The Digimon King and The King of Gondor
Chapter 11 Malice of Middle Earth
XXX
Mervamon had not run so far at speeds such as the one she was using right now for some time. There had been times in the past, before she even became a member of the Fusion Fighters, where she had been forced for cross large expansions of the Digital World in order to respond to distress calls from victims of the Bagra Army but that had been a very long time ago now. In fact, Mervamon doubted that she had ever run as far as she had done already in a single day.
And yet still she ran on. She was a fit and strong Digimon, more than capable of keeping up the running and the pace without much, or any problems. She knew that she could actually go faster that this if she so desired with ease, her long strides enabling her to cover distance at great speed. The only thing stopping her from doing so now were the fact that she needed to keep the pace that suited their new companions, and she actually had very little idea where they were going anyway.
It had been some hours now since they had begun running. Mervamon had long since lost track of time, but the sun had set, the moon had roused and sank and the sun had risen again already since they had left the lake. Now the sun was high in the sky once again, and still they ran on.
Mervamon had to admit that she was impressed with what she was seeing from her fellow Digimon and the humanoids around her. She knew little of human physiology but she was pretty sure that none of the humans she knew could have done this. They would have given up hours ago, unless of course they were Mikey, who never gave up when somebody was in trouble. But Mikey would have long over exhausted himself and collapsed to the floor, prompting Angie to throw something to soften his fall before he hurt his face.
And yet these adult humanoids seemed to be still going strong. Grunted Gimli and Legolas were not humans and Gimli himself was definitely not fairing as well as most of the others. The Dwarf was laden down by heavy armor while the others weren't and he obviously also had shorter legs and stocky build to contend with but he was admirably so far.
Boromir, on the other hand, was doing even worse than Gimli. Mervamon got the feeling he was usually stronger than this, but the man was clearly suffering from exhaustion. Cutemon might have been able to heal him, but he was still greatly weakened by the experience of being shot three times by arrows so large they were halfway to being javelins. He had lost a good deal of blood from some areas and he had been given little chance to rest.
It was almost a shame that they didn't have a Fusion Loader in handy. If Boromir had been a Digimon he could have hopped into one of those and been carried around while his energy replenished. But, Boromir was not a Digimon and they didn't have a device anyway, so wishful thinking was going to do very little for them at this point.
Nevertheless, despite the obvious looks that were being placed on him, Boromir was continuing, a grim expression on his face as he fought with himself, spurring himself on and it was obvious that he had no plans to stop anytime soon.
Mervamon had a feeling she knew what was driving him is guilt. Boromir claimed that he had failed to protect the two Halflings that they were currently heading off to rescue, and he had been unable to prevent them being taken away when shot by those arrows. Now he seemed to have a near overwhelming desire to make amends and put things right.
Agumon that was next to Mervamon was keeping a good pace with her, even he was one of the seven new recruits that joined the Fusion Fighters.
Regardless of the situation the only time they stopped was when Aragorn, who was leading, paused to examine something on the ground that pointed them in the right direction. Or so Mervamon assumed. She was anything but a tracker was not one of them, so she rarely picked up on anything that Aragorn seemed to have spotted in the dirt. She only had his word that they were still on the trail of those Uruk-hai.
Aragorn himself seemed to be showing only mild signs of fatigue, where as Legolas the Elf was showing absolutely none. The Elf still had his bow in hand and was running alongside Mervamon and Agumon in the middle of the group but his face was blank and there were no signs of panting, sweat or tiredness anywhere on him despite the distance they had run. It was almost eerie.
Nevertheless, Mervamon was beginning to get a little impatient. They had been running for so long but almost no words had been exchanged between any of the members of the group. She still knew so little of what she had gotten herself into. When it came to talking about themselves and why the Uruk-hai had attacked them, the group seemed to become slightly evasive, They were clearly hiding something, and Mervamon knew it and it was not really was none of her business. But still, there was a small part of her that was determined to find out what.
She also knew nothing about the creatures that they were going after, what these Merry and Pippin's relationships were to these people aside from friendship, where they were and, above all, what the deal had been with those two other members of their party who they had let go off on their own. Boromir had spoken about failing the whole group, but that just went in one of Mervamon's pointed ears and out the other with no meaning leaving itself in between. Because she got a feeling that he had meant more than just being unable to stop two of their members being taken.
So they pressed on in comparative silence. Mervamon could occasionally feel the others turning their gazes upon her and Agumon warily, they still didn't completely trust them. She ignored them, as she knew they had every right to be suspicious of her and Agumon. Cutemon though was another matter. The small bunny had long since succumbed to tiredness and was slumped across Mervamon's head, sound asleep and somehow balancing himself despite this. Things had gotten so exciting for him that the little guy was completely pass out.
The landscape had changed around them. It had been many leagues before they got out of the forest, and Mervamon and Agumon could still see it in the distance behind them if they turned their heads, but for the most part everything now seemed to be rolling plains of yellowish grass with rocky outcrops every few dozen yards or so. Mervamon and Agumon both still had no idea where they are. All they know was that this was not their world, and that when somebody finally lend them a map, they would be very happy indeed.
Eventually, they could bear it no longer and Mervamon spoke up without breaking her run. "So then. Aren't you going to tell us a little bit more about the enemy which we're chasing down? They seem to be going pretty fast themselves if we haven't managed to catch up with them yet?"
"They never stop running without rest is odd." Agumon pointed out.
"You're are both right." Aragorn called over his shoulder. "If these were ordinary Orcs then we would have caught them some time ago, for they fear to travel under the light of the sun. But these Orcs are far from ordinary. I have never seen Orcs of their build before today."
"Neither have I." Legolas agreed. "They are taller and stronger than any Orc that I have encountered before."
"At best I would say they resemble the branch of Orcs found in Mordor known as the Uruk-hai."
"That tells me very little I'm afraid." Mervamon sighed. "I have never heard of their kind before either. We don't have them where we come from."
"Same here." Agumon said.
"This mysterious Digital World of yours?" Gimli huffed as he struggled to keep up. "You are lucky indeed not to have filth like those Orcs running about the place in your homes."
"It is not surprising though." Legolas said, tight lipped. "For if they do not have Elves then it is more than likely they have no Orcs either."
"Why?" Mervamon asked with a frown. "Are you the same species or something?"
"No longer." Legolas said grimly. "Most of Middle Earth is aware of this already but if what you claim is true and you are not from around here then I suppose you would not be aware of this. Orcs weren't created by the Valar like the Elves and Men were, nor were they fashioned from scratch by the Dwarves were. But in Ancient Times, long before I was born, Orcs were created from Elves by the first Dark Lord Morgoth."
Mervamon's eyes widened in alarm. "Created from Elves?" She asked. "You mean to say that you and these Orcs share a common ancestry because someone, this Dark Lord, warped some Elves into being those... creatures."
"What a horrible thing to do!" Agumon said in disbelief.
"That is exactly what I am saying." Legolas confirmed grimly. "There are comparatively few Elves that still remember those times left in this world, but it was supposedly a terrible time indeed. several of our brethren were enslaved and tortured, mutilated, placed under Dark Magic and all kinds of hideous things in order to become the Orc race. I do not even wish to imagine the horrors inflicted on the Elves that were to become the first Orcs. I do not want to bear thinking about it."
