A/N: Remember! Humor-driven story! Don't take it too seriously. Hope it makes you smile.
Well the last chapter currently has than one hundred reviews and counting. Wasn't expecting that! 0_0
Managed to get this out just as I left for work. I'll be working a double today, so I won't be back until later. Still! Can't wait to come home and read everyone's reviews~!
That aside, I just beat Shadow of War again. Ah, the Nostalgia. The Shadow Wars were far better this time around. Not touching the Eltariel DLC, though. *spits* The gang and I want nothing to do with that vile woman after replaying the game. My sources tell me she's gonna be the VILLAIN of the third game apparently, alongside Celebrimbor. Joy of joys. Can't wait to get vengeance for Talion. Still, there might well be hope for miss high and mighty in THIS particular tale...provided someone knocks some sense into her.
But if that doesn't happen...
Also, made peace with more of the trolls. Oddly enough, some of them just wanted to be heard. Turns out they wanted me to write pure naruto stories rather than crossovers like I did in the old days, but I politely turned them down. Hopefully the flames wi
Now then, in lieu of a long author's note, I'm going to cut this short and leap right into the thick of things.
Don't worry, we'll get a Naruto POV in the third chapter. Right now, we're still laying the groundwork. Speaking of which...!
"Look, Boss. You wanna make yourself heard in Mordor? Then you're gonna need an army.
And if you want an army, you need captains. Strong captains.
Lucky for you, I know just the Olog...
~?
Popping Heads
Bruz was a simple bloke.
He lived a simple life here in Nurnen, with simple needs.
Eat, sleep, drink some grog, throw a feast, get into the odd scrap down in the arena, pop off the occasional head or two, that sort of thing. Yeah. Simple. He had three blood brothers he was happy to call kin, but beyond Baz, Daz, and Gaz, he answered to no one. While he respected strength, he wasn't so beholden to the idea like other Ologs. To be fair, he enjoyed a good scrap as much as any other bloke, yet he wasn't willing to die for some pointless cause either. What was the saying those pinkskins used?
He who runs away lives to fight another day? Aye! That was the one.
Granted, if that Gravewalker bugger ever showed his face around here, Bruz would be sure to pop it right off his shoulders. Proper courtesy, that. After all that Ranger had done, it would be rude not to try. But barring any such visit, he didn't much care for things as they were.
When you were one of the toughest buggers this side of Mordor, you didn't get much in the way of a challenge. The occasional idiot would try, but they never lasted. Bosses didn't much matter at that. Sauron was a load of shrakh these days, and that bloody Ranger wasn't much better. No one had seen him in weeks. Which was fine, because it meant he wouldn't be bringing any of that "Suffer Me Now!" business round here! He was his own Olog, thank-you-very-much!
Bright lord, Dark lord, same thing, really.
"Bruz, you old bastard! Thought I'd find you here!"
So when an old friend -in as much as an Olog like him could have a friend- waltzed into the arena one misty morning, Bruz jumped at the chance to escape his boredom.
"Well!" he brayed, dragging himself out of his stupor and to his feet. "Look who the caragor dragged in!"
Now, Kruk was an old Uruk, and one of the few blokes Bruz wasn't keen on messing with these days. Some said he was cursed. Others claimed him immortal. Some said necromancers hadn't let him rest for hundreds of years; that was the reason for his pale skin and those eerie golden eyes. The truth was far more mundane.
Kruk was simply very good at what he did.
There was something of an unspoken rule here in Mordor. Orcs didn't get old; not unless they knew how to fight. And that 'ol Bloodax of his? Nope. Whole lotta nope. Bruz wanted no part of that nonsense. They called him the Clever for a reason. He'd fought him once. Once. Never again. But who was that with him?
Clad in a worth leather cloak and mismatching leathers that looked to have seen better days, the Uruk behind him hung back
Waitaminute!
As he looked on they threw back their hood and exposed a tanned face with whiskered cheeks, blue eyes, and blond hair. Poor bugger looked like he hadn't had a bath in weeks. But more than that! This was no Uruk! Or even an Orc at that! What the bloody hell was this?!
"Who's this bugger?" He arched a heavy brow at the human. "You working with a pinkskin now? You gone soft on me, Kruk?"
"Now here me out, you cheeky little shit." The old Uruk hefted his ax. "I've got an offer for you."
"Whoa, there! Nuh-uh. You're barking up the wrong tree there, mate." he waved a large hand at them. "Whatever you're planning, count me out. I'm no joiner."
