Khurzurkum: Death and Promotions
Lavish Room
A small, squarish cavern, twenty feet on each side. Everything in the place seems quite clean, if a little worn with age.
An ornate candleabra hangs from the apex of the arched ceiling overhead, while in one corner stands a tall pole upon which burns a fat yellow candle. A low slab of smooth black slag covered with white wolf pelts serves as a bed, while a stout iron-framed oaken chest at its foot secures a guest's possessions. Sheets of red and black dyed silk hang over the walls.
Obvious exits:
Kurzka pushes open the door and steps into the room from the hallway outside.
Urgin pushes open the door and steps into the room from the hallway outside.
Gurglflu pushes open the door and steps into the room from the hallway outside.
Grishnakh lies quite still in the expansive, flat and fur-adorned slab that occupies the center of the cave. A heavy, black coat of mail hangs on stout iron pegs on the wall nearest by. A wide metal-bound shield rests against the bed near the sleeping Vorazg's feet.
Kurzka slowly steps in, following the opening of the heavy black door. He glances around his surroundings, then steps forward again. His face is covered by an black piece of cloth, even over his eyes. He spots the vague figure of Grishnakh, and starts towards it. A dagger is kept tightly in his right hand, ready to stab. behind him follow two other similarly dressed uruks.
Urgin steps in and moves to one side of the leading two, his dagger gleams in the dim light of the room. His teeth are bear from a grin, squirming to his dark lips. He leaves the door open behind him as he enters. . .
Gurglflu fallows behind Kurzka, moving to the oppisite side of the Slab that the leading Uruk is moving towards, his spear held over him, his eyes narrowed.
Grishnakh breathes deeply and rhythically, the sounds distinct in the close confines of the room. After a moment, his breath catches slightly, perhaps... but then his breath is deep again, and it is hard to tell if the rhythm had even been interrupted.
Kurzka stiffens as Grishnakh's breatheing shifts. He slowly as ever begins to move towards the foot of Grishnakh's bed, the stealth of many teacheings bearing with him. He looks down towards the bed end, then back up towards the sleeping body. Another step, just one more step, and suddenly, *CLANG!*, his foot had been misplaced! His mask had blinded him from well coordination, makeing him accidentally kick the shield at the foot of the bed. It collapses to the ground with all the sound accompanying. He snaps his look back up to the Vorazg in alarm.
Urgin grunts, his red eyes widening at the loud clatter of the shield hitting the stone floor. He grips his knife and looks to the Vorazg also.
Gurglflu raises hie spear, shakning his head slowly at Kurzka, waiting for the Vorazg to awake. He holds his spear ready to throw, muscles tensed.
There is a rustle of cloth and fur, all but drowned by the resounding echoes of the crashing shield, and a black blur of motion as all eyes are on the source of the terrific noise. Then a wet sound, and a choking sound.
Grishnakh crouches for an instant on the slab, his squat coarse body nude and black and scarred. One long arm is extended, and the black knife at the end of it is buried in Kurzka's throat.
Kurzka tries to shriek out in pain, his arms flail backwards. Without being able to do anything else, he sputters and falls to the ground, his knife flying through the air and collideing against the other wall as he convulses on the ground before finally dieing in his own blood.
Gurglflu let's out a small grunt, and hurls his spear with all his might at the Vorazg. It whistles through the air, aimed right at his heart.
Grishnakh turns his gaze downward, then, his eyes gleaming with a pale fire. He moves fluidly, and it seems almost slowly, but then he is low, and the spear flies past his shoulder and clatters into the far stony wall. He half-rolls back, and crouches on the other side of the bed-slab, glaring at the would-be assassins with a silent feral grin.
Urgin leaps further into the darkness, focusing on the black figure, though still mostly blind to the situation!
Gurglflu takes one look at the Vorazg, and shakes his head to himself, grinding his teeth together. WIth one last finall grunt, he abruptly turns around, sprinting out of the room.
Grishnakh watches one assassin run, for a moment, then turns his attention to the other. He moves quickly around the bed slab, crouching low, a low rumbling purr in his throat.
Urgin makes not a noise, stealthfully he estimates the position of the Vorazg, but fatally -underestimates- as he slams down, his dagger not meeting any resistance as he swings for the empty air.
Burgluk pulls open the heavy black door and steps out into the hallway.
Grishnakh reveals his own location clearly enough as he chuckles to himself, his voice soft and cruel, moving very close at the end: "You'd have done better to seek my instruction, not my death." Then with a swift stroke, the left artery in Urgin's throat is severed. It is only a small cut, but blood spurts from it.
