Glurg'erg's Demise

Stone fort walls

You stand in the wide, circular courtyard of the unfinished fortress, the soft and grassy ground of the Nindalf beneath your feet. From this side of the walls, you can see the great iron frame for the gate porticulis, securely fastened to the yet unfinished walls of the barbican complex. In the center of this circle of stone are the foundations and rising walls of the incomplete fortress keep. Piled everywhere around you are high heaps of roughly hewn rocks and stones, as well as tall stacks of sturdy timber to be used in the construction.

Glurg'erg stands, his hands on his hip, supported mostly by his right leg. his left is bandaged heavily with rags and leather, most of it stained with dry blood. On his head is perched his metallic, SHINY metal helm, the mask pulled over to hide his face. His chest is wrapped with diagonal bandages, also. A small group of Dogs and a Logaz trot away from the Tek'rak, as if he had just givin them orders.

A pair of armed Uruk warriors, clad in the markings of Dol Guldur, as well as the circular red badge below their left shoulders emerge from the officer's tent of the Pulgorburzob garrison. Pausing as they leave the large tent's smokey confines, the two orcs peer curiously over the gathered throngs of Mordain around the courtyard. The leather flap at the tent's entrance is shoved aside roughly once more, as Troglaaz appears from inside and is followed by the two orcs who trudge slowly behind him through the crowds.

Glurg'erg shakes his head as the group runs off from him, running a hand up and over his skull-tight helm. As he brings his head back up, the first thing he sees is Troglaaz as he roughly exits his tent. the Tek'rak's lip curls up, and a low snarl eminates from the inside of his mask. He starts to walk quickly towards Troglaaz, limping slightly on his left leg. At about 50 paces, he pulls his dull black Scimitar from it's place at his belt. The familiar sound of a scimitar being drawn makes the Snaga near Glurg'erg flinch away, as a small pocket opens around the large Uruk.

Troglaaz's narrow eyes shift slowly in their sockets, his gaze passing disinterestedly over the crowd of snaga working at the keep's gate, to the group of orcs labouring around the construction's unfinished walls. The sudden shifting of figures around Glurg'erg catch his attention, and he half-turns his head to glance in the Tek'Rak's direction, his legs not slowing their movement beneath him as he continues across the courtyard. A low snarl of displeasure issues from the back of his throat when his eyes take in the other Uruk-hai's drawn weapon, his own hand dropping reflexively to the black hilt of his scimitar as he spins around to face Glurg.

Glurg'erg shoves a slow Uruk roughly out of his way, and plants his almost-healed body in front of Troglaaz. His feet are set, and his Scimitar hangs in his hand at his side. His eyes almost glow from within the mask, their narrow form staring at Troglaaz. " Ye MAGGOT! I be knowin' yer Ashjaki scum be stealing my things, frum m' tent! Ye shal I tink I need to be showin' ye what me and MY gang be doin' t' weak thieves..." Glurg'erg takes a quick hop back, and raises his Scimitar with both hands. " I give ye a chance to attack me, SNAGA.. If ye don't, Ye shall die. " A large circle forms emidiatly around the pair, and a few of the closest Uruks finger Scimitars and Spears, glancing around nervously.

The two Uruk guards behind Troglaaz eye each other before stepping forward, one to each side of the Teguk, their own fingers reaching down to grasp the hilts of the blades at their belts. A ringing, metallic scrape is heard, as Troglaaz slides the crooked blade of his dark scimitar out of it's worn sheath, raising it casually before him as he glares into Glurg'erg's eyes. "What is this you say now, maggot?" He asks, adding a low, mocking chuckle at the end of the question.

Even as Troglaaz's own guards step forward, three large, well muscled Uruks with grim looking heavy black axes step from the Circle just behin Glurg'erg. Each of them has a small patch, barely noticable, of a dead looking sun, with wavy snakes as the rays. The symbol of the Burzum-Prakh. Their faces are blank, yet the rest of their bodies are coiled like springs, ready to jump in front of their Tek'rak at a moments notice. " I said ye shall die.. I'll cut yer throat open if ye even think about turnin' yer back on me, MAGGOT."

