Guthmug's Promotion

Cirith Ungol
Inside the Tower's Courtyard

You are in the angled courtyard of Cirith Ungol, draped in shadows. To either side, the walls of the battlements and tower rise up, dwarfing you. In the south-eastern wall the Gate is set, and across from it in the tower's base sits a large door.

Guthmug has arrived.

Lugoth is taking some DOgs through the motions of scimitar fighting. Taking a step back from them he grunts, "All right, lads, carry on and I'll come back in a minute or two." The Uruks keep on sparring and Lugoth heads over to Gurhmug.

Guthmug emerges from his tent, his left hand placed lightly on the pommel of the scimitar at his belt. A snaga standing near the tent turns sharply towards Guthmug, and hurries to follow behind him, carrying two bow staves in his arms.

Lugoth flixks an idle salute at Guthmug and says, "I heard the Vorazg promoted you, Tek'Rak...", he says

Bulak shuffles along his broad mailed shoulders rocking.;

Guthmug stops directly before Lugoth, throwing his arm up to salute the Teguk. He nods his head, "Yes, Teguk. He did." The snaga scrambles behind him, stopping several feet away and glancing up fearfully at Lugoth.

Lugoth nods, "Well, I agree with him. You've done good work so far." He purses his lips, "Now, what do you think of what Fauthmat did ?"

Guthmug frowns darkly, a soft growl sounding from the back of his throat. "The traitor was a fool, a fool and a worthless rat for trying something stupid like that..."

Lugoth nods, "Not only that. What he did was what the idiots out of the BP do. Sneaking and scheming about. The Ashjaki work FOR the Eye ! We don't go brawling and we work towards those ends the Eye wishes." He chuckles and lowers his voice slightly, "We don't get caught doing stuff like that anyway. You understand what I mean, Guthmug ?"

Guthmug nods quickly, almost eagerly as he replies, "No, Teguk. Gotta be smart to be Ashjaki... we don't get caught, er, we don't do anything stupid like the fools in the Burzum Prakh 'Tribe'" He pronounces the word with a certain scorn, and adds, "If you can even call that pack of rats a tribe..."

Lugoth chuckles, "Exactly. Well, since Fauthmat let me down and is out of it, I need a new second-in-command. You got any suggestions, tek'Rak ?"

Guthmug looks up hopefully before managing to conceal his interest, he clears his throat loudly and says, "No... specific suggestions, Teguk. But you should take someone who is loyal, and has brains...someone dependable...who wouldn't try anything stupid like that rat, Fauthmat."

Lugoth nods, "I've been thinking along those lines, tek'Rak. but how can I be totally sure that whoever I choose as LataDurb IS loyal, and with brains?"

Guthmug remains silent for a moment, pondering his next answer. He raises the hand from the hilt of his scimitar to scratch at the underside of his jaw before replying, "It should be someone who has proven himself already..."

Lugoth nods, a small smile playing around his lips, "Aye. But then again, Fauthmat proved himself to me many, many times, still he failed me in the end. ALthough what he did was, well, not altogether stupid, he still failed the task, and I NEVER KNEW ABOUT IT ! I want my LataDurb to inform me whenever he does something of importance to the tribe."

Guthmug nods slowly, "Of course, Teguk. You must be kept informed properly. Your Lata-Durub should be someone who would tell you everything important that happens in and around the tribe...but he shouldn't be one to waste your with useless reports either, Teguk."

Lugoth nods, "That's right. That's where the brains come in to the picture. Now, do you think you could be all of these things to me, Guthmug ?"

Guthmug looks up at the Teguk, his eyes glittering eagerly as he responds, "I believe I could, Teguk. If you give me the chance, I could prove my worth as your Lata-Durub..."

Lugoth nods, "I'll give you the chance, Tek'Rak Guthmug. You'll serve as my LataDurb from now on. I expect you to keep discipline, and beat down any any signs of treason within our ranks. I've seen treachery enough for a while now. They're scheming and dealing all over, behind my back all the time." He snorts in anger, "Behind my back !", he repeats, then shakes his head, as if coming out of something, "I'll brief you on all the different duties of a LataDurb later, Guthmug."

Guthmug raises his arm in salute and nods to Lugoth, "Yes Teguk. I'll keep a specially careful watch on those scum, the Burzum Prakh... " The snaga behind Guthmug shuffles a bit, reminding the Tek'Rak of his presence. Guthmug turns his head to look at the snaga and back again to Lugoth, saying, "Oh, and Teguk... I recovered some weapons from the... er, battle. They belong to the tribe."