"Agreed." Mervamon added through gritted teeth. "That is evil. Pure evil right there. makes whispered seem like a playful child in comparison. But, if these Orcs were once like your kind, Legolas, then it is not possible that some goodness of Elves remain in them."
"I know how that feels." Agumon growled. "To see innocent people being tortured and to enslaving others. I hate to see the suffering of the people."
"I know how you feel, but no." Legolas said, stiffly. "My people tried to reason with them once and they were ruthlessly cut down. No Orc has goodness in their hearts anymore. They are a race born purely out of evil and every ounce of goodness was stripped from their ancestors long ago, leaving nothing to pass down to the Orcs that we fight today. And these Uruk-hai are perhaps more evil than they, for they were created for this purpose rather than warped into it."
Mervamon and Agumon both said nothing after that for a while. But when Mervamon spoke again, it was merely to say. "I'm sorry."
"And I thank you for it." Legolas sent her and Agumon a slight smile as he run on. "The Elves have long come to terms with the origins of the Orc race. Now, we do our best to defend Middle Earth from their vicious ways. But..." He added, with a small sigh. "The power of my people is fading. I do not know how much longer we continue to protect this land."
Mervamon had no response to this. At least she could not think of one that sounded appropriate so she just buttoned her lip and ran on with Agumon, as they following Aragorn over around a rock outcropping and further out until they were running across the top of one enormous cliff that seemed to look down over yet more grassland far below.
Eventually, Mervamon continued the conversation with the words. "This Morgoth that you mentioned, you claim that he was the first Dark Lord? I assumed that he was defeated."
"Indeed." Aragorn called over his shoulder. "He was cast down and the Valar chained him and cast him into the void. He would not be able to return from such a fate, I can assure you of that."
"That's good." Mervamon nodded. But it must also mean that another Dark Lord has appeared since then, doesn't it? Possibly more than one, am I right?"
"It is just the one." Aragorn replied. "Do you two know of Sauron."
"I cannot say that I do." Mervamon replied.
"Same here." Agumon said.
"The Last Dark Lord that I was aware of was Bagramon." Mervamon said. "But he was defeated and slain by the combined efforts of everyone in the Digital World. I have not heard of this Sauron and more than I have heard of anything else from this place."
"We only have your word on that." Gimli pointed out as he huffed along at the rear with Boromir.
"Nevertheless it is true." Mervamon stated a little stiffly. "What happened to Sauron then?"
"A more appropriate question of that would be what is happening to him now." Boromir grunted as he gasped to regain as much of of his breath as he could. "He is in the process of trying to spread his dark rule over this land once again. He is still very much alive. If what you say is true and you come from a completely different world then you chose a very bad place to land yourselves in, I'm afraid."
"Ah." Mervamon muttered. "Wonderful. Another tyrannical being intent of subjugating everyone underneath his boot. And I thought Zamielmon was bad enough."
"These names you speak of mean little to us, I'm afraid Mervamon." Legolas glanced across at her.
"Nor should they." Mervamon replied. "But you should nevertheless be thankful that the Seven Dark Generals and the Bagra Army never made it here. I don't know how serious this situation is with your Sauron but suffice to say things would have been incredibly bad indeed if that had happened."
"Yes. It would be worst if you had two Dark Lords fighting amongst themselves over your world or even worst they would have formed an alliance." Agumon said.
"Then I suppose we should be grateful that it was you three ended up here instead." Gimli wheezed.
"I already am." Boromir pointed out, reaching up a hand and tracing his fingers through the holes in his tunic that had been left by the three arrows that Lurtz had hit him with.
"And what of those two... Halflings that we are running to rescue?" Mervamon asked. "Who are they?"
"Merely a pair of innocent traveling companions of ours." Aragorn replied quickly, having no desire to get Mervamon any further involved with the business of the One Ring than she already was. He wished Gandalf were here. The Old Wizard seemed to have known whether these three new companions were trustworthy and not evil, he still didn't know if they could be trusted and who not to. He would have known whether these three new companions of theirs could be trusted with the secret or not. But Aragorn, while sure by this point that their new companions were trustworthy and not evil, he still didn't know if they could be trusted. Not yet. He simply didn't know enough about them yet to make that call.
Cutemon stirred from the top of Mervamon's head. Before he drifted off he had taken one of Mervamon's ribbons and tied it around his waist to anchor himself to the projections of the helmet and stop himself from falling off. Now, he yawned and opened his eyes, looking barely out around them.
"Where are we?" He murmured, rubbing one eye with his small fingers.
"We don't know where we are Cutemon." Agumon answered.
"Yes, I would like to know that myself." Mervamon agreed.
"I know these lands." Aragorn responded. "And I would say that we should soon be approaching the East Emnet of Rohan if we continue in this direction."
Mervamon chuckled. "Those names mean as little to me as the names of the people I mentioned previously did to you, I'm afraid."
"I would say the same." Agumon said. "We still know very little about your world."
A brief smile flashed across Aragorn's face as he increased his speed. "We need to find you two a map then."
"Yes, I do need to brush up on my geography, don't I?" Mervamon snorted.
"We could study the map and learn all the places of this world Mervamon." Agumon chuckled.
Cutemon giggled quietly, looking up at the sky to check how high the sun was in order to find out what time of day it was. He blinked and screwed up his eyes slightly, trying to see something high above, but then he rapped his small fist on Mervamon's helmet and said. "Hey! Hey, look! Up there!"
"What?" Mervamon asked.
"What is it Cutemon?" Agumon asked too.
The three of them look upwards despite the fact they were running along the edge of a cliff. What they saw made them skidded to a halt and Gimli almost crash into them from behind. The Dwarf loudly objected but Mervamon and Agumon both barely heard, screwing up their eyes to focus on what Cutemon had seen. High above, a dark shape. Whatever it was, it was clearly winged and if Mervamon squinted she was sure that those wings were feathered, though it was so high up that it was difficult to tell.
"Beelzemon?" Mervamon murmured to herself. "Is that Beelzemon?"
"Is that really him?" Agumon asked.
"That's what I wondered." Cutemon nodded. "It... kinda looks like him if you tilt your head just right."
The rest of the group had also pulled to a brief stop and were looking up at the shape. "I do not know who you think that is." Legolas voiced. "But I can tell you that is one of the Great Eagles that roam the skies of our world. They're huge birds that usually live in the mountains, but I have never heard of them coming this far south."
Mervamon felt her heart sink. "You can tell what it is that easily?"
"Elf eyes are extremely keen." Aragorn related. "Far more keen than those of Men and Dwarfs, though I do not know about your kind Mervamon. Nevertheless, I agreed with Legolas. It is most unusual for the Eagles to venture this far south, especially on their own. The only times they leave their mountain roots and travel such great distances is when they have a battle to fight."
Mervamon sighed. She felt a pang in her heart as she realized just how much she missed Beelzemon. At least he was not dead this time around, but still she felt an unshakable longing to find him again, to make sure he was okay. She had no idea where he was at this world and in her opinion that was almost as bad as him being dead. For all she knew, he was dead.
What if she never found him again?