He expected them to protest, to fight him on his decision, argue at the very least.
"See, boss?" Kruk shook his head. "I told you it would end this way."
Instead, the little bugger beside Kruk smiled.
There was just something about that smile that set Bruz on edge. It was pure. Almost too pure. As if its owner hadn't quite come to accept the circumstances in which he found himself; as though he were treating all this like some kind of crazy fever dream. Anyone with a smile like that had to be hiding something...right? Blue eyes flicked him up and down and must've found what they were looking for; because that smile took on shit-eating proportions.
...he had a bad feeling about this.
"Alright, then." the human granted him a guileless grin. "Fight me, then. See for yourself if I'm all talk or not." he spread his arms wide, and something in the gestured cause Bruz to take a step back. "How about it? If I win, you have to hear us out. You can leave whenever you like after that."
Whenever he wanted, eh? Well! That made him a mite bit better than the Bright Lord now, didn't it? Bruz pretended to consider the matter for a moment, and yes, only a moment. He'd always been an Olog of action, not practical thinking. He'd been getting restless anyway. If the little shit wanted to tussle that badly, then who was he to refuse him?
"And if I win?" he scoffed. "You do realize I'll pop that head of yours right off if I get ahold of ya."
"Oh, I'm well aware." the blond beamed. "Which is why I won't be letting you touch me."
Wouldn't let him? The shrakh did that mean?
"Well, aren't you an optimist! Alright." Massive shoulders rolled in an easy shrug. "I'll have a go. Don't blame me when you wind up dead." He slung his trusty mace over his shoulder, ready to bring it crashing down on that messy mop of hair. Paused. Noticed something else. "You, ah, need a weapon there, little guy? Maybe a stick, or something?"
"Nope." Naruto smiled, sliding into a strange stance. "Don't need one. Thanks for asking, though."
"That so?" Try as he might, Bruz couldn't quite hide his grin. Confidence! He liked that. Almost seemed a shame to squish him. In another life, they probably could've gotten along. Might've been best mates. Still, he was the Chopper after all, and he had a reputation to maintain. "Ah, well. You ready, then?"
"Yup."
And the little shrakh blurred.
Bruz felt his jaw click open as the cloaked figure before vanished in a streak of color and death. A fist slammed into the underside of his chin and snapped it shut, launching him back into the arena wall. Something metal and wooden crunched again his back, but his armor held and kept his spine intact. Didn't stop his brain rattled around in his skull, though.
"Urgh," he slurred, squinting through bleary eyes. "What in blazes was that?"
Kruk chortled softly. "Might wanna give up now, ya big lug."
"And why's that, old timer?!"
"Because," the old Uruk grinned, mouth full of sharp teeth, "You didn't watch yer back."
Some sixth sense compelled Bruz to pivot on his right heel and swing his mace. It saved his life.
A dull clang echoed in his ears as his weapon slapped against an empty palm. Said palm squeezed, and his mace shattered like brittle pig iron, leaving Bruz clutching the ruined half of his weapon. A pang of dread stole through his blackened heart as he looked down. As he saw that strange, selfsame smile.
Blue eyes blazed red.
"My turn now."
What followed was perhaps the most one-sided beating Bruz had ever received. Kid wasn't even trying to be cruel about it; anyone could see he was pulling his punches. Holding back. Trying not to break him. He'd been right; he didn't need a weapon to trounce him. His fists did all that and more, flowing around sweeping blows, vaulting over wild swings, intercepting punches that would shatter flesh and bone alike. Slippery little bugger just slipped right through his grasp, again and
And then, quite suddenly, it ended.
A vicious spinning kick crashed into Bruz's ribs and slammed him against a wooden palisade. He looked up just in time to meet a roundhouse punch. It launched him straight through the barrier and stunned him. His body skipped and tumbled like a flung stone, face dragging in the dirt in a way no self-respecting Olog wanted to be. By the time he recovered his wits and thought to stand, it was over.
Cold steel tickled his chin. "Good fight."
Bruz blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.
Laughter burst out of him; it was a deep, throaty sound that shook the earth. Not a mirthless cackle but a genuine one. There was no brand searing against his face, no threat of violence and certainly, no Suffer Me Now to be had here. Just a simple congratulation on an honest fight. And it had been a good fight. He couldn't remember the last time someone knocked him around like that. Not since Daz.