Urgin gags as the blood flows freely from his throat, the knife falls to the ground, follow by the heavy -thump- of his lifeless body.
Grishnakh stands still over the fallen assassin for a moment, his breath steady and silent as he listens.
Burgluk pushes open the door and steps into the room from the hallway outside.
Urgin dies...
Burgluk comes sprinting into the room, gasping for breath. He takes in the two dead Uruks with wide eyes, then looks over at the Vorazg. " Master Vorazg! I heard grunting.. ANd.. ANd fightin'... DO you be okay?" Burgluk lopes over to the Newly dead Urgin, poking him with his spear.
Grishnakh turns his gaze toward the doorway, as he moves quickly to the bed. Grasping the bedding, he wipes his knife clean, then spares a sharp glance at the newly arrived Burgluk.
Grishnakh says, "Why would I be otherwise, eh? Surely not due to anything these amateurs might accomplish. Make yourself useful, shaman, and light the lantern."
Grishnakh sits on the bed and shrugs into leggings, then lifts a thick tunic over his head and pulls it into place.
Burgluk grunts. " Aye.. . It would.. AHh.. APpear you be okay. " Burgluk looks again at the dead bodys, shaking his head. " Somone be trying to kill ye? " He nods quickly to Grishnakh, running over to a lantern, and pulling out some flint. He holds the candle to the wall, dragging the flint accross, creating a spark. A small flame dances on the candle, and he holds it up to Grishnakh proudly.
Grishnakh hauls heavy boots onto his feet next, and reaches for his chainmail coat.
Grishnakh says, "Look at the corpses. Are there any marks on them?"
Burgluk bends down over Kurzak, examining the cloths. He holds the candle close, silently cursing in his head as he watches the lifeblood drain from the body. " Er.. No, sir. Just black."
Grishnakh lifts the chainmail onto his massive shoulders, and ties the straps into place.
Grishnakh moves closer, and moves the masks out of the dead orcs' faces.
Burgluk watches Grishnakh, his eyes widening as he takes the mask off.
Grishnakh slowly leans down, and slowly widens the closed eyelids of one corpse. Tattooed marks can be seen in the flickering light.
Grishnakh looks up at the shaman of the Burzum-Prakh, a cold smile growing in his hideous features. His eyes are bright.
Grishnakh says, "Burzum-Prakh."
Burgluk curses madly in his head once more, but gasps. " Burzum-Prakh!! They not be of m' tribe, Vorazg... Day used to be... I kicked dem out because day said dat you be a stupid weak Uruk! I told dem day could take their lies and go somewhere, else, sir!"
Grishnakh laughs softly. "They used to be? But the only way to leave the Burzum-Prakh is by death, is it not? Or have you grown more merciful in recent days?"
Burgluk thinks for a moment, scrunching his face up. " Well.. Uhh.. You see, I had.. Da new Logaz... Grinkar, i put him in charge of Killing dem after i sent dem away... Yeah.. As his first job..." A small bead of sweat runs down his face and drips onto the floor.
Grishnakh stands and moves toward the bed. He lifts his shield and scimitar.
Grishnakh says, "Come, shaman! Khurzurkum awaits. Slaves will bear the corpses."
Burgluk winces slightly as the VOrazg raises his weapon, then lets out a sigh of relief as it is lowered. He nods to him once, heading towards the door.
Burgluk pushes the door open, motiong for the Vorazg to go through.
Grishnakh stalks out of the room, barking an order at fearful slaves waiting nearby. They quickly move into the room to lift the corpses.
(A long walk through Dol Guldur follows.)
You push against a massive golden door, it slides open at the slightest touch, leading into...
Temple of Darkness
A grand cavern upheld by massive hexagonal basalt columns. Hundreds of heavy stone pews march away to the northeast to a great altar, a slab of black glass marked with the stains of sacrifice--iron chains and manacles dangle to either side. Sitting atop an upraised dias with curving stairs leading up to it from either side. In shadowy alcoves beyond the columns are basins of dark Unholy water, with stands upon which flicker tiny candle flames in red glass holders. The high valuted ceiling of the Temple, grimy with soot, has been rigged with a network of copper wires, connected to rods on the surface of Amon Lanc. Lightning striking the rods is carried to the Temple and leaps between gaps in the wires in an awe-inspiring display. Together with the flames, beating of manskin drums, winding of trumpets, and screams of the sacrifical victims, the ritual of Darkness is enough to have the humans and Orcs' hair standing on end and almost any outsider quaking in terror.
