****Author's note****br /

Be advised: This chapter contains content that may be distressing for some. Read at your own discretion with the tags/rating of this story in mind. If you do not want to read such content, a summary of important plot details is available at the end of the chapter.

9

Ar-Tashk could sense completion of his task was near. With each campground he struck, the numbers of those willing to resist him dwindled, until he reached the final campground on his map. His scouts had only just left an hour or so before to get the bearings and layout, when they returned bearing troubling news.

"They've gone, sir. The whole camp's been deserted, and it looks like they were in quite a hurry," one assassin informed him, keeping warily out of arm's reach in case the unpredictable olog decided to vent his frustrations on the messenger. Upon seeing the olog's rough mane begin to rise, the assassin hastily added, "But we've sent two of ours to track them down as we speak."

"Good," Ar-Tashk rumbled. "How is it known, they should flee?"

"Thought you might ask tha' sir," the assassin nodded. "We think theys was warned. It's as if by design, the camp's all tidied and nary a trace left."

Ar-Tashk scowled. If his target had been warned to flee before succumbing to the olog's battle party, he wouldn't be able to fulfill his overlord's command. Not only was he to empty the campgrounds of the lesser, sun-sensitive orcs, but he was also to enforce the seizure of all the tark snaga owned by those orcs. Clearly the chief of this deserted campground had thought that simply moving out of the Reaper's warpath was enough to spare him, but the chief had made the critical error of taking all his human slaves when he fled. The hunt was on.

Though two other assassins had been set on the trail of the fleeing orcs, Ar-Tashk's keen sense of smell easily enabled him and the rest of his assassins to catch up. Pinpointing the trail taken by the orc chief as he had fled was a simple task for the olog and the scent of human slaves having been taken along was impossible to miss. Despite being elite killers, the assassins were no match for Ar-Tashk when it came to tracking. The only hindrance was the slaves they had already taken from their past raids.

Intent on not letting his quarry escape, Ar-Tashk knew he wouldn't be able to mind the slaves and continue his pursuit. He had to take a risky gamble. The olog ordered his own underlings to mind the slaves, but he left the lot with a singular threat; if a single slave went missing, he'd slaughter the whole lot of the assassins. The warning lingered in the air and he charged doggedly on, alone.

Ar-Tashk was able to move faster solo, anyways. It was only a brief matter of time until he came upon the place that the chief orc had settled. There, the chief and his small band of followers were posted at the ready, having set an ambush for anyone who was trailing them. A handful of orcs and a battle-weary uruk dropped from the heights of ruins onto Ar-Tashk's flanks, while taking swings at his tough hide with all the power they could muster. The olog snorted at the attempts to wound him, and he slammed a number of them aside with deft strength.

Ar-Tashk was a juggernaut that quashed any resistance to his goal. Orcs were but ants to him. He cut one down after another with little more effort than a farmer harvesting grain. A cleaved orc made a final effort to try calling for it's chief to come to it's aid before the olog speared the life out of the orc with a iron ballista bolt.

Up the hill, the orc's chief had stayed beyond the range of Ar-Tashk's path of destruction, and when all his company were clearly finished, the orc chief slunk away into a rising fog. Ar-Tashk was tempted to hunt the weavil, but he noted that the orc chief had slipped into Carnan's wood; the caragors would easily dispatch of the coward, and Ar-Tashk had succeeded in tracking down the slaves anyways.

He found one of the slaves holding fast to a small bundle while another planted itself defiantly between the fellow slave and the olog, "Stay back, monster!"

"Shar, darukurz snaga. You bark, but no bite!" Ar-Tashk snorted. It amused the olog to see someone so weak think they had any sway over him, and he deftly struct the defiant slave aside to ensure the other one was was not hiding any weaponry in the bundle.

"Stop! Let go! NO!" The one clutching the bundle screamed as Ar-Tashk seized it from her grasp; a pitiable cry emerged from the bundle, to the olog's surprise as the cloth wraps fell away to reveal a tiny pinkskin child that fit into the palm of his hand like it was nothing. The defiant slave had gotten back to his feet, while the one who had originally been holding the bundle fell to her knees, clinging desperately to the olog's thick wrist. She begged and pleaded with the monstrous olog, "Please don't hurt her! Give her back! I beg of you! Have mercy!"

Ar-Tashk thought briefly then allowed the slave to take back her bundle before she retreated to the embrace of the defiant man. He mused in his broken human language, thinking about the slave he had crushed to death a few days prior, "New tarkling replace dead snaga. Overlord will be pleased."

The pair of slaves with the infant exchanged horrified, but resigned glances. Ar-Tashk ignored them and began leading his new charges all back to where his company had made camp.

They made it back by the time night fell. In the morning, he would take the slaves to the caves as instructed by Vezhir, then finally he would be able to return to the fortress. What the olog didn't expect was to be awoken just before dawn by one of his assassins calling for him, "Ey, boss! This vicious lil tark 'as gone and done it now!"

Ar-Tashk roused himself, pounded down a keg of grog to stem his irritation, and went to see what the fuss was about. As he came upon the scene, he found the defiant male slave pinned to the ground by one of the uruk assassins. The assassin looked up and gestured to the line of chained slaves, "The tark 'as gone savage. 'E killed the sharlob and tarkling in their sleep!"

Ar-Tashk glanced over to where two human bodies lay, one chained in line with the other slaves with the slack of the chain tied around her throat, and the infant turned cold and blue with bruising around its neck. The olog bared his teeth in growing rage, commanding in infuriated black-speech for the offender to be brought before him to answer for his actions.

Still with a fire of defiance in his eyes, the human man spat at Ar-Tashk, as he was dragged before the olog, "It's better to release my wife and child from this life than let them suffer whatever fate you and your damned overlord have in store for them, Mordor scum!"

Ar-Tashk pulled one of his iron bolts from his supplies, and approached the slave, who tried to pull out of the uruk assassin's grip and cursed at the olog, "I hope you feel it! I hope you suffer the same pain, the same anguish, I feel! May every sting of their lost lives return to you ten-fold!

The unfortunate slave did not live long enough to see the sun rise that morning. Ar-Tashk impaled the slave with a swift jab of the bolt, growling his mantra, in response to the insult as he watched the life fade from the slave's eyes, "Az urdan-gurut. Death is not yours to give, snaga-shrakh."

The trio of bodies was disposed of by Ar-Tashk's company, with no hint of compassionate sentiment. The rest of the slaves were delivered to the caves by midday, then finally the olog set his sights on returning to the fortress.

****Summary To Skip Traumatic Sequence****br /

Ar-Tashk is nearly finished with his task, when he has to track down a group of orcs who fled their camp. When he finds them, he kills all of the orcs, except the chief of the group who escapes into Carnan's woods. Afterward, he takes a trio of slaves into custody, a man, woman, and infant. The man makes the difficult, painful decision to kill his companion and their child while they are asleep, to spare them whatever fate Ar-Tashk has in store. Before Ar-Tashk kills the slave for insubordination, the slave curses the olog to suffer as the slave has suffered.

****Translations****br /

Shar, darukurz snaga - Shut up, little /

Tark (tarkling) - Human, Diminutivebr /

Snaga - Slavebr /

Sharlob - Human womanbr /

Az urdan-gurut - I decide deathbr /

Snaga-shrakh - Slave shit