"Bloody hell, you kicked my ass." he spat a bloody glob into the earth. "Not sure I'll be much use to ya like this, though...
As he looked on, those red orbs sizzled back into blue.
A marked palm touched itself to his ruined ribs.
"Gimme a minute."
Bruz felt the moment his rib-cage popped back into place. It was a strange feeling, like a thousand tiny hands had reached inside him, grasped the bone, and set it back to rights. The cheeky brat did the same for his right arm and in a matter of moments, the Olog found he had full range of motion restored once more. Handy trick, that. Orcs would flock to his banner if they knew he could heal them. 'Specially some of those Diseased blokes with all the shite they suffered...
"Well, hey." he grunted as a fresh rush of vitality mended the last of his wounds. "That feels kinda nice. You a healer or something?"
"In a sense. Sooo~?" A blond brow arched up at him. "I've upheld my end of the bargain. Care to hear us out?"
"Nah, no need for that." Bruz shook his head. "After a beating like that, you've got my attention."
"You're not even going to ask what the plan is?" Kruk asked.
The Olog grinned. "Think I've got the gist of it."
Naruto sighed. "You really don't...
Bruz disagreed, and so the spectacular misunderstanding was perpetuated further still. Only seemed natural really, what the Kid was planning and all. He was either suicidal -unlikely after that brawl!- or looking to make a name for himself here. And if he wanted to plant his flag in Mordor, he'd have to plant it deep. Sooner or later he'd set his sights on the Fort. And if he could fight half as well as he had just now, the Overlord wouldn't stand a chance, two heads or not. And once that two-headed bastard fell...well, well, well. The Fort would need a new Overlord now, wouldn't it?
Now that he thought on it, Bruz decided he'd like to throw his hat in that ring; no, more than that, he rather fancied his chances with this bloke.
Because he'd been given a choice.
Rising to his full towering height, Bruz stepped back and loomed over the cheeky human that had brought him low. Once again, he saw no fear in those bright blue eyes. Not even a glimmer of it. Naruto simply craned his neck to look up at him and offered him a hand in friendship. Like he knew he wouldn't betray him. Didn't make any sense, that. An attitude like that was bound to get him a knife in the back eventually. This was Mordor after all. Betrayal was an everyday thing, even among his kind. Bloody kid was drongo to trust an orc, but still...
His giant hand dwarfed Naruto's palm as they sealed their pact.
"Alright, boss." he cackled. "Lets pop some heads."
Naruto sighed. "Fine, have it your way...
A/N: Now the fun begins~!
Bruz is Bruz, of course, and a joy to write.
Seemed a shame that the game threw him away for no good reason. Shock value? Really? We already knew the Shame mechanic and what it did.
The key thing to note here, is that Naruto doesn't brand any Orcs, Uruks, or Ologs otherwise. Oh, he can patch them up right and proper thanks to that nifty little Mark on his hand, but at the end of the day everyone that's with him follows him through sheer charisma. Naturally, he isn't going to win everyone over.
Speaking a' which, the gang and I are still tallying votes for his title. Currently, its a three way split between "Orange Lord" or "Orc Lord" and finally, "Golden Lord."
Personally, we prefer Orc Lord, because it has a nice ring to it, buuuuut...
We'll get the Shelob scenes soon enough, I felt it more important to focus on building an army first. And make no mistake, Naruto's gonna wind up with an army by the end of this. Not through any deliberate action of his own, but through a series of...well. I suppose you could call them misunderstandings.
So in the Immortal Words of Atlas...
...Review...Would You Kindly?
And enjoy the Previews!
As ever:
SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS!
PLOT DETAILS AHOY!
YE BE WARNED!
Read at your own risk!
(Previews!)
"You must have rocks in your head! This is Mordor! And you are one man!"
"Funny thing, that." Naruto crossed his fingers together. "Where you see one...I see...many."
Az-Laar perked up like an eager puppy. "We bring war?"
Naruto grinned. "We bring war."
"Hmm?" Guileless blue eyes blinked back at him. "Sure. Of course you can have the fort, Bruz. Its all yours. I trust ya."
...right, that settled it. This kid needed protecting. No one was harming a hair on his head. EVER.
"I SEE YOU."
"Nazgul, ha!" as Kruk looked on, the boss chuckled softly. Blue eyes pulsed red. "That's cute."
"What did the fox say to the spider?"
Shelob arched a dark brow.
...and who are you?"
R&R~!