Agumon knows how Mervamon feels, because he feels the same with Biyomon. He and Biyomon had been together for a long time since they first join the Fusion Fighters. Agumon began to have feelings for Biyomon. He had yet to ask her to be his mate.
Legolas seemed to notice Mervamon and Agumon both had sadness and might have been about to say something, but before he could Gimli spoke up. "Fascinated as the home rage of a species of giant bird might be, shouldn't we keep going? Those Orcs will be getting further away and taking the Hobbits with them if they're not dead already."
"Yes, Gimli." Aragorn nodded. "Come. We must make haste!" And he turned and continued in the headlong run, with the others all following on a brief moment later. Mervamon and Agumon, though, were only half paying attention to where they were going, their minds filled with images of their beloved Beelzemon and Biyomon and wondering if they were okay. It felt like someone was trying to squeeze their hearts until burst inside them.
Cutemon definitely caught Mervamon and Agumon's moods and quietly raised from their thoughts with the words. " Don't worry, Mervamon, Agumon, we'll find them again. We'll find all of them again, all right?"
Mervamon breath out from her nose and forced a smile as she nodded and Agumon too smiled. And she said. "Yeah. Yeah, you bet we will."
And they set their focus back to the running. So the group continued to run their way west on the trail their elusive enemy.
XXX
The enemy was still moving themselves. The Uruk-hai were built for running, they had sturdy legs and thickest bodies that were practically filled with stamina, making them far more reliable than a regular Orc for getting to places quickly. They did not fear sunlight and they had massive reserves of energy with their bodies, allowing them to run faster, harder and further than other Orc species, as well as fight harder on the battlefield.
They were the physical embodiment of everything twisted in the Orc race, but with the strength of Elves that the race had once been. There was a reason that Saruman stated they were Orcs perfected.
Granted, there were considerably less of the Uruk-hai than there had been when they had set out, but that didn't matter. They were on a mission and they were going to carry it out all the way to the end. Even the loss of their leader had done little to slow them down. When it became clear to them that Lurtz was not going to catch up as they originally presumed, one Uruk-hai quickly taken charge of everything and he appointed two Uruks as Captains as well.
With a regular group of Orcs, there would have been a struggle and probably a full blown fight until one of them stood above the competition and beat his opponents down before taking over. But the Uruks were not a mindless rabble. They were far more organized and disciplined as much as any Orc could be. After their new leader had been established along with two Captains, they had only paused to help secure their cargo, the two Hobbit prisoners.
Merry and Pippin had been secured to the backs of two large Uruk-hai, their arms slung around the necks of the Uruks and bound there so they had no choice but to hold on. It was not good to either of them, and despite their best efforts there was nothing they could do to escape. Even if they could find a way to get down from the backs of the Uruks carrying them, they would surely never be able to outrun them. Not in a million years. And not even after that.
They'd said very little on their journey. The both of them had been shocked to the core, the image of Boromir filled with three arrows implanted firmly on their minds. They were absolutely sure that man who had fought to protect them was now dead. How could he have survived something like that? He had died to protect them and they had just been caught anyway.
It had left the two of them more stunned than they were about actually being captives.
Now, Pippin looked over to the neighboring Uruk which Merry was being carried by and balked at what he saw. So consumed had he been in his own shock and misery that he had failed to notice the condition his friend was in. Merry had not fared the journey so well. The helmet of the Uruk he was carried by that a ridge around its base and Merry had evidently hit his head on it during the run and had been knocked out by it. There was a large gash on the side of his head running down past his eyebrow and given he was still unconscious or at least dazed, said cut was still rubbing against the ridge that had caused it in the first place, meaning it was still raw and bleeding.
Pippin's throat constricted and he fought the urge to cry out, he did not want to get on the bad side of these Uruks that were carrying them. Instead, he hissed. "Merry!"
There was no response.
"Merry!" He said in a small voice again, but again Merry did not stir. He just hung there with his head pressed against the back of the Uruk's neck and his mouth hanging open slightly. In a heartbeat moment Pippin wondered if he was actually dead, but after a moment he did see Merry's jaw twitch. He was still alive.
He was about to try and call out again when the new leader of the Uruk-hai at the front of the column stopped and raised a fist sharply, signaling all the other Uruks to stop as well. Pippin's attention was drawn to the front of the line. The new leader was just as ugly as the last, which deep mottled reddish-brown skin that looked like he was completely covered in bruises coupled with some horrendous disease. He also had long grey hair and large fangs projecting from his mouth. All the Uruk-hai looked like that though, the only reason Pippin could tell him apart from the others was that he has grey hair and was leading the party.
Pippin knew nothing about the Uruks really, but he thought he had managed to pick up the name of this leader and two other Uruks were Captains. The leader's name is Ugluk and the two Captains names are Mauhur and Lugdush. Mauhur was a purple skin and have black hair next to Ugluk and armed with a sword. Lugdush was red skin and have black hair behind Ugluk and is armed with a sword and crossbow. The leader Ugluk is not as vicious or powerful as Lurtz he was clearly still a tough guy.
The reason he had called a halt to the party became apparent a moment later. They were in a long, shallow ravine, and at the front, from behind several large boulders where they had been sheltering from the sun, came figures. Smaller and squatter than the Uruk-hai, but with similar wrinkled, dark and repulsive skin. Regular Orcs and about half a dozen of them.
None of them looked happy about having to come out in the sun, but the lead Orc, a slouching figure with a low-hanging jaw and a hooked nose, glared up at Ugluk. This one was called Grishnakh and it was quite clear that he fancied himself as quite important.
"Your late." He declared, wrinkling his nose. "Our Master grows impatient. He wants the Shire-rats now!"
Pippin had no idea who this Master they were referring to was but he could make a couple of educated guesses, neither of which applied to him. Evidently the lead Uruk knew full well, and he also didn't seem to think much of Grishnakh. He looked down at the regular Orc as if he were a piece of slime. "I don't take orders from Orc maggots!" He growled, taking a threatening step forward. He had a bullwhip in one hand that he had threatened to use on the Hobbits earlier if they tried to struggle while they were restrained.
Grishnakh stepped backwards with a snarl on his face and appeared to try and size Ugluk up, balking a little bit when he realized how much taller the Uruk-hai was. The other Orcs looked a little nervous themselves.
Evidently they had heard how powerful their larger counterparts could be and felt no desire to try and get on the wrong side of them.
"Saruman will have his prize!" Ugluk declared, jabbing a finger in Grishnakh's direction threateningly, before turning it around to jab his thumb into his own chest. "We will deliver them."
Ugluk and Grishnakh glared at one another for several moments before the latter back down slightly, knowing that he was out matched by the more powerful Orc. The Uruk's snarl twisted into a grin of triumphant, demonstrating that he had known this would be the outcome all along, before he turned back and stepped in among the rest of his troops, both in order to inspect them and check on the two prisoners.
When he was out of earshot, Grishnakh let off a hissing, rasping noise from his mouth that was clearly meant to be a derogatory gesture amongst the Orcs in order to mock Ugluk now that his back was turned. One of the Captains name Lugdush near the front of the line turned and snarled at the offending Orc. Apparently none of them held much more than contempt for their smaller counterparts.
The Orcs stepped backwards, subdued and not a little sullen. Ugluk ignored them completely and began to push his way through the towards where the Hobbits were hanging.