A long, dark corridor opens on the far end of the temple, dimly lit by bluish globes of light inset into the walls, while to the northeast behind the altar is a strange doorway--a giant stone eye with a hollowed out pupil revealing a dark corridor stretching a short ways back into pitch blackness.
Contents:
Obvious exits:
Burgluk opens the door quietly, slipping into the crowd of Uruks. He makes his way towards Karja, nodding to some of the Uruks who salute or bow their heads in respect fo rhte Shaman.
Grishnakh walks quickly through the massive gold doors, on the heels of the shaman of the Burzum-Prakh. A moment later, several orc slaves scurry through the doorway, bearing what can only be two black-clad orc bodies.
Rakerath turns his head slightly as Burgluk and Grishnakh enter the room. A crooked smile crosses his face as he sees the procession. The darkness around him seems to breathe of there on life, yet many Orcs beging to Crowd around there leader, bow to him, and then turn to face Grishnakh.
Grinkar looks to the Vorazg for a moment but his attention is quickly stolen as the slaves drag in the two dead bodies.
Grishnakh glances about at the massive assembly of orcs, eyes gleaming as with a pale hot fire. He bears a grotesque smile. Quickly, he walks toward the dais at the front of the Temple.
Karja looks up towards Burgluk as he spots him, in the same seat as he was fpr the Gurzgurzum, towards the front. He nods, then looks towards Grishnakh in a small surprised look emitting from his face briefly, is it because the Vorazg is late or some other strange element?
The crowd of Uruks seated around Guthmug suddenly grow silent and turn their heads towards the back of the room to stare at the Vorazg and the bodies being dragged behind him. Guthmug's dark eyes follow the crowd's gaze, and he watches the procession silently as the Vorazg makes his way to the front of the temple.
Grinkar drops open his crooked jaw at the strange sight. He shoves his way closer to the front, to better his curious view of the situation, with awe-struck eyes.
Grishnakh ascends a long curving staircase, walking to the top of the great dais that dominates the head of the Temple. The slaves follow.
DuRoch looks blearily back over his shoulder, red eyes dulled from pain. He sways a bit in his seat, blood following a stained path down his shoulder to his wrist in a crooked line.
Uglub stops burbling in pain from his wounds as the dark procession passes. He shrinks in his seat and absent-mindedly begins to chew on a claw.
Grishnakh stops, finally, as he walks to the front of the dais. He casts a silent gaze across the masses of orcs that throng in the darkness.
Burgluk walks slightly away from Karja, heading towards the Eldest Uruk, Rakerath. His face is blank other than a very small, almost non-existing smile. Even though it is small, it looks to be forced. Why could that be....?
Guthmug watches silently from his vantage point as the Vorazg and his slaves climb the curving stair case. He glances at DuRoch out of the corner of his eye and quietly says, "Steady there Dog... Don't think you'd want to miss this..."
Grishnakh smiles slightly again, his face colder than ever. When he speaks, it is a low, soft growl, almost a whisper, hardly heard beyond the first rows of orcs.
Karja licks his lips as he spots the two dead bodies being represented to the mass, a grin crossing his face. He says nothing to Burgluk, only beaming in delight at the death of others.. the pain of others. He looks down to his handless wrist, glares, then looks back up towards the two dead ones with a straight face.
DuRoch shakes his head drunkenly, a half-smile twisting his countenance. He turns back towards the front, following the procession with his eyes, bent almost double over his knees as a thin trail of drool hangs down from the corner of his mouth.
Grishnakh says, "Eldest Orc, Rakerath, please come to me. Likewise Burgluk, shaman of the Burzum-Prakh."
Rakerath looks to Grishnakh from his dark corner. His face bares the expression of bored tolerance. His evil eye only seeming to watch the Vorzag. He then sees Burgluk approaching him and turns his attention to his brother his face softens as he sees them. When he hears Grishnakh call he nods and begins heading toward Grishnakh expecting his Shaman to follow him.
Burgluk glances up at Rakerath, then to the Vorazg, before nodding once. He walks quickly towards Grishnakh, stepping around and over the many masses of Uruks.
Karja arches his eyebrow as he turns his head to spot Burgluk, shrugging as if he did not know what was going on. He looks back towards the Vorazg, pressing his lips together as if he were contemplateing something deep in his mind.
Grishnakh silently waits as Rakerath and Burgluk ascend the stairs, his pale bright eyes watching the crowd during the pause.