Troglaaz's left hand darts sideways, palm extended to face his orcish bodyguard as he barks out, "Leave 'im, lads. No need for you to get your pretty blades dirtied on the likes of him." His right hand clenches and unclenches instinctively around the rough, leather-bound hilt of his weapon as he takes a single step back and begins to slowly circle the Tek'rak of Minas Morgul. "So you've been taken from, eh, scum?" He asks, his dark lips peeling back in a mocking grin, "Maybe you should be looking through your own fellows..." His head nods sideways, towards a cluster of small tents belonging to the orcs of Dushgob. Just as he motions, the Uruk-hai darts towards Glurg'erg's right side, keeping well apart yet within reach as he slashes the blade of his scimitar towards the orc's midsection.

Troglaaz attacks Glurg'erg with his Scimitar...

The attack against Glurg'erg moderately wounds him!

Glurg'erg doesn't take his eyes off Troglaaz as the Uruk-hai motions towards his garrison. Raising a hand to his own guards to step back, Glurg'erg's full weight isn't on his own weapon as Troglaaz attacks. he swings hard at his opponants sword, hoping to bat it away. To his dismay, his own Scimitar misses by a hair, and Troglaaz's weapon bites into the Tek'rak's already injured leg. Glurg'erg howls in pain as blood seeps anew from his wounds. Roaring out with anger and pain, Glurg'erg leaps at Troglaaz, holding his Scimitar with one hand. He brings it in a diagonal swip across the Teguk's chest, yelling, " Ye Dirty maggot! I want me coffer back! Da Eye be curin' me and da Dushgob if I kint have it!"

Glurg'erg attacks Troglaaz with his scimitar, but he misses by a mile!

Troglaaz lets out a low hiss as his dark blade connects with his opponent's blade, his dark eyes still gazing squarely into Glurg'erg's own. Muscles tensing, he darts back and away, almost stumbling over several Uruks as the crowd behind him gives way too slowly. Lifting both arms to avoid his foe's strike, he narrowly avoids the blade's razor-sharp point, which passes mere centimeters from his broad, unarmored chest. With a low snarl, he rushes forward, his left hand dropping down to grasp at something in the folds of his surcoat, even as his scimitar is brought down towards the other -hai's right shoulder.

Troglaaz attacks Glurg'erg with his Scimitar...

The attack against Glurg'erg severely wounds him!

The eyes of the Tek'rak widen as the Sword whistles through the air. Glurg'erg sees it in almost slow motion, the blade stained with black blood hewing into his shoulder. In an eruption of the black gooy liqued, Glurg'erg's arm flies off to one side. The tips of half his ribs also fall to the ground, as the Tek'rak crumples limply to the ground. His heart is visible, trying to beat, spurting blood with every pump through a severed vien.

Shoulders slumping in quiet satisfaction, Troglaaz takes a single step back from the bleeding, broken mess of Glurg'erg's split body, crouching forward only to wipe off the thick black blood from his blade on the fallen Uruk-hai's surcoat. Several Uruk warriors step forward from the gathering crowd suddenly, forming a rough ring of steel around the Teguk and the dead Tek'rak, and shoving away any curious orcs who stray too near. With a harsh, rasping laugh, Troglaaz turns towards the three guards who supported the Tek'rak, their bulky forms already slipping through the thick crowds, "Those three will be killed, also. But not by me, not now." With those words, the Teguk of Pulgorburzob steps over the broken body, pausing only to snatch off the shining metal helm from it's limp head as he moves through the crowd towards his tent. As the Uruk-hai passes, the ring of warriors move away and follow, leaving the body to be looted by the greedy packs of snaga surrounding it.