To my Father.
Book I: Men of Dunland.
Concerning Uruks
Uruk-Hai are the spawn of elf or man and orc. Central to the story is an elf-orc halfbreed called Damascus. Paul, weep in shame.
Chapter I: The End of the Beginning
Beneath still water, folk are known to dive deep. Witness the story of Damascus, for no mortal has yet to surpass his. Demon and angel, man and beast, elf and orc, goblin and Saruman yet. Double his debts to his master and see for yourself.
The deranged are spared the agony of untruth, for my truth is that I am Damascus, first of the Uruk-Hai.
Half alive and half bereft of feeling, he yearns for the dismal affection of an uncaring master. The Third Age commences with his father's return. Three and thirty three hundred takes us to his birth, of elfish and selfish extraction, see an orc that appears to be his father. Joshua, be thy own judge. Stumbling across open plains carry him to the path of migratory Dunlendings and orc-men who lack humanity and an elfmaiden in the midst of Lorien bears across and abroad to the realm of Orthanc. Two children are borne. Damascus and Jericho. They till the soil of the fields about Isengard with the wildmen and the chiefs and the bearded and the strange. Dare I say more?
Wolves and prey, elves and goblins, all are within sight of the master of the tower. Saruman, wizard apex; wisdom of nothing. Not Alpha but Omega nonetheless. Time passes. Young Damascus approaches under the guidance of Dunlending and chief adjutant of the white wizard by the name of Joshua. Solace of nothing, give me strength. Ten men and ten goblins. Crossing the Misty Mountains. A reinforcing brigade of five-hundred Uruk-hai. The wild chieftain, bearded and brave atop a conquistador's stallion en route to Rivendell, where a certain ring lies in wait. Forgive us, Eru Illuvatar, but you are not half as brave as he. Nor as mad as Damascus, nor as loyal. The inquisition is upon the elves. Elrond will find where logistical and practical advice give no mercy but are but leaves blowing in a secular wind. Damsel in distress, yet no damsel is to be seen; none but halflings carrying a ring of no virtue. We bind ourselves to Saruman. We carry the banner of the White Hand. We bring death if the surrender is not swift and vanishingly the resistance will see its own futility and horror of rebellion to Isengard. Doom and doom and doom. Kraken. Sauron figures Saruman a stooge.
The fool.
Rivendell will fall without a single Uruk-hai casualty. Elrond will personally surrender the ring to Damascus, who entrusts it in turn to Joshua, who all but flies like crebain back to Orthanc to gift the trinket to Saruman. It is inevitable.
