The Treachery of Fauthmat

Plateau of Gorgoroth

Along the Morgai.

You are at the conjunction of two roads. To the west, the Morgul Road climbs up into the Ephel Duath, thru the Nameless Pass and out of Mordor. This same road continues north-eastwardly, towards Mount Doom and the Dark Tower. Also here, a second road starts its rout northward along the course of the Morgai.

The plateau extends north, south and east as far as you can see; a churning wasteland of dust. Yet, as from everywhere on the plane, Mount Doom can be seen rising above the horizon, speading it's red light and black ash.

Contents:
Omok
Uglub
Golg
Fauthmat

Obvious exits:
SouthEast, NorthEast, Morgul Pass, and North

A wanton scene of carnage lays before you. A wagon lies toppled in a previously concealed ditch, it's horses lay dead or dieing with broken legs. Beside the wagon lay it's two drivers, dead, bloodied by many cruel strokes. Several Orc carcases also lie about the place as well, they are disfigured to the point where any physical feature would be indistinguishable for the gore and wounds that cover them. The one thing that is noticable about all these Orcs are the black cloaks they wear, commonly the symbol of Burzum Prakh.

Fauthmat removes his foot from the other Orc's neck as Golg's struggles cease. Bending down Fauthmat cuts at the ropes binding Golg hand and foot with the jagged dagger he holds in his hand.

Uglub erupts from the brush near the wagon amid much noise and shaking foilage. Other snagas pour out of the brush and surround the wagon, craning thier necks to see what is on top, or eyeing the messy corpses. Uglub glances back at the Vorazg's company and a smirk crosses his face as he pulls his axe from his belt.

Uglub draws a heavy axe from his belt and removes the thick rags covering its sharp edge. He adjusts his grip on the handle by second nature.

Golg lies on the ground, limp and unconscious, with just the faintest hint of breathing, merely a hiss almost unheard, and a barely perceptible rising and lowering of his chest.

Omok gets reddy to pounce on Futhmat.

Grishnakh approaches the scene, but has not yet appeared among the orcs who just burst out around the wagon.

Fauthmat suddenly teeters, as if stricken, falling acros Golg's limp form.

The faint glow of Mt.Doom lights the plains with its unholy glow, only adding to the uneasy feeling of all in the area. Somewhere in the darkness the is the sound of sliding rocks... It could have come from a number of things...but more than likely a rock slide far off. It only adds to the jumpy feelings of all those about....

Uglub grips the side of the wagon and levers himself up powerfully to the top. There he sits for a moment, alertly surveying the scene, hunched over like a gargoyle. A snaga attempts to follow, but Uglub plants his hand on the climbling uruks head and pushes him back down. Slowly, cautiously, he reaches for the fallen form of Fauthmat.

Grishnakh approaches the edge of the ditch slowly. As Uglub comes into view, he pauses, and watches the still forms of Fauthmat and Golg.

Then ground seems to rumble, for but a moment... then the area is quiet again save for those moving around the bodies.

Golg does not stir, for indeed he is asleep, consciousness drained away along with his breath by Fauthmat's foot, so he doesn't react to his surroundings, merely lies there.

Grishnakh approaches the edge of the ditch slowly. As Uglub comes into view, he pauses, and watches the still forms of Fauthmat and Golg.

There is one Orc here who does not appear to be dead, however he is covered in black blood, and his armor and shield bear many rends. The heavy horned helm he normaly wears is cast aside, a creul sword stroke having split it in two. Looking up at the sky, possibly dazed is Fauthmat, a wet sticky mass of blood covering his face.

Fauthmat uses his body to shield his actions from the advancing Orcs. With a sure hand he jabs the small dagger into Golg's side, wrenching it down violently before he releases it from his grasp.

Grishnakh watches the scene calmly. As Fauthmat stabs Golg, he advances to the very edge of the ditch, near the wreckage. "Captain Fauthmat," he says, his voice bearing a strange hint of humor. "You have some explaining to do."

Uglub grips the side of the wagon and powerfully levers himself up to the top. There he sits for a moment alertly surveying the scene, hunched over like a gargoyle. A snaga attempts to follow, but Uglub plants his hand on the snaga's head and pushes him back off of the wagon. Slowly, cautiously, he reaches for the fallen Fauthmat.