Despite the approaching ugly brute, Pippin's attention was diverted back to Merry. Merry appeared to be stirring slightly and ragged breaths were coming out of his mouth as his head hang back like some kind of rag doll. "Merry!" Pippin called across to him, no longer caring if he got into trouble with the other Uruk-hai. "Merry. Wake up!"
Merry still made no indication that he was hearing what is going on so Pippin looked wildly around for someone who could help based mostly on instinct alone. He very much doubted that any of their captors would be in the least bit concerned by what is going on. However, one of the Uruk-hai standing right next to him had lifted a water flask to his fangs, and was taking a swig of contents, so Pippin decided to try anyway.
"My friend is sick." He exclaimed, catching the Uruk's attention. The creature turned to glare at him and bared its teeth with a ferocious snarl right in front of Pippin's face, and Pippin was very dis-concern that he couldn't even make out the Uruk's eyes from under the holes of the helmet. Despite the display of aggression though, Pippin was imploring look. "Please!"
He had absolutely no idea if this was going to do any good or not. He didn't think these Uruks had a speck of goodness within their bodies but nevertheless he was trying to appeal to any goodness that might exist, however small. All he seemed to be met with though, was the vicious looking canines in his face.
"Sick is he?" Ugluk smirked as he stepped closer. Pippin's attention immediately diverted to him with an attempt at an imploring expression, and the situation was grabbing the interest of all the other Uruks gathered in the double-column. Ugluk pointed a hand at Merry and yelled. "Give 'im some medicine boys!"
For a split second, Pippin was filled with hope, but changed instantly when there was a cacophony from the other Uruks, as if they seemed to find this funny. The Uruk who had been snarling at him turned around and approached Merry, seizing him by the chin and opening his mouth wide, lifting up the large bottle with the liquid and tipping the contents into Merry's mouth.
The only problem was that the liquid appeared to be something viscous and brownish that Pippin couldn't identify and the Uruk made absolutely no attempt to be gentle. Not only did copious amounts of stuff pour down the side of Merry's face but what did go into his mouth immediately went down the wrong hole. Pippin watch in horror as Merry abruptly began choking and retching and spluttering, but the Uruk ignored him and kept pouring.
"Stop it!" Pippin shouted.
Merry thrashed his head and looked like he was about to hurl when the Uruk relented after about five seconds. All the other Uruks were jeering and shouting and bellowing with laughter at the simple cruelty of this small action. "Can't take his drought!" Ugluk roared with laughter, and the rest of the Uruks joined him, including the one who had been doing the pouring, until the ravine was filled with echoes of mocking laughs. This was the true nature of the Orc. They loved to cause suffering in others, even if it was mild. They had been given orders not to harm the Hobbits physically, but they still found ways to get their kicks.
"Leave him alone!" Pippin shouted, jerking valiantly in his bounds and getting nowhere, while Merry just hung there and gasping for breath, the brown liquid still dripping from the wound on his face.
"Why?" Ugluk asked abruptly, silencing all activity in the ravine as he stepped closer, jabbing a finger in Pippin's face. "You want some? Huh?"
Pippin didn't give a physical answer but the sudden fear that appeared in his eyes was all the answer that Ugluk needed. "Then keep your mouth shut." He sneered at the Hobbit, fixing his fierce eyes with Pippin's terrified ones for a second, before turning back to head to the front with the other two Captains once more, the Uruks around him snarling to themselves and falling back into their ranks.
Pippin's focus immediately turned back to his friend. "Merry?" He asked full of concern.
Merry looked barely across st him, conscious and awake now and managed to muster barely. "Hello, Pip." Across to his fellow captive. There was still large amounts of brown Uruk-drought or whatever that stuff was dripping down his chin and he looked dazed as he struggled to get his breath back.
"You hurt?" Pippin asked, glancing at the wound on Merry's face.
"I'm fine." Merry breath, the traces of a bravado-filled smile appearing on his face. "It was just an act."
"An act?" Pippin blinked, staring at Merry incredulously.
"See." Merry seemed to be attempting to grin, but it was coming out rather lopsided. "Fooled you two."
Pippin just stared at him for several moments, seemingly unsure whether to smile or just looked confused and apparently attempting to do both at the same time. Of course, what Merry was saying was not true at all. It had not been an act, he had been very much out of it when he had been stirred by the liquid pouring down his throat. But the last thing Merry wanted to do was make Pippin worry about him. Both of them had been troublemakers in the Shire, but Merry had always felt somewhat responsible for the slightly younger Pippin regardless and now was certainly no exception.
"Don't worry about me, Pippin." He murmured, resting his forehead against the helmet of the Uruk-hai he was hanging from once again, trying to shake off the weariness that was scouring through his small body.
Pippin turned his attention back to the front, where one of the Captains named Mauhur had started to sniff the air, a look of wariness on his face.
Ugluk noticed it too and so did the other Captain name Lugdush. Ugluk quickly stepped over and said. "What is it? What do you smell?"
Mauhur hummed to face his leader and growled. "Man flesh." This caused Ugluk to glance sharply over his shoulder. But before he could say anything else, the other Captain Lugdush smell something else and said. "And I smell... something else. A different smell! Something I don't recognized!"
"It could be that women and that small dragon!" Cried another of the Uruks nearby and there was slight tremor of fear in his voice. Not many of the Uruks that had escaped the battle had seen Mervamon and Agumon, as most of those that has seen them had been brought down by sword, burn by fire ball, cut by claws, or wack by the snake arm moments later, but this Uruk had been one of the lucky ones. "They fought like a bunch of demons. Like wild things! The woman's sword was as big as we are and the small dragon was quick to strike us with claws!"
"We slew the powerful Man!" Ugluk snorted. "We can slay those demons I've been hearing about. But all their group were fierce fighters and we have our orders. We have to get these prisoners to Saruman as soon as possible! We can't let them catch up with us! Let's move!" And he turned and charged further down the ravine, the Orcs under the command of Grishnakh falling into step beside the front running Uruks as they all began to thunder forwards once again.
Pippin was confused. "Man flesh" had been the word that he understand. That might mean that Aragorn was not far away and could be, at this very moment, closing in on the party of Uruks. But the talk of those called woman and small dragon were completely new to him. There hadn't been any woman or small dragon in their Fellowship, they had all been guys and no creatures. So what were the Uruks are talking about?
"Your forces were taken down by a female and a small dragon?" He heard Grishnakh taunt from the front. "Are you sure you are worthy of the title of the Fighting Uruk-hai that you brag so much about?"
"You don't know what you're talking about, Orc scum!" Roared the Uruk who had mentioned the woman and small dragon. "This wasn't some puny Man female and small dragon. They were monsters! The woman's entire arm was one big snake and the small yellow dragon is one tough fighter!"
Pippin's eyes nearly boggled out of his skull at the prospect of the idea. Had the Uruk been delusional? That seemed like the only reasonable explanation to him.
Regardless, he needed to think quickly. If Aragorn was tracking them then he wouldn't have any proof the Hobbits were still alive if they were being carried, so he needed to do something that would urge them to, let them know that they were alright for the time being.