Guthmug leans forward on his seat, his eyes narrowing as he watches the scene at the front of the temple. He absently claws at the bench under him as he listens to the Vorazg speak.
Rakerath comes up the stairs to stand in front of the Vorzag. He then comes to a halt and bows lowly to the Vorzag respectfully, as diplomacy requires. He then looks back to the Vorzag, "I have come, chosen one of The Eye."
Uglub stirs and fidgets. His breath becomes laboured, whether from the thick atmosphere or from his wounds, he doesn't know. A nearby whispering snaga seems to be coming through water as all perceptions but what is on the dias fade a little.
Grinkar stands quietly and confused, watching the higher-ups.
Grishnakh turns to face Rakerath and nods, bowing, slightly, in return. "Eldest." He glances over to Burgluk, awaiting his approach.
Burgluk walks up the stairs, bowing as low as Rakerath before lifting himself back up to look at the Vorazg. " I am here, Master Vorazg."
Grishnakh says, "Rakarg." His face twists into a smile again. Then he looks at Rakerath. "Before we convene Khurzurkum, there is a matter to attend." He gestures toward the slaves bearing two corpses. They immediately haul the corpses up to a 'standing' position, their heads flopping forward. "These two, and one other, paid me a visit today. They bore knives and sought to give death. They failed. The other escaped."
Fauthmat growls, and shifts in his seat.
Grinkar squints hard to look at the pair of corpses that the snaga hold up in front of the massive group of orcs. He grunts, realizing he does not recognize the two, but he steps back, assuming the ones who are responsible. He looks to the others as if checking to see if anyone is staring at him.
Rakerath turns to look at the Body and his eye opens wide, and his black Onyx eye seems to glower with rage. He then turns back to the Vorazg and nods darkly to him, "I see, I would of course take care of them personally for this attack against the Arm of The Eye, but it seems you have taken care of that yourself. So Great one, why tell me of this? What do you wish of me?"
Burgluk frowns slightly, already knowing about the attempt, but not knowing one had escaped. He simply watches the Vorazg, trying to keep his face blank
Karja tilts his head in curioustity, right hand grabbing his left stub as if he had another hand to join with. He shifts in his seat, sighing again as he watches eagerly to see what becomes of the silent speaking. He ignores the two corpses held by the snaga, seeing enough of them.
Uglub shakes his head at the snaga near him asking him about the attempted assination. He is silent among the murmuring snagas.
Grishnakh smiles slightly as he continues. "I took a moment to inspect these amateurs. They bear the marks of the Burzum-Prakh. Burgluk here, shaman to that clan, said that he recognized the two, and that he had sent another to deal them death for insulting me."
Guthmug shifts his gaze to stare at the two corpses, his brow furrowing in thought at the sight. His mouth splits into an ugly sneer and glares at Burgluk as the Vorazg continues speaking.
Grishnakh glances out across the crowd again for a moment as he allows Rakerath to digest this information.
Burgluk nods his head vigourusly at Grishankh, glancing over to look at Grinkar.
DuRoch weaves a bit in his seat, growing unfocused.
Rakerath turns to Burgluk and his eyebrow cocks up. He looks to his Shaman with his burning gaze looking deep into his soul. The penetrating gaze never waivering. He says powerfully in his deep, dark, voice, "Speak of this, . . .Brother."
Grinkar looks to Burgluk, meeting his glance nervously.
Grishnakh's icy smile broadens as he looks to Burgluk.
Burgluk glances over at Rakerath, and nods slightly. " Aye, Well, like I be telling the Master Vorazg, Deese had been expelled from da tribe for Sayin' dat he be a Weak Uruk, and dat da EYe was not true in picking him out, and dat da Eye was weak also. I get mighty mad at dem, and kicked dem out of da tribe." Burgluk looks thhrough the crowd, pointing a finger at Grinkar. " I told him dat he be in charge of killin' dem off." Burgluk widen shis eyes at Grinkar, His left hand, un-noticed at his side, twitching a small bit.
Grishnakh, smiling, turns his gaze toward the crowd where Burgluk points. "Grinkar," he says, though Burgluk did not voice the name. "Grinkar of Lugburz, approach the dais."
DuRoch rubs his eyes blearily, almost falling back over the bench.
Grinkar looks to Burgluk solemnly and steps forward so that the Vorazg can notice him easily. He remains quiet as he is beckoned to the dais. He wobbles over and looks up to the Vorazg, curiously.