Golg 's throat releases a low rasping sound as Fauthmat's blade dives deep into his side. However, be it because of the heavy chain mail he wears that hinders the weapons progression, be it by mere fortune, and though the gash is deep, black blood pouring out in great amounts, no vitals were touched, and he lives on.

Fauthmat's head lolls back and forth, and his eyes focus weakly on Grishnakh. A strangled rasp crawls from his mouth, "Too many... too many." Fauthmat is suddenly siezed by a fit of coughing, raising his hand away from Golg's side to his mouth. When Fauthmat lowers his hand it is covered with black blood.

Grishnakh glances at Uglub and Omok, and the other orcs nearby. "You lot, disarm Captain Fauthmat and bring him along."

Uglub slides his axe into this belt and grips Fauthmat under the armpit, getting a good bit of Golg's blood on himself in the process. He avoid's eye contact with Fauthmat, looking at the boots of the Vorazg as he ponders what to do.

Uglub unwields Fire-blackened axe.

Grishnakh regards Golg enigmatically for a moment, then devotes his attention to Fauthmat and his would-be captors again.

Fauthmat's chest rises and falls slowly, haltingly. Absently he rubs one bloody hand over a cut upon his brow. "We tried, Golg and I," Fauthmat rasps, "But the raiders... there were too many of them... too many..." Fauthmat's voice grows weaker, trailing off.

Grishnakh squints as he hears Fauthmat's gasps. "Raiders, is it?" He looks around at the corpses. "Well, well. Let's bring them in, and hear the tale. Uglub, bring them both along, and any who still live among the rest." He glances down at the 'raider' who had begun to stir.

Omok gose to Fauthmaut. Admireing Fauthmat dagger he reaches for it

Uglub lifts Fauthmat gruffly to his feet. "You! Come!" he shouts to nearby snagas, "Catch the captain" Uglub turns to Fauthmat with a quizzical look in his eye "Or is the captain well enough to get down himself?"

Golg 's lips move in silent words, his eyes opening to a thin red slit, as he strains to regain consciousness. One hand lifts off the ground, a finger outstretched as if to point at something, but soon falls back down again, and, once more, Golg, is still.

Grishnakh gestures to Omok in the ditch. "You, bring Golg. Let's go."

Omok runs to get glog picks him up and leaves

Grishnakh looks around at the corpses, and dispatches another few scouts to haul in two of the 'raiders' bodies.

Fauthmat strains, as if to rise, finaly colapsing in a heap before casting a black glare at Uglub with what seems to be the last of his strength.

Fauthmat becomes limp.

Nearby, the standard of Mordor lies on the ground, the black banner soiled with earth, lined with cuts, and frayed on the edges, though the Red Eye drawn upon it glares out as menacing as ever.

Uglub chuckles bitterly, "Ahh, the Captain isn't feeling too well, it seems" He chuckles and looks about him, first at Grishnakh, then at the scouts who accompanied him. He winks at them and is answered by a few quiet chuckles. "All right then, up with him" He lifts Fauthmat's body up and drops him into the hands of the snagas.

Grishnakh moves over to the fallen standard, hopping down into the ditch to get to it. Sheathing his sword, he reaches down and lifts the flag, carrying it himself as the orcs prepare to march westward again.

Golg moans faintly through lips twisted in pain as Omok picks him up, blood soaking his side now, the flow of the black liquid stronger as the snaga's movements further open the wound.

Grishnakh climbs up the ditch again, ascending to the top ahead of the orcs bearing the bodies of Golg and Fauthmat and the corpses. He spits in disgust, then holds the standard up as the orcs gather.

Fauthmat is carried along. He moves little, excepting the ragged rise and fall of his chest.

Uglub hops down from the wagon and shadows the Vorazg.

Grishnakh inspects the orcs for a moment. "All ready now? Good. Now, back to the Tower. It would be useful if we returned before either of these two expires."

Grishnakh turns and begins jogging westward, the frayed and stained black standard bobbing overhead in the dead air.

Cirith Ungol

Contents:
Skargash
Guthmug
Saluk
Ashjaki Wagon
Large Tent
Uruk-hide tent
Flat Cart

Obvious exits:
Tower and Gate

Golg passes the watchers and enters the tower of Cirith Ungol.

Golg has arrived.

Fauthmat passes the watchers and enters the tower of Cirith Ungol.

Fauthmat has arrived.

Uglub passes the watchers and enters the tower of Cirith Ungol.

Uglub has arrived.