Hurriedly he attempted to reach his mouth down and grasped the leaf-shaped brooch of his Elven cloak between his teeth and yanked upwards. It took a bit of effort, but he managed to eventually tug it away from where it was supposed to be and, hoping none of the Uruks noticed, spat it out of his mouth to land on the grass with a slight clink.
But Pippin had already lost sight of it before it hit the ground and he could only hope that as the Uruks thundered on and many of them run on the little Elven brooch, that anybody who was following their group would find his little clue. It seemed that for the moment, the fate of both Merry and Pippin was out of their own hands.
XXX
Such was the speed that the Uruk-hai were traveling at, they had been able to gain a good lead on the group during the brief period where they had stopped to heal Boromir and discuss their next move. They were more than half a day ahead by this point already, and it seemed to most of the party that they were leaving no sign of their passing.
And yet Aragorn seemed to be steering them in the right direction, though they only had his word for it. Every now and then he would call a halt and press his ear against the ground as if listening for something beneath, and every time he did this he would spring up a moment later and continued running, occasionally adjusting his course slightly but always with certainly.
"They have pick up their speed." He said with a sigh after the most recent of this. He sat up and licked the tip of his finger and lifted it up slightly, nothing that the wind was blowing from behind them in the direction that they were currently going. "We're upwind of them. They must have caught our scent and they know we are pursuing them. Quick! We must hurry!"
And he vaulted over the rock and continued his headlong dash across the turf. The others were all not far behind him straight away.
"He can really hear their footsteps when he does that?" Cutemon asked. "I didn't think human ears were that good."
"Aragorn is a Ranger." Legolas related to them. "He has lived all his life in the wild, he is an expert on all forms of tracking and path-finding. Trust him. He will lead us right."
"Maybe I can help too." Cutemon cried, standing up on top of Mervamon's head and placing his hands over the earmuff-like projections he wore on either side of his head. The two huge ear-like projections on top of his head waggled in the air of their own accord for a couple of seconds as he shut his eyes in concentration. Then he pointed forward and said. "Yes, I hear something too! A rumbling noise coming from that direction! Could that be them?"
"It could very well be." Aragorn shouted back.
Cutemon's smile slipped. "They sounded awfully far away."
"All the more reason for us to pick up our pace." Aragorn related, doing just that. Mervamon had long since gone past being impressed by the Man's stamina and she was almost going into awed. And Legolas was much the same.
Cutemon sighed. "I hope this is all worth it." He muttered.
"You're not even doing the running." Gimli griped. "When it is my turn to hitch a lift? Hoo, on second thought, maybe I should stop talking." He set his face into a stone-like mask and run on, ignoring his obvious fatigue to the best of his ability and going his best to keep up with the swiffer runners at the front.
Agumon was running next to Mervamon and turn to Gimli and said. "You could consider this a race to who will catch the Uruks first!" He smiled to Gimli.
That gave him a boost as he actually succeeded in running past Mervamon and Agumon, but that was mostly because the two Digimon had slowed down and were looking over their shoulders at the Man who was bringing up the rear of the party.
Boromir was falling behind.
And he was beginning to do so by some time. Each time that Aragorn had called a halt, Boromir had been some distance behind and had try to do his best to catch up before they set off again. The Man, who might normally be in the prime of health and could possibly have run like this just as well as Aragorn, was looking extremely pale by this point and his breath was just mere wheezing gasps.
"Boromir, are you alright?" It was question and Mervamon knew it. She could see full well that Boromir was most certainly not alright. But the question did attract the attention of the rest of the group as the two Digimon drew to a halt and allowed the Gondorian to stagger to a halt next to Mervamon and Agumon and Boromir throw out a hand to grab Mervamon by the arm and steady himself.
"You don't look so well?" Agumon was worried for Boromir.
"Yes." Boromir nodded firmly, his chest heaving. "I am fine. I can continue. Let's keep... ungh..." He staggered slightly as he tried to push himself off Mervamon and keep running, collapsing sideways until he was leaning against her with his shoulder with most of his body weight. The tall Digimon hurriedly attempted to steady him, but moments after she did so, Boromir pushed her arms away and stood apart. He was wavering on the spot and looked barely able to stand, but his expression was still defiant even though it was clear he was exhausted.
"Do not concern yourself with me." Boromir gasped. "I am fine. We must... we must... get after them. We can't let them... Merry and Pippin..." He wavered again and placed fingers to his temples, as if trying to pinch the dizziness out of his brain.
Mervamon bit her lip and Agumon was worried for that Man. Boromir should really have longer to rest before they began this headlong dash across the world. His wounds might have healed but his body itself was still recovering. Humans, not even the toughest of them, were as durable and quick-healing as a Digimon, which meant that he was greatly over exerting himself. The fact that he had gotten this far was a commendable feat in and of itself.
The two Digimon glanced across at Aragorn and could quite clearly see he was in an agony of concern. They were losing ground on the Uruks with every second they stood there and therefore losing their chances of getting to Merry and Pippin in time but surely they could not simply abandon one of their own out here either. Yet it was quite painful to see that Boromir needed rest and he wasn't going to get that if they didn't stop.
None of the others knew these lands as Aragorn did, since he was the one doing the tracking, this was quite the problem.
"Come on!" Boromir stepped forward, forcing himself into a jog and trying to pick up speed. "We cannot just stand here. We've got to go... The Hobbits need us."
He over took the others and they watched him run on several more steps before he staggered and threw out a hand to catch himself on a nearby boulder, leaning heavily against it and looking for all the world like he was trying to reach himself to it.
Aragorn stepped closer and placed a hand on Boromir's shoulder. "Boromir, you must rest. It will not be long before you collapse at this rate and over exert yourself too much and you could even kill yourself."
"He's right, Boromir. If you keep going you could die." Agumon said.
"Are you both listening to yourselves?" Boromir gasped. "How can I rest when the Hobbits are in peril. I have to find them and... redeem my failure."
"You will be no use to the Hobbits if you are unable to lift your shield if we do catch up with the Uruks." Legolas pointed out.
"I owe it to them." Boromir growled stubbornly. "I have to... have to..."
"Boromir." Mervamon said, stepping closer to the sweating, exhausted Gondorian. "You're a Man of honor, right."
"Of course." Boromir blinked in bemusement. "Honor is one of the most valuable commodities for a Man to possess."
"Then perhaps it would be better if you were unconscious for this." Mervamon said regrettably. And, without warning, the Medullia lunged outwards and struck Boromir across the forehead with its blunt nose. The already fatigued Man slumped against the rock and Mervamon stepped forward to catch him in her one real arm.
As she struck, the hands of the others had immediately drawn to their weapons, but they all stared frozen, as they watched Mervamon lift the heavy looking Man and sling him onto her shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes. A rather light looking sack of potatoes from the ease which she did it.
"Sorry about that." She muttered. "But we're not leaving him here so I'll carry him if I have too. But I believe he would find the experience rather embarrassing if he were awake so perhaps it will be better for him to be out of it for a while. His body can recover on its own this way."
"I will apologize for Mervamon's actions." Agumon said.
The three others relaxed their stance again after this. "You're strong." Gimli noted, nodded at the limp Man slung across her shoulder.
"You think he's heavy?" Mervamon chuckled. "I had to carry Ballistamon once, he was much heavier than this guy. Now, shall we go?"
