The End of the Tribes

Plateau of Gorgoroth
Along the Morgai in an Encampment.

You stand amid an encampment of Orcs. A layer of filth covers the ground; bits of broken bones, scraps of broken armor, or ripped leather. A very large Uruk commander marches about, whipping his troops. Discipline is high, morale is low and the smell of war is in the air.
Here, at the foot of the Morgai, a rough path winds up the tumbled face.

Contents:
Grishnakh
Glurg'erg
Guthmug
Uglub
Skargash
Gulgor
Large Tent
Flat Cart
Uruk-hide tent
Uruk Camp
Obvious exits:
Up the Morgai, North, South, and East

Grishnakh paces slowly back and forth on the perimeter of camp, watching the orcs as they prepare for another day's march through the barren stones of Gorgoroth.

Grishnakh watches Skargash for a time, observing the orcs of Minas Morgul and those bearing the flame-marks of the Zaghbuurz clan.

Glurg'erg throws the flap of his tent aside, steping out of the tent briskly. A small smile hovers about his lips as he makes his way through the camp, getting ready to stir up the armies of Mordor to march.

Burbles in misery. As his feignt failed and his shoulder bash failed to connect Guthmug's axe tore through leather armour and cut deep into Uglub's side. An iron stud, caught by the axe, protrudes from the black wound and points to the sky as Uglub, fallen, examines himself dizzily. He scoots back, reaching for his axe and dragging his shield. "Mercy, mighty Tek'Rak" he seethes "I have been at fault."

Gulgor walks away from the sparring, his amusement ended. He walks through the camp, eyeing the other uruks. Passing a small group of snaga, he walks over to them.

Skargash scowls at the zagh taking down a tent, "Gah, I've seen ashjaki work faster than that....

Grishnakh continues to pace, and turns his attention to Guthmug, Uglub, and the other orcs of Mirkwood, those bearing the flaming scimitar of the Ashjaki and the wolf-pelts of the Ujakalsaki.

Grishnakh soon slows his pace, though, and watches the orcs thoughtfully.

Gulgor grunts and turns from his talk, walking back towards Guthmug and the others, having little else to tend to at the moment.

Guthmug steps swiftly away from the falling Logaz, his axe rising defensively before him. He pauses for a moment as he glances down at Uglub and his heavy side wound, his eyes widening in astonishment. Shaking his head slowly, he lowers his axe and steps forward to examine the Uruk further. Turning his head towards some nearby spectators, he yells, "Someone bring this one some wine! He deserves it after that little spar!"

Grishnakh spots an orc (Gulgor) walking not far away, toward the Guldur-orcs. The Vorazg speaks: "Snaga. I have an assignment for you."

Uglub removes his shield and tries to stop the wound with his hands. The black efluvium oozes from between his fingers and flows down to make a growing puddle. He avoids Guthmug's gaze as he says "Thank you mighty Tek'Rak for correcting my impudence."

One of the slack-jawed snaga spectators rushes off towards the supply cart at the Tek'Rak's orders, his arms waving frantically over his head as he shouts, "Wine for da Logaz! Bring wine for the Logaz!"

Gulgor turns to the Vorazg, showing no expression at the slight insult, nor any emotion. "Yours to command, Mighty one."

Uglub slides his forearm out of the spiked shields grips and slings it onto his back.

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

Uglub unwields Fire-blackened axe.

Grishnakh gestures vaguely out across the camp. "Bring to me the lieutenants that are leading the troops, Snaga."

Gulgor nods and salutes, and turning, jogs towards Guthmug first, his step full of purpose and with a slight air of command.

Glurg'erg hears Guthmug's call, and reaches down to where a Fromer Dratul is drowning himself in wine, to cover the humiliation at being demoted to Logaz. He backhands the Logaz accross the jaw, grabbing up the wine, then starts to jog over towards Uglub and Guthmug. He takes a long swig of the wine himself, a small blood red bit of the liquid running down his chin and onto his armor, before handing it over to Guthmug. " There ye are, Tek'rak.