Grishnakh jogs into view at the head of a body of scouts and soldiers. He carries the Standard of Mordor, now stained and cut and frayed. Some of the orcs carry bodies, including two that seem to be Burzum-Prakh and two that look to be Fauthmat and Golg.

Saluk sees thnew arrivals and seeing their rank and frm, stands up sharply to await whatever it is the Vorazg is about to do ..

Uglub attempts to run close to the Vorazg, but is again and again shouldered aside by the Vorazg's guard and consort. He appears to be anxious about something.

Saluk 's eyes widen as he sees the bodies and he can no longer contan his curiosity. He strides closer to the standard ..

A crowd of curious Uruks gathers to witness the return of the Vorazg and his party, their harsh whispering and muttering audible all around the camp. Guthmug lifts his head from sharpening his blade to glance at Grishnakh, he jumps to his feet hurriedly and jogs towards the party, his scimitar still in his hands.

Grishnakh slows as he enters the crowded courtyard, and steps aside to allow the other orcs to catch up. Waving with one arm, he motions them into the tower. "In with the bodies," he calls. Looking about, he spots an orc, Saluk, nearby. "You," he says, "hold the Standard and follow me." He shoves the tall flag and pole toward Saluk unceremoniously.

Saluk jumps forward to catch the standard and after a moment's struggle manages to keep it straight. Having lagged behind the Vorazg, he immediately hastens his stride and stride and joins the Vorazg. He gives a proud, mocking glare at his fellow snaga that watch him with narrowed, envious eyes.

Grishnakh moves into the Tower along with the press of orcs.

You enter the tower and find yourself in a . . .

Hallway

A wide echoing passage leads back from the door to the mountain side. Dimly lit with torches flaring in brackets along the walls, it's distant end is still lost in gloom. Many doors open up off of either side, and towards the back, a stair can be seen that leads up.

Contents:
Guthmug
Golg
Fauthmat
Saluk
Uglub

Obvious exits:
Captain's Quarters, Under Gate, Up, and Door

Guthmug glances suspiciously at the Uruk bodies as he walks along, a small distance behind the Vorazg. He resheaths his scimitar and pushes hurriedly through the quickly gathering crowd of spectators.

Saluk moves alongside Grishnakh, the pole gently swaying from side to side as Saluk struggles to keep the standard straight as he moves ..

Grishnakh moves into a wide room just off of the main Hall. He gestures for the bodies to be deposited on the flagstone floor.

Fauthmat's armor is rent, and black blood stains him from head to toe. The snaga Orcs who cary him strugle under the wieght, but do allow the seemingly unconsious Orc's feet to drag along the ground behind them.

Grishnakh folds his arms, and mutters an order to a slave. The snaga runs off hurriedly.

Golg is carried in slung across the shoulders of a large strong looking snaga. He moves little, stirring from time to time and moaning in protest against the rough handling of his semi unconscious body by the orc, who, paying little heed to Golg's well being, drops him rather roughly on the stone floor, causing a loud yelp of pain from the uruk-hai. You can see the surcoat by his side is cut and soaked in blood, so that seems to be the origin of his present condition.

Fauthmat's head drops limply to the side, his dull unfocused eyes are open, staring blankly as chance would have it at Guthmug. He makes no move other than his ragged breathing.

Uglub attempts to shoulder through the Vorazg's escort with growing urgency. "I have news for the Vorazg about the captain" he growls. A burly officer shoves him aside.

Guthmug moves silently along the wall of the room, walking around several Uruks to stand at the front of the line of spectators. His dark eyes glance curiously from Golg's body, to Fauthmat's own broken form. His expression remains blank, but for the slight nervous clenching of his jaw.

Grishnakh watches the two orcs for a moment. As he is about to speak, he hears Uglub's protestations in the doorway. "Let him through to me," he says softly to the guards.

Saluk stops beside the Vorazg, leaning against the standard wearily. He turns his suspicious and wary attention to Grishnakh in a mixture of fear and pride. Saluk steeples his fingers on the pole.

A jingle of steel on steel is heard as Fauthmat is dropped upon the cold grey stone. The Orc flops over as if dead, making no effort to right itself as he lays on his side, arm pinned precariously beneath himself.

Uglub quickly shuffles through the black throng surrounding the Vorazg and stops a few feet before him to bow. "Mighty Vorazg! As my scouting troup watched, before you arrived on the scene, something strange occurred that I think you should know of!" He pauses and glances back at Fauthmat anxiously, half expecting him to be standing behind him

Grishnakh watches Uglub and listens quietly. "Go on."

