one sentry shouted whilst running after the nameless one. The other guard stood firm, and began to draw his sword. Grôltakh saw his chance. He ran after the nameless one, with Ragnäkah in close pursuit.
"Where do you two think you're going?!" The second guard ran after them.
Apart from Yutshrug, all of the small group were inside Lugbûrz and were currently attempting to evade the two sentries and any more that might appear. The noise they were making was an absolute clamour; it could probably be heard by all of Mordor! He lingered a little while longer on the entrance, staring at the armies gathering in front of Lugbûrz, and the Uruk-hai, who were 'persuading' the snaga to move with their whips. Yutshrug turned and went inside.
~End of Chapter 20~
A/N: I can't believe 'slatted' is an actual word. *Shrugs*