Grishnakh says, "Grinkar of Lugburz. Did you receive an order to kill these fools?"
Guthmug growls softly from his seat as Grinkar approaches the dais, his dark eyes narrow as he glares at the Uruk. With his left arm, he nudges DuRoch lightly in the ribs and points towards Grinkar.
Grishnakh gestures back toward the corpses, which slaves still prop up for viewing.
Karja turns his gaze to Grinkar, mechanically clearing his throat. His eyes study the small uruk in distaste, as he seems to view everything with this sour hatred.
Grinkar looks up and replies hesitantly, avoiding total eye contact with the uruk, "Ay, o' Vorazg." he stutters, "I be sent to kill dem, but dey had vanished before I could find dem." he explains with a shaky voice.
Grishnakh smiles. "I see. They vanished."
Grinkar nods as Grishnakh repeats what he had said, "Ey, dey vanished....."
Grishnakh says, "Grinkar, ascend to the dais. Stand with the corpses, and wait."
Karja chuckles audiblly to himself, shakeing his head as he watches the repetetive conversation. He takes control of this 'evil' chuckle, this mild laughter of hideiousness, and continues to watch with intrest.
Grishnakh half-turns and looks at Burgluk coldly. "Burgluk. You, too, shall wait with the corpses. Soon, I will ask the Eldest to decide your fate. Soon, but not yet."
Grinkar nods his dark head curtly and steps apon the dais, slowly making his way over to the two corpses of the assassins. His eyes leave the Vorazg and dart about the crowd of orcs.
Burgluk closes his eyes for a moment, then nods, walking over to join Grinkar.
Guthmug's sneer turns into a cruel, toothy grin as he stares at Grinkar from his seat.
Grishnakh turns to the assembly, and after a pause raises his voice slightly. "Khurzurkum is convened. The Blood of the Host. I seek an accounting from you, of your deeds in the sight of the Eye, and your service to your Dark Lord."
Rakerath raises his eyebrow at Burgluk's words and then turns his attention back to Grishnakh and then to Grinkar as he approaches the Dais. He nods darkly to Ghrishnakh as he proclaims that he should judge the fate of the two accused. He listens to Grishnakh speak
Grishnakh says, "Tek'rak Fauthmat, captain of Dol Guldur, approach!"
Uglub fingers a bright coin and narrows his eyes as the Tek'rak approaches the top of the dias.
Grishnakh spares a glance back toward Rakerath, nodding briefly, then watches for Fauthmat's approach.
Fauthmat stands, his mailed shoulders rocking up and down as he shuffles forward on bowed legs. Pausing at the foot of the diasis he drops to his knees, and presses his forehead to the stone floor. "Vorazg." he says simply as he rises.
Karja twitches his nose as the words 'Tek'rak' and 'Fauthmat' are sounded. He turns his head to eye Fauthmat, his face being kept a clean emotionless observation ing glance, though his eyes give away his jealousy.
Burgluk stands next to Grinkar, his hand twitching once more.
Grishnakh looks down at Fauthmat with narrow eyes. "Fauthmat, bring forth your chosen soldiers, one at a time."
Grinkar looks to Burgluk, notes his twitching, and gives a very slight nod to the shaman.
DuRoch ughs, looking forward, squinting and breathing a bit labored.
DuRoch oens his eyes in a bit of surprise as what's been said sinks in.
Burgluk nods his head back at Grinkar, as slightly as he did.
Fauthmat nods once to Grishnakh, and turns to face the assmbled Orcs. Slowly he looks over a few faces before he growls, "Snaga Uglub, Dog DuRoch, and Logaz Guthmug, present yourself to the Vorazg."
Grishnakh watches silently as the chosen orcs are called forward.
Guthmug turns his head sharply at Fauthmat's calling, his eyes widening ever so slightly. Rising to his feet, he works his way through the crowd of Uruks and stops a step behind Fauthmat, sinking to his knees and glancing up at the Vorazg.
Uglub snaps out of a painful dream as he hears his name. As things come into focus he finds his feet are moving him of their own accord toward the dias. He smiles to himself.
DuRoch shakes his head to clear it, muttering, and tenses, eyes becoming a bit more brighter as he struggles to maintain composure. He follows Guthmug up towards the dias, weaving a bit as he walks, slowly. One half-bloody footprint is left for every other step he takes.
Fauthmat nods once to the Orcs behind him before turning to face Grishnakh.