Guthmug turns his head to stare curiously at Uglub, his brow furrowing in thought at the Dog's words. He listens intently, occasionally glancing down at Fauthmat's body.

Uglub nods and swallows, "After I had spotted the uruks, I crept up to get a better view. I saw the captain," Uglub points back at Fauthmat, "with a knife, and the other one (indicating Golg), he was all tied up" Uglub shrugs "like a prisoner"

Fauthmat's breathing becomes more stable, and his eyelids flutter. Twisting to one side the broad shouldered Orc extracts his arm from it's uncomfortable position. A low moan escapes his lips as he turns himself over weakly.

Saluk shifts his yellow gaze from the Vorazg to Uglub, taking a while to correct the angle of the standard every once in a while.

Grishnakh looks at Fauthmat and Golg thoughtfully. "Indeed? Well." He looks over to Guthmug. "What do you know of this?"

Guthmug growls very softly, a barely audible rumbling from the back of his throat as he stares down first at Fauthmat, then at Golg. He looks up at Grishnakh at hearing his question, and replies, "I do not know anything about this, Vorazg. I have been at the camp all day."

Fauthmat croaks, "He speaks false! Golg and I killed many of the Burzum Prakh worms before we were overrun, they raided the wagon, took all what was inside, and left us to die!" Fauthmat pushes himself forward, rising up to his feet unsteadily.

As the cold of the stone below begins to find its way into his body, Golg's senses slowly awaken. His eyes blink open, even if for only a few seconds, and his fingers twitch, as if trying to grasp something, though they claw at nothing but air.

Grishnakh looks over at Fauthmat. "Oho, you've awakened, have you? Well. Explain this matter further, please, Fauthmat. You say this scout is lying about you?"

Uglub speaks loudly and paces "Mighty Vorazg! It is the opinion, if I may give it, of myself, your humble servant..." he pauses and stands straight, in front of Grishnakh "that TREACHERY on the part of the captain was committed!" he bows "I live to serve you, master"

Luzog comes into the tower from the courtyard.

Luzog has arrived.

Grishnakh stands in a wide room adjacent to the main Hall. In the room with him are Fauthmat and Golg, both bloodied and incoherent on the floor, though Fauthmat has just risen to speak. Uglub stands near Grishnakh, and Saluk stands nearby holding the battered Standard of Mordor. Guthmug and other orcs stand around the entrance to the room.

Grishnakh glances at Uglub for a second, then back at Fauthmat to hear his response.

Fauthmat's voice is ragged, worn, tired, like two rocks scraping across eachother, "He thinks I am weak, thinks Golg is weak as well, thinks we will die and he will earn glory forhimself..." As Fauthmat speaks his voice grows louder, his legs more solid beneath him, "But we are not weak, we will not die, and his lying tounge I will cut out of his mouth with my own hands!"

Saluk is standing by the Vorazg, a small figure when flanked by much greater orcs as he is now. He struggles to keep the standard straight, causing it to rustle as if swept by a slight, invisible wind.

Fauthmat lunges towards Uglub, but his legs seem to give out, and he falls to the stone floor again, panting.

Grishnakh is silent for a moment, then looks at Guthmug again. "Rakarg. What is your opinion of this orc?" He gestures toward Uglub. "Do you know him as a liar?"

Uglub sidesteps Fauthmat's lunge, then, at the words of Grishnakh, snaps his head around to look at Guthmug

Guthmug stares intently at Uglub for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing as he thinks hard about his reply. His right hand rises to scratch absently at his chin as he voices his thoughts, "He has not yet lied to me, Vorazg. To my knowledge that is..."

Grishnakh grunts and looks at the orcs pressing in the doorway. "What of the rest of you? Are there any orcs of Dol Guldur among you?"

Uglub bows again and rises speaking quickly to Grishnakh "Cut out my tongue he will, mighty leader! Not because it lies, though, not because it lies, but because it will speak of his traitorous actions!" He inhales deeply.

Grishnakh regards the orcs for a moment, then gestures to Uglub. "You, rouse Golg."

Fauthmat attempts to crawl forward, but his hand, slick with blood slips out from under him and he crashes to the floor again. "Lies," he croaks, "lies."

Uglub smiles "Yes, Vorazg!" He hurries to Golg's side and lifts his head. A faint whisper passes his lips as they are near Golg's ear.