Lugoth nods, "I'll put them in the wagon until some Ashjaki need them. Now, go on with your duties and I'll get back to these SNaga and see what I can teach them." He salutes Guthmug, "You're dismissed, LataDurb Guthmug !"

Guthmug nods once and turns away, his short legs carrying him quickly through the courtyard and across the camp. The snaga approaches Lugoth hesitantly, offering the bow staves to the Teguk.

Lugoth points to the Ashjaki wagon, "Put them in there, Snaga." The Snaga scurries off and puts the bows in the wagon.

Golg walks out of the tower, stopping at the doorway to cast a gaze about the darkened courtyard. He holds the standard of Mordor in the right hand, while the left caresses an empty place on his belt. His eyes set on Guthmug, and he calls out, "You...Guthmug one."

Guthmug spins sharply to face the standard bearer as he passes near the tower's doorway, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he studies Golg. He throws his arm up to salute, and asks simply, "Yes?"

Golg 's lips part in a grin, and a single word he utters in a deep rasp voice, "Scimitar."

Guthmug silently regards the Uruk-hai before him for a moment, his left index finger moving up to scratch at the side of his jaw. "Yes... there seems to be a shortage of weapons, doesn't it? Well... I was difficult, but I believe I have found something for you, Gorub."

Golg nods, patting his side close to the belt, and adds, in a cold voice that does but acknowledge Guthmug's words, "Yes, you have."

Guthmug glances quickly around, his dark eyes noting all the orcish figures nearby before continuing, "I will get it for you... if you would wait for me near the supply carts. I should warn you, however, it cost me much... and I must refill my own purse, if you know what I mean..."

Golg raises an eyebrow at Guthmug, his grin widening, "You sure of that, are you? Because I might like to know where and how you get these weapons when there's none in the stocks, I might, yes.", his voice is soft and mocking, "But I'm ready to reward you for it, yes. Just don't take things for granted, no."

Bulak lumbers through the courtyard, a large rounded piece of wood, probably a club, gripped in one hand and balanced upon his shoulder. His wanderings take him past Guthmug and Golg, and his brow furrows as he looks at the two Orcs exchanging pleasantries.

Guthmug shakes his head slowly, his eyes wide, "I would never take such things for granted, Gorug. I will go and get it now..." Turning, he speeds away, pausing slightly to glance at the towering Olog roaming the camp before darting into the Ashjaki tents.

Bulak uses the giant club like a crutch as he brings himself to a sitting position closeby. Even with his legs folded under him he is still much taller than the two Orcs. Idly the monsterous creature begins to inspect his fingernails.

Golg slowly turns to gaze at Bulak and takes a small step away from the towering figure of the troll, nervously clutching the shaft of the standard tighter and closer to his body. Again he looks towards the tents Guthmug disappeared into.

Bulak seems to grow bored, and begins scratching his chin as he looks up at the sky, which swirling with dark clouds.

Guthmug soon emerges from among the Ashjaki tents, a long bundle wrapped in cloth across his arms. He glances around nervously before starting back towards Golg, purposely skirting around the edge of the camp to avoid the troll. As he reaches the entrance to the tower,

Guthmug holds out the bundle in his arms, smiling and nodding towards it as he offers it to the Gorug.

A few moments pass and the large creature begins to sway unsteadily. Toppling like a large tree that has been cut, the Stone Troll falls to the side, his hand propped up under his head, and his elbow resting upon the ground. It is by scant inches that the desending creature avoids crushing Golg beneath it's wieght.

Golg reaches for the bundle, resting the standard up against the wall. Paying no further attention to Guthmug, he starts removing the cloth to uncover what lies within, when the troll suddenly lands on the ground close by. He jumps back, startled, letting the bundle fall on the dirt.

Guthmug hops swiftly away from the falling Olog, his eyes wide with fear. Quickly, he reaches down and picks up the bundle, offering it to Golg once more. He swallows nervously and says, "Ah, it's a fine weapon... It will serve you well, Gorug."

Golg picks up a Scimitar.

Golg starts to remove the wrappings, slowly revealing the gleaming black blade of the weapon. He drops the cloth to the floor and rises the blade slowly in the firm grip of his right claw, rotating it so he can best apreciate the scimitar's qualities.

Golg slides the scimitar into the belt by his side and lowers his gaze to Guthmug again, saying coldly, "How much?"