Uglub attempts to straighten up as he ascends the dias. Wounds are opened anew, but he succeeds. He stands slightly behind Guthmug and DuRoch and then bows, his head nearly touching the cold stone.
Grishnakh speaks finally, in a low, soft voice, as the three orcs bow below the dais. "Very well. Uglub, Snaga of Pulgorburz. Tell me how you served the Eye in the attack on Laketown. Did you seek to stem the shameful flow of soldiers as they fled from the elves and dwarves? Or were you very careful to preserve yourself when the black blood flowed? Speak!"
Rakerath steals the Scene for a minute and speaks out to the Populous, "The accused will come with me. For now they will be placed in holding for such an accusation as this will need much thought. With your permission Grishnakh, I will remove these from your presence.
Grishnakh looks back to Rakerath and nods. "Do so, Eldest."
Grishnakh turns his attention back down toward Uglub.
Grinkar swallows hard as they are refered to as the -accused-.
Rakerath bows lowly and respectfully to Grishnakh and looks to those behind him and says in his deep forboding voice, "Come with me."
Burgluk no Rakerath and the Vorazg, starting to head towards the Golden doors, nodding for Grinkar to stay in pace with the Eldest.
Rakerath steps down from the Dais taking the others with him he walks slowly to the Golden doors quietly. Without hesitation in his step. . .
Karja sighs to himself again as he watches the ceremony take place, the questioning, he stares off in front of him, becomeing more and more oblivious to his surroundings.
Uglub snaps his head upward and then involuntarily frowns, then blanks his expression. "Mighty Vorazg!" he barks "I desire only to serve the eye selflessly. I attacked the bear-man and dealt him a mighty blow at the first battle before he cowardly fled. At the final battle I threw myself at the enemy albai, then reluctantly retreated with the order. I fought the dwarves then left to scout ahead of the withdrwal and fought a mighty elf warrior.!"
Burgluk pushes lightly against one of the massive golden and it swings wide. It swings quietly shut after he enters.
Burgluk has left.
Grinkar pushes lightly against one of the massive golden and it swings wide. It swings quietly shut after he enters.
Grinkar has left.
Rakerath pushes lightly against one of the massive golden and it swings wide. It swings quietly shut after he enters.
Rakerath has left.
Grishnakh laughs softly. "You scouted ahead of the withdrawal, did you? In other words, you ran faster than the rest, when the chance came to escape."
Uglub begins to retort, then snaps his jaws shut for a moment. He bows slightly again and says quietly, "The order was given...I live only to serve."
Grishnakh's smile hardens a bit, but his voice remains soft. "Captain Fauthmat, what say you? Did this orc serve, or did he only take the best chance to run? What did he accomplish in his headlong flight from danger?"
Fauthmat growls, "He served well, as well as can be expected of most Orcs."
Grishnakh says, "I see." He looks down at Uglub again. "Then you tell me, Uglub: what did you accomplish in your flight? Did you spot any enemy ambushes, in time to find another path for the rest of our army as it ran for the woods?"
Uglub blinks sweat from his eyes. "Mighty Vorazg, Mighty Tek'rak, I had fought the dwarves and broken through their line only moments ahead of the main force. I was scouting! I found the enemy that I predicted might lay in wait and wounded her badly. She will not soon forget the day! She nearly slew DuRoch before she left. I, in my humble way, cleared the way for our wounded!"
DuRoch growls at the mention of the female elf that took advantage of his weakened state.
Grishnakh laughs softly again. "Good. Good. Fauthmat thinks you have some worth, Uglub, and he may be right. You at least have the brains to speak well even of a rout. Fauthmat, you will give this snaga the rank of Dog, that he may be recognized as a warrior among the armies of Mordor."
Fauthmat nods, "So it is, Vorazg." Turning his heavily helmed head to face Uglub he says, "Call yourself Dog, Uglub of the Ashjaki."
Rakerath steps out of a quitely opened massive gold door. Upon entering the door swings shut behind his.
Rakerath has arrived.
Uglub wipes the sweat from his forehead and exhales...finally. Bowing low again, "Mighty Vorazg, Exalted Tek'rak, I will fight for the Eye with every ounce of my pitiful being!"
Karja shifts in his seat, reaching his hand to grab a pouch off of his belt. He inspects the pouch up close to his eyes, then sets it down on his laHis right hand reaches its fingers inside the pouch, of which Karja proceeds to lick the white crystally contents from. He grimaces, then repeats the same procedure.