Uglub +whispers to Golg, "... have ... ... ... ... ... binding ... ... ... it for ... for ... of ... ..."

Grishnakh watches calmly, patiently waiting for Golg to stir.

Standing a little over four feet in height, Luzog stands with a well made steel helmet made to the usual fashion of orcish gear..strong,durable, and ugly. Across is face and along the sides of his neck, a large scar jags along of a long ago wound. Across his back are numerous furs patched together, all dirty and ragged, but prominant among the other skins is a grey piece that resembles the hide of a wolf. Along his belt hangs a small strand of rope,serving as a make-shift quiver, holds together a small bundle of arrows for the use of his ash bow carried in the grib of his dark hands. He glances back at you noting your stares of curiousity.

Fauthmat bares his teeth as Uglub passes, his clawed hand balling up into a fist. The black mailed orc seems too constricted with pain to lash out at the Orc he so obviously would like to kill.

Grishnakh watches Fauthmat dispassionately, the pale eyes calm in his hideous black face. If he is concerned with any danger to Uglub or Golg, it does not show.

Guthmug's left hand moves slowly to rest on the pommel of the scimitar at his side, his dark finger nails idly scraping at the cold metal. He watches Uglub and the two wounded Uruks with obvious interest, and occasionally glances around the room to catch other's reactions.

Luzog slinks up to teh group and peers down at the bloody orcs with interest.

The jingling of steel links is heard faintly as Golg raises an arm, clutching at Uglub's clothes, the grip of his claw weak, but strong enough to pull him a few inches of the ground. He moans, and his eyes open, hazy and dull.

Grishnakh speaks, his voice ringing more harshly than usual in the stone room. "Gorug! Rise and report."

Uglub's breathing comes quickly as he lifts Golg slightly from the floor. "He is weak! Come closer, if you will hear him!" He whispers to Golg urgently.

Fauthmat's breathing steadies once again, he seems to be waiting, listening, watching.

Uglub +whispers to Golg, "... if ... ... ... ... ... ... ..."

Golg 's other hand reaches down, clenched, knuckles pressing against the stone, and slowly he gets up on his knees, leaning on Uglub as well to do so. Pain shoots through his body, sending him wincing back down, but again he rises, and turns his eyes to Grishnakh, bowing his head. His voice is faint and broken, "Vorazg...I...Fauthmat, he...is..."

Uglub watches Golg's mumbling, a look of horror growing on his face.

Guthmug involuntarily takes a short step forward as he watches the Vorazg and the Gorug, straining to hear what is being said by Golg.

Grishnakh steps closer, and waves Uglub out of the way. "That will do, snaga."

Golg takes in a deep breath and casts a glance around himself. Discovering Fauthmat, he lets his gaze rest upon the other, eyes narrowing and displaying a red brighter than before, as life seeps back into him. Jaws clenched, he speaks, his voice still faint, but steadier, trembling with weakness and anger, "That one...Vorazg...he...is a traitor, he is...yes...a traitor."

Fauthmat erupts into action while the focus is still upon Golg and his words, like a wild beast springing at it's prey. Lunging forward from his crouching position Fauthmat charges into the line of Orcs surrounding the proceeding, shouldering many out of the way. The course of Fauthmat's desparate charge brings him past Luzog.

Grishnakh's eyes become brighter now, shining above a sudden hard smile. But then he looks back with a tight snarl as Fauthmat leaps up and rushes at the orcs in the doorway. His broad hand snatches at the hilt of the long scimitar at his side.

Saluk takes a few steps backward at seeing Fauthmat's attempt, but seeing that he is in no danger, he stedies himself and the standard.

Uglub looks about him in confused terror mixed with relief. "A traitor! A traitor!" he yells, "He said it" Then he ducks Fauthmat's charge.

Guthmug snarls as Fauthmat's lumbering figure springs towards the doorway, his right hand flies swiftly to his scimitar. He darts around and through the group of Uruks near the doorway, towards the fleeing figure of the Tek'Rak, his scimitar now raised above his head.

Guthmug grips the polished obisdian handle at his side with a gauntleted hand. He pulls the scimitar from its bright red golden trimed sheath with a rasp. A thick gently curveing three foot long blade with sharp tip is revealed.

Luzog steps out and brings his bow to come between the running orcs sprinting legs..

