Golog hated wasting time. He had wasted his first thousand years as an Orc, despising himself and his kind. His second thousand years were not much more productive. He continued to waste opportunities. He had allowed himself to be nothing more than a tool for Sauron. He had refused to become a true disciple of his Master, and study with the great Necromancers in the far corners of Middle-Earth. But things changed. Golog experienced a great awakening, and realized that being Orc was a gift that he had been squandering.

Golog had spent the last five hundred years learning, and now there were dark arts that he himself had taught Sauron. He was Noldor, noble and ancient. Surpassing their teachers was their way.

Dwarrowdams were an example of Golog's intellectual evolution. Other Orcs would only wage war with Dwarves on the battlefield. Certainly, a Dwarf was a worthy opponent. They were strong, resilient, and fearless. Golog had enjoyed fighting them on Sauron's orders, or even out of boredom. But Dwarves rarely if ever sent females into battle because there was only one of them for every four males. When you killed a Dwarf female, Golog determined, you killed their future. Such was the beauty of mathematics. Golog's strategy was to attack Dwarves in their homes - in the deep mountains that they thought they had made safe for their wives and children. That is how a battle line was truly broken - break it a hundred years before it could form.

But Golog soon realized he had not taken his study of Dwarves seriously enough. He had almost overlooked the deeper value of Dwarrowdams. Even most Dwarves did not know that Dwarf women with the Gift were powerful prophetesses. This was the great secret he learned by studying them closer than anyone had before, by entering their homes, and seeing what they tried to protect above their own lives. No necromancer knew, no Elf knew, but Golog knew.

The White Council was made up of blind fools that should have discovered this centuries ago, and begged the Seven Tribes of Dwarves to join them by sending Seers.

'Snobbery.' Golog thought. Not that he had much more appreciation for Dwarrowdams. He found even the most beautiful of them to be ugly. Golog had been a high-born Elf and his standards of beauty had not waivered over the centuries.

He also found Dwarrowdams to be unimaginative. That worked to his advantage. When he did break one of the Gifted, he could always be sure that what she told him was the truth. They were utterly hopeless at lying. They lacked imagination and the skills to craft an elaborate manipulation, Golog contemptuously surmised.

Golog had extracted, under torture, a consistent prophecy of his future as King of Orcs, crowned by Sauron, the Dark Divinity of Middle-Earth. These were among the many prophecies that he, the student, was able to give to Sauron.

The time was coming. Not immediately, but soon. Golog had been warned to be patient.

The time was also coming for Golog to find his Queen. He had been told she would equal or even surpass him in intellect and cunning, and her heritage would legitimize his claim to many Kingdoms.

He had also been given a very troubling personal prophesy. He had been told that he would pay for his many mistreatments of women in the form of a son who would steal the heart of his Queen. Golog had not wanted to believe it, but it had been consistently told by vengefully gleeful Dwarf seers for decades. He finally acted on it. He hunted down and slaughtered every male child he had fathered upon Orc, Elf, or Woman. He had put sword to more than one very promising Orc lieutenant. It was a sacrifice in some cases, but necessary.

After it was done, the prophetesses still told the same tale. He realized the term 'son' was not literal. Golog thought of the many Elves and Men he had turned to Orc, perfecting Sauron's methods. Golog taught his improved corruptions to Sauron, and to other Orcs of worth. He then hunted down and killed all the Uruk-Hai he had personally made, and never turned another. This took decades, and still the prophetesses spit out the same story.

Golog railed and cursed and racked his brain for any overlooked encounter. Finally, it occurred to him. Many years ago, before the prophecy, he had taken up the challenge of turning Dwarf to Orc. Sauron himself had tried and failed. Golog wanted to solve this great mystery for himself and for the greater glory of Sauron. He encountered one failure after another. Dwarves could neither be bred with Orcs nor turned to Orcs. Golog's last untested idea was that one might be turned before it was born.

His Ironfist spies helped him. They lured out one pregnant Dwarrowdam for Golog to capture and play with. He used all of his skills on her to corrupt her and her unborn child. He threw her in a cell, and waited. The wait proved to be short. The new Dwarf prophetesses he had captured screamed at him that the Dwarrowdam would die if he did not let her go. He did not care if she died. The prophetesses told him he would never know if his experiment worked if he did not let her go, for she would not last long enough to birth her child. He took the female from her cell. He cut her hair, branded her face, and conducted all of the usual degradations that the Dwarves had come to expect. He needed her to believe she was merely an ordinary victim of his well-known campaign of terror and intimidation. Then, he let her go.

Half a year later, his spies reported back to him. The dwarrowdam had birthed a healthy boy with no resemblance to Orc. Golog was disappointed, and frankly bored. Sauron had sent word that his Easterling allies would benefit from Golog's skills. They had several necromancers Golog might wish to study with. Golog gathered his troops, Ironfist mercenaries and captive seers, and left the Blue Mountains.

Now, Golog realized he had never bothered to track down and kill that one 'son'. He had nearly forgotten about it. Those refugee Longbeards were scattered, coming and going throughout Middle-Earth seeking work and safety. He had to locate his oldest surviving Dwarf spies to even begin to know where to look.

An Ironfist spy among the Longbeards, decrepit with age, told him that if he found Thorin Oakenshield, he would find the boy, for it had to be one of Thorin's two nephews. It was Golog's spy who told him that Thorin had set out to Lonely Mountain. A seer confirmed it, and warned him that Thorin would awaken the dragon, Smaug. Golog had, in turn, informed Sauron's vassal, Azog. But Azog had failed to kill Thorin and his kinsmen before they took shelter in the impenetrable fortress of Erebor.

Now Golog found himself preparing to fight beside Bolg, Azog's idiot savant Orc-spawn. Wasting time, preparing for a pointless battle against Man and Elf, just for a chance to get close enough to kill his last possible 'son'.

Sauron himself had asked that he not bother, but instead depart for Mordor, to prepare for the ultimate war still many years away. Golog humbly asked permission to stay and fight at Erebor, for personal reasons. Sauron granted it, for Golog had proven his value and loyalty over centuries.

'Another lesson in patience and humility.' Golog told himself as he sharpened his crescent arrows.