Grishnakh looks at the other two who were called, his pale bright eyes almost contemplative as he studies them. "DuRoch, warrior of Dol Guldur. You will speak. Tell your tale of the battle. What did you do to prevent the failure of our armies to subjugate the Men of Laketown?"
Rakerath returns from the outside of the Temple his head lowered and a sigh escapes from his lips. If one was to look in his face they would see a bizare look for an Orc. A look of Sadness a look of a trust that has been broken to pieces. He shakes his head one last time and steps out before the crowd head down as he awaits to be addressed by Grishnakh. Right now this Orc's years are obvious and one can tell that he is obviously old beyond years.
DuRoch wavers as he stands. Blinking through his feverish hase, he bows his head and speaks. "I was detained from the main battle by a small detatchment of the enemy coming to our rear. when I joined the main force, The Tek'Rak was engaged with one of the stunties... dwrves. It was a harsh fight as I joined the Tek'Rak in battle, letting him have full sway, of course. But the stuntie... he got some lucky shots in. I lost the Tek'Rak in the confusion of battle as many warriors sought to down the dwarf. None did. I was badly wounded. When the retreat sounded, I was ambushed by an elf, who delt me a near fatal wound. That is my small aprt in the battle, Vorgaz." DuRoch bows as he finishes his report.
Grishnakh allows the feverish orc to ramble until he is silent, then he looks at Rakerath, where the Eldest Orc waits before the others. "Eldest. What say you?"
Rakerath bows lowly to Grishnakh and says, "I have placed the two Orcs in a holding cell. To give me time to decide there fate. They came without a fight. Should such a thing be needed I plan a public performance of punishment."
Grishnakh nods briefly. "Very well, Eldest. I will await your consideration of the matter. We shall discuss it soon."
Rakerath nods darkly to Grishnakh, "As you wish. Do you wish anything further of me Great one?"
Grishnakh shakes his head slightly. "Not now, Eldest."
Rakerath bows lowly one last time to Grishnakh and sinks back into the Crowd and let's the Shadows overcome his form. He then places the rest of his attention on the precedings with a bored tolerant look.
Grishnakh nods and returns his attention to DuRoch.
Karja continues tolick the crystallic white powder from his fingers, paying little attention to the ceremony. He appears content.
Grishnakh says, "So. You were one of many orcs all attempting to fight a single dwarf, and you were badly wounded in the process."
DuRoch nods, wincing in pain.
Grishnakh says, "And how did this happen? Who was this mighty dwarf who overcame so many of our warriors?"
DuRoch looks cunfused, glancing to Fauthmat and then back to Grishnakh. "All I know is that it was one of the enemies of the Eye. And that's all a warrior needs to know."
Grishnakh grins tightly. "Yes. Well, after you faced this mighty dwarf, you next faced an elven woman. A maiden lost in the woods, whose rage was nearly your death."
DuRoch bows his head deeply. "This maiden wielded a spear that pushed through my with ease. She was lost only in that she did not know where the main battle was."
Grishnakh laughs softly to himself. He glances at Fauthmat. "Captain Fauthmat, is there anything of worth in this slug of a warrior, defeated by an outnumbered dwarf and a lost elven maid?"
Fauthmat snorts, his broad nostrills flaring, "He rallied to my call, he did. And to his credit he fought untill he was near death. And I suppose another credit is that he didnt die."
DuRoch begins to stifle a cough, hacking up black flegm and blood onto his hand.
Grishnakh looks back at DuRoch with a smile. "High praise! You didn't die, warrior! We honor you." His voice loses some of its sarcasm. "But you had the guts to rally and to fight on, and any warrior needs guts. Perhaps next time you will do better against our enemies... or perhaps you will have the guts to lead those who can help."
DuRoch bows, still hacking. "Thank you, powerful Vorgaz."
Grishnakh says, "Fauthmat, you will give this warrior the rank of Logaz. But see that he develops the strength to match any courage he may have."
Fauthmat nods to Grishnakh, "Logaz DuRoch, I am watching you."
Grishnakh says, "Know this, Logaz: if I hear again that you fell to the blade of a maiden or a dwarf, I will reconsider your rank, and less generously than I consider it now."
DuRoch doubles over, still coughing. "I -will*hack* make you proud...Tek'Rak!"
DuRoch says, "Yes Vorgaz!"
Grishnakh sneers. "Clearly." He turns his cold gaze to Guthmug. "Logaz Guthmug. Speak of the battle and your deeds."