Grishnakh snarls out as Fauthmat crashes into the orcs. "Cut his legs! I want him breathing!"

Grishnakh lopes forward himself, as he speaks, to join in the attack if Fauthmat is delayed enough by the others.

Fauthmat falls forward, Luzog's bow triping him up. With a crash he falls to the ground, the palms of his hands scraping the rough stone. He continues forward with his momentum, but his initial surpise is spent, and he is quickly grabbed by many Orkish hands.

Saluk hops from foot to foot, caught by the sudden excitement. The standard heaves from side to side until it threatens to tip over, when the orcs attention is brought back to keeping it straight.

Gathering his wits, Luzog jumps upon the back of the now prone uruk and brings his sharp nails down gripping Fauthmats throat..His legs grip tight upon his body and he squeezed his grip around the orc's throat hoping to keep him still.

Uglub lowers Golg to the ground and salutes him. "Well said, Gorug!" he says "The captain has been caught" He then looks for the Vorazg and runs into the fray to shadow him

Fauthmat snarls and and struggles with his captors like a crazed beast, foaming at the mouth. His wild eyes dart about, not lingering on Uglub Golg or Grishnakh at all. Suddenly his mailed arm breaks free from the grasp of one of his captors, flying up behind him, it's elbow aimed for Luzog's side.

Grishnakh says, "Strip him down." He slows his approach as Fauthmat struggles with the other orcs in the doorway. He glances at Guthmug and Uglub. "Off with his armor and weapons, and then hamstring his left leg. But mind you don't cut too deep."

Fauthmat attempts to lunge forward once again, but crumples to the ground, overcome by the sheer wieght of the many Orcs attempting to subdue him.

Grishnakh says, "I want him crippled, not bleeding to death."

Grishnakh stops and regards Fauthmat with a tight, quiet smile.

Golg drops down forward, his strength wearing out for now, so he collapses upon his hands, eyes closed, his breathing shallow and quick. His gaze shifts up to the comotion around him, but soon drops to the ground, and his eyes close.

Guthmug pushes through the group of Uruks gathered around the fighting Fauthmat, his scimitar still upraised and ready in his right hand. He glares down disgustedly at the Tek'rak, watching as he struggles to free himself from the grip of the Uruks around him. Guthmug glances at Grishnakh and nods at his order, stepping forward and growling at Uglub, "Hold his legst still, Dog."

Fauthmat thrusts the long haft of the single edged axe in his grasp through a loop in his belt.

Fauthmat attacks Luzog with his Bare Hands, but he misses by a handspan.

Uglub bows deeply before the Vorazg, panting from his run. "Yes, great One!" he coos and takes a small knife from his belt.

Saluk is pushed away from the standard by a large Uruk-Hai, apparently tired of seeing the standard sway in the hands of a mere snaga. Saluk gives the Uruk-Hai a defiant snarl, but the larger orc's vicious glare and bigger form remind Saluk of the possible consequences of further resistance.

Saluk scuttles into the crowd, well away from the fight ..

Uglub puts his knife in his teeth and lunges for Fauthmat's left ankle.

Struggling to keep Fauthmat still, Luzog grunt at an awkward blow to his side. Nearly falling off, he crawls hand over leg to regain control of the wild uruk, yelling ,"Be still yous and takes whats comin's to ya!"

Fauthmat bellows a harsh cry as a fell blade bites through his black fur leggings and into his flesh.

Shilka walks in, not quite sure who to bow to he just bows to everyone in general.

Guthmug watches as Uglub cuts into the Tek'Rak's flesh with his knife. He grunts appreciatively and resheaths his scimitar, dropping to one knee beside Fauthmat and gripping the Uruk's belt with his left hand as he pulls his own small dagger from a sheath at his side.

Grishnakh stands in a wide room off of the main Hall of Cirith Ungol. In the doorway of the room is a press of struggling orcs: several orcs of different garrisons wrestle with Fauthmat, while Guthmug and Uglub apparently strive to cut into the victim's leg.

Grishnakh watches the struggle with interest. "Well," he calls, "is it done?"

Fauthmat's heavy fangs are clenched together in pain.

Uglub looks up at Grishnakh, his knife in his teeth stained with black blood. "Yesh Vorashg" he mumbles through his gritted teeth. A hamstrung leg in his grip.

Guthmug brings his small blade forward, cutting through Fauthmat's belt and pulling it away from the struggling Uruk. He nudges Uglub with his left elbow, and says, "Hurry along, take his armor..."