"You are very strong indeed, Mervamon." Aragorn noted. "And yes. We're losing time."
"She is one of the strongest members of the Fusion Fighters."Agumon smiled.
Aragorn quickly turned to hurry away once again and, Mervamon lifting the unconscious Boromir into a better position on her shoulder, Mervamon set out after him, Agumon followed behind her. Legolas and Gimli exchanged a brief look of mild bemusement before they too continued running.
"I don't suppose you have room on your other shoulder for another passenger?" Gimli huffed as he spurred himself on. "I won't even be too proud to have to be knocked out at this rate."
"Sorry." Mervamon chuckled. "But I think I'll save my shoulder space for one who really needs it."
"She is very touchy for one person she cared about." Agumon explained and hurried on.
Just who is this person? Legolas thought to himself as he run past the two Digimon and caught up with Aragorn in the front. And so the five of them continued their run, one of them now carrying two passengers. But none of them if and when they finally caught up with their quarry.
XXX
And pull back from them, high into the sky and proceed northwest for many, many leagues, past the rolling yellow plains, a few makeshift villagers and couple of rivers, and you would reach an enormous black tower standing at the foot of a mountain range and surrounded by a large circular wall to keep unwanted guests out. The tower of Orthanc, its four enormous spires stretching upwards as if to skewer the clouds.
This was the final destination of the Uruk-hai that were carrying Merry and Pippin, for it was here that Saruman the White, the former leader of the White Council. The Wizard, now corrupted by evil, had spent a large portion of the day with his claw-like hand hovering over the Palantir and scanning Middle Earth for any signs of what the mysterious disturbance that he has sensed the other day might have been.
He had been able to pick up a couple of things but there was a limit even to what a Palantir could do for you. It certainly helped even more if you knew where it was. Saruman had no clue about either, so he had been left effectively scurrying everywhere, trying to find some clues.
What he had been able to find had confused him. He seen some sort of red lizard creature wandering across a grassy plain, some kind of strange wolf and cat fleeing from a pair of Rohan's horsemen, and what looked like a white rabbit with a crest of a moon on her forehead and along a young girl with a large pike flower on her head both wondering lost through a forest, among other things. But they had all been brief flashes and he had been able to make little details or sense out of anything.
Eventually he had resolved to wait. This mystery would make itself clear to him eventually, he knew. So he had turned his attention to the Uruks who had attacked the Fellowship. He had seen brief glimpses of one of the Fellowship, the Gondorian, with three arrows planted in his chest and he had seen enough to be satisfied that the Uruk-hai were now bringing their prisoners back to him.
It would not be long now, he was sure of it. Not long until he had possession of the Halflings. And then, the One Ring.
He felt a shudder of anticipation at the thought of power it could bring him. Yes, Saruman might now be Sauron's puppet, but that didn't mean he didn't have hopes, ambitions and ideals for the future. And the idea of possessing the Ring, maybe even casting Sauron down with it... well, that certainly seemed very appealing to his now twisted mind.
But for now he had other things to focus on, such as accelerating his war front. Things were going well it seemed, and he took a walk through the extensive pit systems that that the Orcs he now had in his service had dug, makeshift wooden bridges and walkways spanning its lengths and boards and allowing Saruman easy access to all areas to check on the progress of his numerous minions, who were growing in numbers all the time.
More Uruk-hai were being pulled out of the earth at a constant rate, roughly one of them being pulled from the mud roughly every thirty seconds. The Orcs in charge of this operation were quick and efficient and by this point they had plenty of practice, wielding the dark magic that Saruman had instructed them in to give rise to the new race of monsters and set them ready for war almost immediately. The air was filled with the snarls and growls of awakening Uruk-hai, just as it was equally filled with smoke, sparks and rasping cries of the Orcs in their own grunting language.
There was a hiss of rapidly cooling metal as another Orc plunged a newly created sword into a pale of water, while others were poured to heat them up. The noises of hammers ringing on the forges was a near constant beat as helmets and breastplates were battered into shape and other vicious looking instruments of death were churned at a rate almost as fast as the Uruk-hai themselves.
There was a crumbling sound from above and Saruman's gaze was drawn to see perhaps the last of Isengard's original trees plummet down into the caverns and crashed into the bottom with a shower of splinters. A swarm of Orcs promptly crowed over it to chop it to bits with their axes. Others were already carrying small logs towards the holes in the walls that lead into the furnaces and tossing them in, keeping the orange glow emanating from within strong and the fires raging.
All in, it might seemed like some private view of hell to most people, swarming with wretched creatures of evil and filled with fires and roars and screams, many of the Orcs were not skilled at laboring and there were more than one cases where one would be on the receiving end of a serious burn. And yet Saruman just stood there with a look of satisfaction on his face, gripping his long, black staff and his lips curling into a smirk at the thought of what these Orcs would do to the people of Rohan when his war began.
Things seemed to be coming together for him. Orcs were not the only recruits he had gathered and the Uruks were not the only fighters of his army. He had plenty of war-worthy Orcs themselves, but he also had a very large number of Wargs. The large bear-like wolves snapped and growled at one another constantly and were kept under the watch of one of Saruman's main Orc Captains, who had introduced himself as Sharku, an expert Warg rider and commander. Saruman could see him now, standing over the Warg Pen and leering in as the wolves clawed and bite at one another.
He claimed that keeping them as worked up as possible between conflicts made them all more deadly and eager to fight on the field itself and Saruman had nothing yet to indicate that this wasn't true.
There was a cawing noise and several enormous crows swooped in overhead, observing events with greedy black eyes as if scanning for corpses. These were Crebain, who served as scouts, messengers and spies for Saruman, and who gladly joined at the prospect of a war as they knew that when each battle ended there would be a banquet of fresh carrion for each of them wherever Isengard's armies spread.
And speaking of allies, another group of associates would soon be arriving, and Saruman would be there to greet them. But, as he watched more and more Uruks being pulled from the pits, he announced. "I want them armed and outfitted with their armor within two weeks." To the Orc Captain that he knew named Gurz was standing next to him. "It has become more necessary than ever that we make haste with our invasion. They must be ready to march on Rohan within a fortnight.
"But, my Lord Saruman." Gurz protested in a thick voice. "They are to many of them. Our armors cannot keep up with the pace which they are being created. And we're running low on resources. We're down to the last tree and after that we're out of fuel for the furnaces."
"Fool." Saruman turned to him with a harsh glare. "Look out to the east." He pointed with his staff. From their position, they had a a vantage point out over the top of the wall that surrounded the fortress. "What do you see?"
"More mountains and... and that forest." Gurz replied.
"Exactly." Saruman nodded. "The forest of Fangorn. It sits there with its trees right next to our walls and you claim that we are running low on fuel? Take your axes and give the fires more fuel with those trees."
"Yes, my Lord." Gurz responded, a leer growling on his face. "It shall be as you wish."
"And make haste on the construction of the dam." Saruman added. "I want that stream to be blocked fully by tomorrow. We must work around the clock tl build up our army. Rohan is already on its last legs, but we must ensure that those legs fold before they can regroup. This world will burn as the trees have burned. And then, you can feast on the flesh of Men and Beast alike."