Guthmug's broad smirk disappears as he inspects the wound, he shakes his head slowly and says, "See to it you are properly patched up, Logaz. No use spilling your guts all over the floor now..." He stands straight and steps back, turning his head towards Glurg'erg and nodding as he takes the wine. Raising it to his lips, he takes a long drink before offering it to Uglub.

Grishnakh nods as Gulgor jogs off, then waits quietly with his hands on his shield and sword-hilt. His massive head turns slowly, taking in the orcs of the camp.

The wine carrying snaga returns, a wineskin in his arms. He glances up at the officers and down at the wounded Logaz before nervously saying, "Eh, who want wine?"

A tall and lanky Uruk stands before you, bow-legged and bandy-armed. He wears a worn leather jerkin with ribbed metal plates, and is wrapped in a ratty cloak. He appears to be unarmed except for the curved knife at his belt, and his long fangs.

Uglub accepts the wine and drains the rest of the skin in large gulps, then lets it fall on the ground. He grips the strip of iron protruding from the wound and grimaces as he pulls it out. It scrapes against a rib and then is free. Uglub holds the strip up, and examines it with bleary eyes before vomiting and passing out.

Guthmug glances down at the wine-bearing, late-arriving snaga, his dark eyes narrowing as he barks out, "You're too slow, snaga! Now take it back, and don't even THINK about sneaking it for yourself! I know EVERYTHING that happens around the camp..."

Gulgor trots up to Guthmug, and gives a salute, waiting to be recognized.

Glurg'erg watches as the Uruks drain the wine skin, then shrugs, and turns around, jogging off towards the Vorazg. His steps take him in the general direction of the Vorazg, although he seems to be heading towards a very large looking Uruk with an axe, his fist raised and about to start beating on another large looking Uruk.

Guthmug turns to look at Gulgor, quickly returning the salute. "What is it-" He trails off as he notices the Logaz collapse to the ground. With a loud groan, he yells, "Someone pick up the Logaz! It's no good leaving him bleeding on the ground there!" Turning back to Gulgor, he says, "What is it, Dog?"

Skargash satisfied the logaz are doing their jobs turns and looks back into the main camp, gaze sweeping across the field watching the other Uruks.....

Gulgor nods and grunts, "The Vorazg asked all the lieutenants to come to him, I bring you the news first off." He steps back, his message ended, but still awaiting to be released to continue to the other officers....

Glurg'erg steps behind the Uruk with the raised hand, and grabs the big things fist, growling in a deep voice. " There be no brawling in camp, Maggot. If ye wanna stir up some fightin', then go find some Albai." He quickly dashes to the side of the large Urukkicking his foot into the back of the Uruks knees. The large beast falls backwards onto the ground as Glurg starts to walk towards the Vorazg, his arms swinging with the pace of his walk.

Gulgor turns, and having reported to his own Tek'Rak first, gathers together a group of snaga, and sends them scurrying across camp, to give the message to others. He leaves the more important officers to himself though, and soon the message is spread...

Guthmug nods to Gulgor and turns away, hurriedly scanning the camp for the Grishnakh's figure. Finding him among the crowd, he starts swiftly forward, his short legs carrying him swiftly through the crowded camp towards the Vorazg.

Grishnakh still waits calmly at the perimeter of the camp, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword while the other rests on his shield, which stands on the ground before him.

Glurg'erg waves off a lone Snaga who runs up to him, babbling about going to the Vorazg. He soon arrives, pushing his way through a small group of Tek'rak, to get to the front of the crowd. He folds his arms accross his chest, waiting for all the others to join.

Skargash virtually ignores the snaga speaking to him but apparenty listens enough to hear the call and slowly strides across the camp towards the vorazg.

Grishnakh waits for a few minutes as the officers arrive, looking them over as they appear. His gaze is intense, scrutinizing each orc in turn.

Guthmug hurries his pace as he nears Grishnakh, stopping beside Glurg'erg and raising his arm in salute to the Vorazg.