Golg coughs, a rasp, throaty sound, and starts crawling to a nearby wall. Slow and painfully he drags his body in hesitant motions, until he reaches the side of the hallway, where he turns to sit down with his back against the wall, eyes closed, one hand reaching to clutch his wounded side, from which blood still flows.

Grishnakh says, "Guthmug. When you have his gear, let one of your slaves hold it."

Luzog gives Guthmug a small smile of victory..and grunts to make sure his superior notices his warrior skills. He then drives a knee into Fauthmat's back hoping to hear a respnse of pain.

Grishnakh glances back at Golg for a moment. His eyes are cold. "Gorug. Report to the Captain's Quarters when you are ready."

Guthmug pulls Fauthmat's coat of mail away from him, throwing it on the ground beside him before reaching towards the Uruks helmet. He glances at Luzog and says, "Hold these, snaga."

Golg nods faintly at Grishnakh's voice, though he does not see him, his eyes still closed.

Luzog reaches down with one knee on Fauthmat and reaches up to pick up the weapons. He then looks up to Guthmug questionably saying," Who will hold dis Maggot down...?While I gots his war gear?"

Grishnakh looks back at the orcs in the doorway as they tear the gear off of Fauthmat. "Now. Guthmug, your captain here has shown himself as a traitor and rebel. You now will take his place as Tek'rak." Looking at Uglub, he adds, "Warrior, your work was good, here. You will be Logaz now, to lead the other snaga and warriors."

The pack of Uruks around Fauthmat continue to strip him of his equipment, snarling and struggling for the Tek'Rak's armor and weapons. Several pairs of hands and feet press tightly down on Fauthmat to keep him from moving or even struggling to get free.

Uglub stands and salutes the Vorazg. "It is my purpose to serve the Eye and the leaders he has chosen. I will use this promotion to serve you better or let the Dark One devour me!" He bows deeply.

Grishnakh nods slowly, his attention more on Guthmug and Fauthmat.

Guthmug steps away from the traitor as the snaga around him gather the last of his belongings. He glances at the Vorazg and raises his arm in salute, nodding and saying, "You will not see this repeated, Vorazg. I will not allow treason into Ashjaki ranks for as long as I am able to serve the Eye."

Grishnakh says, "Good. Very good. Now, as for the traitor..."

Grishnakh regards Fauthmat coldly for a moment. "You will place him in the cell at the top of this Tower, and keep him under guard for a night and a day. He is to remain unharmed, but he is not to escape. If he escapes or is further harmed, Guthmug, I will reconsider my generosity to you."

Luzog stands up and away from Fauthmat as other snaga press on him their weight to hold him secure.

Guthmug nods quickly, "I will see to it personally, Vorazg. He will not leave his cell until you command it..." Turning towards the press of Uruks, he barks out, "You heard the Vorazg, take him up to the cell!"

Fauthmat struggles weakly, his head drooping.

Grishnakh says, "Wait..."

Grishnakh's eyes shine brighter for a moment. "Once he has been in the cell for a day and a night, then you will bring him down again."

Grishnakh says, "And then we will take him to Shelob."

A low chuckle begins in the back of Uglub's throat..

Fauthmat lifts his head slowly, his dark eyes swiming with disorientation. A glob of spittle, stained black with blood leaves his mouth to land on the floor between him and Grishnakh. "You're a snaga to..." a rough grunt of pain escapes his lips as some Orc holding him pounds his fist into Fauthmat's side. "Him," Fauthmat continues, "I'll die an Uruk."

Bright yellow teeth glare under Luzog's dark skin as he grins at the capture of the traito orc.

Shilka cowers in the corner, not daring to say anything.

Grishnakh laughs darkly. "You'll die an uruk, all right. Someday. I have heard that Shelob takes her meals... slowly."

Grishnakh gestures to Guthmug and his orcs. "Take him to the cell." He laughs softly again.

Guthmug's lips twist into a cruel and amused sneer, he nods to Grishnakh. Raising his hand in salute, he motions to the Uruks holding Fauthmat to start up.

Fauthmat hangs limply in his captors arms.

Luzog says, "A nasty leadersss before..now you too jest a lowly snaga..." Luzog laughs with other nearby orcs as a barrage of spit is sent to Fauthmat's way.

Golg 's lips are crossed by a smile. A cruel and mocking one, amused at another's suffering.