Gurz let loose something that almost sounded like a crackle of anticipation as he hurried off to do as the White Wizard instructed. Saruman strode out across the walkway and back towards his tower, satisfied with the process they were making. With Sauron building up his armies to the south and preparing to march on Gondor, Saruman knew he had to be ready now. They would trap the Southern Kingdoms in a vice, and draw their Men to opposite fronts. And divided, they would fall.
And Saruman wanted to make sure he was ready even before Sauron was. That would most certainly please the Great Eye and the Men of the West would soon fall.
But not all of the Men of the West would suffer under the boot of Saruman. Some Men he could use to his advantage. And that was what he was going to try now. As he approached the tower, he could quite easily make out the small huddle of Men at the base of the stairs.
Compared to the Men from Rohan and Gondor, these Men were very different, much more ragged, unkempt and generally filthy looking. They all had huge shabby beards and scruffy long hairs that made it look like they were wearing some kind of mane around their faces. They were armed with crewed wooden like sharpened stacks that seemed to appear as spears and other weapons like swords, axes and clubs. A few of them had knives too, proper metal knives, which were rare among their kind and some of them are armed with bows.
The Men were Dunlings. As their name suggest, they came from Dunland, the same place as the Crebain and a large expanse of hills and ragged countryside, mostly rocky and sparse of life, except for a few small forests. There Men were not civilized, they were wild. They lived in caves at best, but the fact that they had been surviving there for many years, since before even the Men of Numenor came to these areas, made them a tough and hardy race. They were all strong and powerful, they had to be tough to hunt food they needed to stay alive.
And Saruman was planning to make a potential ally out of them in the fight against Rohan. The rivalry between the Dunlings and the Rohan warriors extended as far back as could be remembered. In fact, the year that Saruman had first settled in Isengard, had been the year the massive Dunlings invasion of Rohan had finally been repelled by the Rohirrim. The Dunlings had even been able to seize Edoras and the throne and kill the mighty King Helm Hammerhand, before finally being defeated.
"Ah, Wulf." Saruman nodded to the man at the front, a tall individual with a slouch and matted black hair that merged with his beard and he is accompanied by two warriors to either side of him. The first one on the left is a man with black hair and beard and he is armed with a scythe. The second one on the right is a woman she has long reddish-brown hair and she is armed with a sword and bow. "Welcome to Isengard. Are these all the warriors you brought with you?"
"No." Wulf said in a thick, deep voice. "I have many more waiting outside the gates. We have yet to hear the extent of your offer and only when we do we will make a decision." He pointed his two subordinates. "The man on my left is Borgo and the woman on my right is Orleth. Those two are my fierce warriors."
"Most wise and introductions." Saruman chuckled with a mildly piercing stare. "But perhaps it would be better if you and I could speak without the company of your fellow soldiers and warriors. As leader of the Dunlings, I would speak to you and you alone."
Wulf looked suspicious at the notion. "I have heard of your powers, White Wizard. What is to stop you from blasting me to pieces once I am alone?"
Saruman actually laughed and fixed the leader of the Wildmen with his fierce eyes and said. "If I wanted you dead, Wulf, I would, as you so eloquently put it, blast you to pieces right here along with the rest of your group. There would be little you could do to stop me. In fact, there would be nothing."
The other Wildmen looked nervous at the proposition and look to their leader for guidance. The two warriors next to their leader are wary to protect their chief. But before he could say anything Saruman added. "But I did not summon you here for that. I needed your armies and therefore I will need the support of their leader. Come, let us step inside so we can negotiate."
Wulf nodded and followed the White Wizard inside. And not just because Saruman had given him sound arguments and reassurance in a strangely morbid fashion, but also because he was almost physically compelled to without realizing it. He left his two warriors to look after his troops. Merely hearing it was practically enough to get even the most wary and superstitious of Men, as these Dunlings were, to listen to him.
XXX
They ascended the stairs into the tower and silently walk up several more steps until they reached Saruman's throne room, where the Palantir sat on its pedestal at the center. As Saruman turned and settled on the obsidian chair set into the wall he laid his staff to one side and rested his hands in his lap.
"I will hear you out." Wulf said as he stood before the Palantir. "I have gathered many of my people as your Crebain spies requested me. What is it that you want us to do?"
"Simple really." Saruman said silkily. "I want your armies to fight for me. The world is changing. Even you, who dwell in the caves of most remote of places, must be realizing this. The Darkness is stirring in the land of Mordor, and the Dark Lord Sauron is rising to power once again."
"So it is true?" Wulf asked. "There were rumors among my people of it but that is all they were."
"It is very true." Saruman replied. "His armies are building, his fortress is rebuilt, the Nine have now returned once more in the lands. And soon, war will be coming to all the lands of Middle Earth from Gondor up to the Mountains of the North. And sooner or later, everyone must choose their side."
"But I was under the impression that you were on the side of Rohan's people." Wulf growled.
"Once." Saruman smirked. "Yes, once. But those times have passed. I have my eyes opened, so to speak. I have seen things, many things. And I know that against Sauron and his rapidly growing armies there will be no chance of victory to any to stand in their way. His power grows daily, in both strength of force and strength of self. The darkness is coming, Wulf, and soon will engulf all of Middle Earth. I ask you, what is the harm in joining the winning side to ensure your own survival? It is the obvious course to take."
"So you have thrown your lot in with the Dark Lord, eh?" Wulf sneered.
"Indeed I have." Saruman smiled thinly. "And with me by his side, I can tell you now that he is unstoppable, for I am building my own army and my own power. And I want you to be part of it."
"And why should I do that?" Wulf asked. "We have no business with anyone in the hills. We are no threat to Sauron?"
"That will not matter to him." Saruman chuckled. "In the view of the Dark Lord, you are either with him or against him, and if you are not the former then you will be the latter, no matter how far you try to run, how well you hide or how much to wish that you weren't. Once Gondor and Rohan fall, he will more than likely come for you next. Unless, of course, you join him."
Wulf said nothing for a moment, digesting this information. Saruman could see that he was already getting through to the Man, but he knew full well what the icing of the thought would be. And he also knew it had occurred to Wulf as well.
"Join me now." Saruman sneered. "And you can have what you desire. Everything that you desire. I know that your people wish for vengeance on the people of Rohan. They drove you to the far lands of Dunland when they first settled there didn't they, stealing your lands and forcing you to adapt to survive."
Wulf growled under his breath and Saruman pressed on, knowing he was getting through to him.
"Over the years, your people have constantly been leading assaults on the borders of Rohan across the Fords of Isen. I have seen you. Ever since your last great invasion into Rohan failed many times to drive them out with only minimal success. You are scattered folk now, with only a fraction of the power you desire. With my own army."
"Your own army?" Wulf questioned. "Those Orcs? Filthy creatures, the lot of them."
"I am not denying that." Saruman admitted. "But they do serve their purpose. Nevertheless it is not Orcs of which. I speak, but my own creations, a crossbreed I devised from blending the body of an Orc with the body of a Man, with all the best qualities of both. They are the fighting Uruk-hai, and with them under my command my campaign against Rohan has already begun.
"How so?" Wulf asked.
"My Uruks have been raiding the borders of Rohan as you once did." Saruman smirked. "The Rohirrim were unprepared from their aggression, their strength and their discipline but fought with spirited resistance all the same. Nevertheless, their outer defenses across the borders have all but broken already and now my armies able to roam across Rohan into is undefended villages. The slaughter has already begun."