Gulgor heads towards the line-ups...his rounds finished. He takes a new place in line, among the other Dog, his fists knotted by his sides as he perpares for any to rebuke his right.

Skargash reaching the vorazg simply stops and waits staring impassivly at the vorazg while all but ignoring the goings on around him...

Grishnakh nods slowly, finally, to the assembled orcs. First he regards Guthmug. "Lieutenant Guthmug. Tell me: How loyal are you to the Ashjaki clan?"

Guthmug raises his head to return Grishnakh's gaze, his own dark eyes wide in awe. Clearing his throat, he replies, "My loyalty to the Ashjaki clan is second only to my loyalty towards the Eye, Vorazg."

Grishnakh smiles, his pale eyes twinkling slightly in his black twisted face. "Oho, very good. And if I told you to kill the Ashjaki shaman and spit on their holy scimitar, what would you say?"

Glurg'erg raises an eyebrow slightly, seeming to remeber a similar conversation. He moves his hands from accross his chest, to clasped behind his back, his legs shoulder width apart.

Guthmug frowns darkly, his expression showing obvious suspicion. "Vorazg, if you commanded it, I would do so. The honor of the my tribe is nothing to the glory of the Eye."

Grishnakh nods slowly, thoughtfully. "We will see. We will see, and soon. Because as of now, the Ashjaki are no more."

Glurg'erg's eyes widen, and his jaw drops at the sudden proclomation. He quickly closes his mouth, and begins to think of why the Vorazg could be doing this.

Guthmug reels back a step as if struck by a physical blow, his jaw drops and his eyes widen in extreme shock. He blinks twice and drops his gaze to the ground before him, unable to answer for a moment

Gulgor grunts in dismay from the back of the ranks, staggered by the sudden supplantion. He looks around dazedly, his shell cracked for the first time in his life...

Grishnakh watches Guthmug, his face still twisted into a smile. "That's right," he says softly. "Think on it well, and understand. The Ashjaki are no more."

Glurg'erg shrugs slightly to himself, mentally ticking off some things in his brain, as the Ashjaki is no More. A small smile splits his face, and he waits to listen for any further information from the Vorazg.

Grishnakh stands in a small cluster of high-ranking orcs, all of rank lieutenant and above. Not far off, other orcs try to listen, while the rest go about the duties of striking camp and preparing for the march.

Guthmug glances up at Grishnakh and nods stupidly, his eyes still wide and his jaw slack from the shock.

Grishnakh, apparently satisfied with Guthmug's reaction, turns to Skargash. "Lieutenant Skargash. You are high within the Zaghbuurz clan, which has long been a powerful force among the orcs of Minas Morgul, no?"

Skargash looks at Grishnakh and thinks shortly before responding, "Yes, We have long been a willing hand of the Eye and through our devotion have risen to respect....

Glurg'erg's mind starts to click sharply, as thoughts start to rush through his head. He eyes widen, and he grimaces slightly, awaiting for somthing he fears will happen.

Grishnakh says, "Of course. Of course. Nothing ever was done in the name of a great tribe to reduce the glory of the Eye." His voice grows sarcastic for a moment, then hardens. "No matter. As Vorazg, the chosen captain to lead the orcs of Mordor, I decree: your clan, too, is no more. In Minas Morgul, there will be orcs of Minas Morgul. There will be no orcs of the Zaghbuurz."

Glurg'erg's mouth tightens slightly, and he lets out a small sigh.

Skargash sits silent for a good 10 to 15 seconds before slowly at first responding somewhat quietly.... "In recognition of your obvious favor to the eye I heed your command...Do you wish the Sacred flame to be doused along with the tribe's dissapearance..."

Grishnakh frowns slightly. "Need you ask the question? The clan is no more. If a symbol remains, if a spark burns in its honor, I will scrub it out myself, and flay the fool who keeps it."

Guthmug remains silent, his wide eyed gaze on Grishnakh. His hand rises to absently scratch the side of his chin, and his brow furrows as he ponders the Vorazg's words.

Skargash nods absently, "Yes, though I fear the high shaman shall have to be slain before he will allow it...