Karja chuckles to himself, looking up from his powder filled pouch towards the scene of the evaluations towards the front of the room. He coughs to himself, looking back down at his pouch. He decides to tighten its string, closeing it, by useing his right hand to pull the string up and flop the bag around until its weight has tightened its fastener. He tucks this away and continues to watch, with less intrest than before during the controversy of the assassins.
Guthmug takes a deep breath and looks up at Grishnakh, speaking slowly in a loud voice, "Vorazg, during the assault on lake-town, I was with the first wave of Uruks that crossed the lake's chill waters. I fought hard against the humans and albai, killing and wounding several before the filthy dwarves appeared on our flanks. I returned to help the Tek'Rak Fauthmat keep the dwarves from encircling our Mordain warriors, leading a small group of Ashjaki Dog against a group of the filthy longbeards. I fought as well as I could, even after receiving many wounds, until the retreat was called. Bleeding and disoriented, I came upon DuRoch as he fought the albai, and helped carry his fallen body while the cursed elf was chased away by our warriors." As he finishes speaking, he lowers his head and locks his gaze on the ground before him as he awaits the Vorazg's response.
Grishnakh nods slowly as he listens to Guthmug's tale. Finally, he looks at Fauthmat, and asks in a low voice: "Captain, does this tale contain any truth?"
Fauthmat growls, "Aye, it does. The Logaz Guthmug and his lads were a thorn digging into the enemy's side. And it was Uruk like him that kept the beach from being taken by the filthy gazat. Uruks like him, under my command, of course."
Grishnakh looks down at Guthmug again, his pale eyes gleaming. "Ah. Tell me, Guthmug, when you fought on Laketown itself, how did you know to rush back to the aid of your clan?"
Guthmug lifts his head to look at the Vorazg, clearing his throat before replying, "Many of our Uruks by the shore saw the battle across the waters, and called to return and help the Tek'Rak. I also saw that our warriors had stopped pouring to our aid on lake-town and made my way to the rafts to see what was happening, Vorazg."
Grishnakh nods slowly. "I see. And how did you get your troops off of Laketown again, when so many dwarves and elves had come?"
Guthmug takes a deep breath before continuing, "As I said Vorazg, I was able to return only with a small group using one of the rafts we still had control of. The Tek'Rak's troops were still holding the beach against the filthy dwarves when I returned."
Grishnakh says, "Yes. I see." He look out among the assembled orcs. His voice is still steady, low, quiet. "Orcs of Mordor, assembled here in Khurzurkum, pay heed. This orc fought well, bravely and with brains. If more of you did likewise, the Dark Lord would not wait impatiently for our failures to become victories." His gaze seems to find Karja for an instant--or perhaps not--with a chill smile. "Guthmug, I name you RAKARG, Lieutenant of Dol Guldur. Serve your captain and your Dark Lord well."
Karja looks down immediately as he thinks he senses the Vorazg mock-gazeing at him. He sighs, then looks back up with a colder face than before. He stays silent, not congratulating or shameing any of the recognized. He pats his knee impatiently.
Fauthmat remains silent, noding, a slight smile upon his lips.
Guthmug bows deeply, taking another deep breath before saying, "I will serve the Eye as well as I can, Vorazg."
Grishnakh looks out over the assembly once more. "As the messenger of the Dark Lord, and trusted servant of Lugburz, I hereby release you all from Khurzurkum. But know this: the Great Eye is ever upon you. Soon, He will regard you with less mercy and favor than today."
Grishnakh says, "Your commanders have received your orders. Follow them well."
DuRoch bows, still stifling his coughs.
Uglub raises his fist in salute, his eyes straight ahead. "Yes Vorazg!"
Fauthmat drops to one knee, bowing his head before Grishnakh. A low growl escapes his lips, "You will not be disapointed again."
Karja twitches his nose and stands from his seat, reacheing his arms out long extending from his shoulders. He yawns, and turns from the temple, marcheing away from the crowds and out the massive gold doors.
Karja pushes lightly against one of the massive golden and it swings wide. It swings quietly shut after he enters.
Karja has left.
Uglub mimics Fauthmat's bow. He drops on one knee.
DuRoch falls face forward. He has passed out from his fever.
Grishnakh watches the orcs for another moment, then steps back, and turns for the stairway. The slaves behind him follow closely, bearing the corpses still.
Heavy Black Door
Burgluk
Karja
Grinkar
Uglub
Guthmug
DuRoch
Rakerath
Fauthmat
Bloody Gong
Glass Doors
Pupil of The Eye
Massive Gold Doors