Wulf smirked as well. "The straw-hats are getting what they deserve then." He said, using the mocking name that the Wildmen used to describe the Rohirrim due to the large number of warriors who were also blond. "They forced us into exile and out of the lands we owned."
"Indeed." Saruman nodded. "But now they are weak. Weaker than they have ever been. Not only are my Uruk-hai tearing through their defensive lines, but I also have an ally in the King's court, who is channeling my power into the King himself, weakening him and bending him to my will. It won't be long now before I gain complete mastery over King Theoden himself. Rohan will soon have no defenses left to fall back on. Not even their great fortresses will be able to keep us out. I breed hundreds more Uruk-hai every day, while they die and receive no reinforcements. They are crumbling. And now is your chance to take back what you deserve. Join us and you and your warriors will be spared the wrath of Sauron and be part of the final destination of the Horse Masters."
Evidently Wulf very much liked the sound of this, a slow grin appearing over his face as he thought of the consequences. Quite frankly, he did not see either how the Rohirrim could pull out a victory if everything Saruman said was true.
Perhaps this was indeed the chance he was looking for.
"And." Saruman added for the final touches. "Sauron's own armies are growing exponentially every day. His own armies are already advancing on Gondor to the south. The armies of the Two Towers, Orthanc and Barad-dur, will crush the Men of the West beneath our fists and sheer strength in numbers if nothing else. Now, I ask you again. Will... you... join us?"
Wulf was nodding his head already by this point, both due to the immense anticipation he was feeling and due to the words that Saruman's voice itself was putting on him.
"We will fight for you." He nodded, showing his much blackened teeth with a vicious grin.
"Swear it." Saruman said immediately.
Without hesitation, Wulf drew his knife from the sheath on his belt and held it up for a moment. His face turned into a grimace and he gritted his teeth as he slowly and deliberately placed the edge of the knife blade and against the palm of his other hand and, with excruciating slowness and deliberation he pushed it in and drew the blade downwards. Saruman watched with terrible fascination and immense satisfaction until Wulf drew his blade away and clenched his fist to hide the deep wound he had just done to himself.
The Wildmen were barbaric people. To them, there was nothing remotely primitive or disturbing about this self-mutilation. Wulf gritted his teeth and gave Saruman a fierce look as little of blood began to seep through his fingers and run down the back of his hand.
"We will die... for Saruman." He confirmed, his savage grin slowly returning to his face.
Saruman nodded. Now with Orcs, the Wargs and the Wildmen behind him, it seemed that there was little that could stand in his way. And yet he had still not finished his designs. Now he had to go out and speak to the rest of the Wildmen and get them to follow their leader, but after that, he had some... devising to do. There was, after all, more than one advantage to industry to mass production of weapons. Must get larger and much more powerful... devices.
XXX
And yet Saruman was completely unaware to the presence of two small creatures that were currently making their way through the pits down below and doing their best not to get noticed.
"Slow down would you?" Bombmon 2 glowered at his counterpart as they hopped through a thin crevice. "Do you want to be seen?"
"So what if we are seen?" Bombmon 1 crowned as he came to a stop and waited for the other to catch up. "If they come near us we can just blow their faces in."
"And then what?" Bombmon 2 asked petulantly. "Exploding in an underground place like this is a bad idea alone, but surrounded by all of these creatures. We might be able to blow a few of them up but sooner or later we will run out of steam. And from what I can see, they're not."
He indicated with his eyes and the two of them peered around the wall, watching as a pair of Orcs pulled what looked like huge ball of mud began writhing and growling as they watched in revulsion as the Orcs, peeled it aside to reveal the tall, fanged Uruk-hai within.
"Ugh." Bombmon 1 was disgusted. "What are these things anyway?"
"The heck if I know." Bombmon 2 muttered. "But all the more reason that we got out of this place while we can cause these guys do not look friendly."
"Can't argue with that." Bombmon 1 sighed.
"And we don't have any backup." Bombmon 2 pointed out. "If Greymon was here then yeah, maybe we could bust out of this place. But he's not, so we can't."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it. So what's the plan?" BomBombmon 1 said.
"You think I have a plan? The only plan I have is to find an exit and leave." Bombmon 2 said.
"Great plan." Bombmon 1 rolled his eyes. "Well, we're in a cave aren't we? Let's just find a door."
"Yeah, I don't think we're in a cave." Bombmon 2 followed his gaze, he realized that his partner was probably right. They could see the sky above them through a large hole in the roof and there appeared to be quite a few of them dotted around the place.
"I think we're in some kind of cavern." Bombmon 2 went on. "Look, there's a bunch of wooden walkways stuff that lead up to the top. That means that well... the only way is up."
"Oh wonderful." Bombmon 1 muttered. "And how exactly are we meant to get up one of those things without being spotted? We might be small but there's no way that they're not going to notice a couple of little strangers bouncing up there in plain sight of everything."
"First you're over confident and now you're cynical." Bombmon 2 signed. "Make up your mind."
"Who are you calling cynical?" Bombmon 1 fumed. Quite literally actually, as the fuse on the top of his head suddenly lit. Bombmon 2 almost yelled and leap at the other, knocking him over extinguishing the fuse by bouncing on it a couple of times.
"Are you out of your mind!" He hissed. "You could bring the wall down on us if you blow here."
"Right yeah, fine." Bombmon 1 pushed himself upwards. "Sorry. Anyway, how are we meant to get out of here?"
"I don't know. Do I have to think of everything?" Bombmon 2 said.
"Fine. Maybe we can get one of those birds to fly us out or something?" Bombmon 1 said.
"I don't like the look of those birds. They look like they're waiting for something to happen." Bombmon 2 said wary.
"And I was actually being sarcastic. Like we're going to get a lift from a bird. Most Digimon don't even want to go near us and I don't even think those are Digimon." Bombmon 1 said.
"I don't think anything here besides us is a Digimon." Bombmon 2 grimaced as they saw another Uruk being pulled out of the muck. "And I certainly don't think that that I was born like that. But... well... maybe we can get a lift out of here."
"What, on a bird?" Bombmon 1 asked.
"No, not on a bird, you idiot. But maybe we can, I dunno... stow away on one of these creatures. Maybe if we can find a bag or... or a bucket and hide in it then somebody could carry us out of the pit and wouldn't even know that we were there." Bombmon 2 suggested.
Bombmon 1 stared at his buddy for a moment and then let off a small sigh. "Well it's better than anything else I can come up with but still, I get the feeling that this could end very... very badly."
"Well if it does... then we can do for the blow up in people's faces approach. Sound good." Bombmon 2 said.
"Yeah!" Bombmon 1 cheered.
XXX
The characters I added in are the two Uruk-hai Captains named Mauhur and Lugdush. Next is a Orc Captain name Gurz. And finally are two Dunling warriors named Borgo and Orleth. Their Dunling Chief name Wulf. Those characters are from The Return of Shadows Mod for Battle for Middle Earth.
Next story will involve Shoutmon with Gandalf and Deckerdramon with Stingmon and Lilamon are going to meet each other in Fangorn Forest.
Next time Chapter 12 Forest Guardians.