Grishnakh says, "And if another orc refuses to obey my order, what would you expect his punishment to be? If your shaman refuses to 'allow' it, then you will kill him."

Skargash simply nods and mutters under his breath...

Grishnakh turns to Glurg'erg, finally. He smiles again, and speaks softly. "And Lieutenant Glurg'erg, of the Burzum-Prakh. Your tribe has earned much of my attention. And they will not escape my attention now. But tell me, Glurg'erg: will I simply need to kill you all in order to stamp out the last traces of your tribe?"

Skargash +whispers to himself, "... repay ... ... ... ... ... ... ... with a ... death..."

Guthmug casts Glurg'erg a sidelong glance, his eyes narrowing as he finally seems to regain his wits.

Gulgor turns his gaze to a nearby snaga (Snar), having regained his calm, he mutters as he watches the officers. "You just hear what I think I heard?" Grunting, he turns his head to give the snaga half his attention.

Glurg'erg raises an eyebrow, already suspecting this from the time when the Vorazg spoke to Guthmug. "Er, Yes, Well.. You be not needin' to do that, Mighty Vorazg. LIke I be saying before, I be in charge of the Burzum-pra-" He stops in mid sentance, then let's out a breath. "Yes, Well, when da BP waz a tribe, Burgluk da blind fool be da one, who be stirrin' up troubles. I be faithful to da eye, and naught else. " He bows his head slightly, his hands still clasped behind his back, his stance confident.

Snar turns to the larger Uruk and grunts his agreement. "I never like these tribes."

Grishnakh nods and laughs softly. "Good. Well, we shall see." He gives Skargash a brief, hard glance. "Now, all of you. Clear your heads of confusion, and listen."

Gulgor grunts, and waves his hand to interrupt the snaga, "Quiet Maggot! He speaks some more!"

Grishnakh says, "As I have spoken, your tribes and clans are no more. They will not be recognized by servants of the Eye. They will not be spoken of. They will not be sung, and if you are wise they will not even be remembered. You are soldiers of Mordor, and that is all."

Guthmug takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and glances up at Grishnakh, his eyes intent on the Vorazg.

Glurg'erg stands in much the same stance he has since the begining, hiding any feelings towards the descisions of the Vorazg.

Snar cowers down as Gulgor waves his lanky arm.

Grishnakh looks the officers over for a second. "That is ALL. What symbols you wear: remove them. Tattoos and marks: mark over them or burn them away! We will see nothing more of the tribes. We will hear nothing more of them. And the next time that I am given cause to THINK about one of the tribes, a bloodletting will follow. Do you understand?"

Glurg'erg continues to simply stand, looking at Grishnakh with a blank expression. He seems to be less confused and dazed than both Skargash and Guthmug.

Glurg'erg nods his head slowly, fingering the tattoes on his eyelids.

Grishnakh says, "Well?"

Guthmug ponders the Vorazg's words silently for a moment before raising his hand up in salute and barking out, "I understand, Vorazg! I will begin to cleanse the army immediately!"

Skargash holding his impassive gaze on grishnakh simply says, "Yes."

Glurg'erg shouts out loudly, "Yes VORAZG!"

Grishnakh nods slowly. "Very good," he says, his voice nearly a low purr. "Then you are dismissed, to carry out these, my decrees."

Guthmug nods his head once and turns sharply away from Grishnakh, starting hurriedly towards his tent. He frowns and glares angrily at any Uruks he passes by, his right hand falling to rest on the axehead at his belt.

Skargash turns abruptly and walks back towards the zagh encampment and dissapears into his tent briefly....then emerges again and begins talking to several of his logaz....

Gulgor stands where he is as the officers turn away, his calculating gaze on the Vorazg, as if he is trying to unmuddle hs thoughts by staring at Grishnakh. Sighing, he looks to the ground, to continue his pondering.

Grishnakh watches the orcs file away. His gaze seems to linger longest on Skargash's back, but then it drifts to the other orcs nearby, gauging, assessing.