A tale of an Orc

Pull out your pack and head on down to the Prancing Pony for some great Role Playing (try to stay in character)!

Postby Klonkku » Fri Sep 20, 2002 4:20 am

The beautiful, shiny moon was looming in the dark sky, accompanied with a hand-full of bright stars and few dimmer ones. Heavy clouds were lingering about the horizon, as the band of Orcs progressed through the hard terrain. Two painful hours had already passed, and about half a dozen more were still ahead. The only sounds allowed were the clashing of the old, rusty armours, stomping of the feet and cold, sharp snap of the whip. One whisper of a word, and punishment was on its way. This was the life of an Orc, and this had been the life of an Orc. But will it be?<BR><BR>Gorbnak, mere an ant in the nest, one of a million, a mass-produced creature, whom had made an oath to serve Mordor and Mordor alone throughout his short life as a slave, ran with the group of about two hundred. He had, unlike most of the orcs, an actual dream within his tough, badly burned and gruesome head. A dream which kept him alive. He had seen enough running, he had felt enough whip-lashes, he had experienced more than his share of torture. Suddenly he grabbed his sword, and pierced the closest orc. The whole group seemed to seize - the moment lasted for a small forever. Moon turned pale, while clouds hurried to cover the scene from the innocence of the stars.<BR><BR>It didn't take long for the group to strike Gorbnak down, tie him up and transport him to his slow death; but the move he made; the bravery he showed and the thoughts he had, all survived. He started something unchangeable..<BR><BR>-----<BR><BR>And so begins A Tale of an Orc...<BR><BR>( see the OOC for more details )
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Postby *Hryveriel* » Thu Jul 24, 2003 3:42 pm

bump...i am sure that this thread may have been dead for a while, but i like the sound of it. sounds cool. when i find the OOC i'll post my bio. if i don't come back for some time, e-amil me. I tend to loose track of the RPs im in. ttyl<BR>thanx,<BR>Hryveriel(Hry)
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Postby Key_Blade » Thu Jul 24, 2003 9:17 pm

((ooc: we're ba-ack!))<BR><BR>Berrez looked on at the road before him. The sea breeze caused his short hair to whip about, his almost serpentlike green eyes bright with anticipation. <BR><BR>"Ya sure you're gonna go through with this?" he looked over at his best friend, Karl. <BR><BR>"Yeah. We've always known I never belonged here." His friend waved at him.<BR><BR>"See ya round then. And don't forget to write!" Berrez chuckled.<BR><BR>"Right." He sighed as rode off into the distance.<BR><BR>"-kid. Hey kid!" Berrez jerked upward to find himself in a small tavern. He threw the bartender a glare.<BR><BR>"That's Illuser to you," the bartender opened his mouth to say something but shut it tight when he realized this 'kid' was a ranger. Berrez looked around again. Had he fell asleep at a table? The bartender threw his knapsack into his lap and shoved him toward the door. <BR><BR>"Orcs are a comin'. Best get out of here before they set the village ablaze!" Berrez ran from the tavern. By the direction of the people running, he could see where the orcs were coming from. The half-youkai started against the flow. Right outside to the left of the village stood a small grouping of trees. He ran and jumped behind some boulders and crept foward for a closer look. <BR><BR>"Far bein' a traitor! This scum who thinks himself orc enough to 'ave us call 'im Gorbnak, shall be immediately executed!" A roar was taken up by the mass of mutilated bodies. <BR><BR>Berrez grimaced as he witnessed the orc gutted and then beheaded. As they started to move toward the town, Berrez climbed down but slipped on some false footing, allowing him to land right in front of the leader. He felt a slimy gloved hand around his neck as he was brought up eye level with the leader. He shouted something uncomprehensible to Berrez's ears, then he was taken by the arms by two others. <BR><BR>His sword was out in an instant, easily cutting through his two captors. He suddenly felt a blow to the back of his head and fell over unconsious. Another orc slung him over his shoulder, his sandy hair being mixed with a scarlet liquid running from where he had been hit.
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Postby ThreadStalker » Sat Jul 26, 2003 8:59 am

This thread has been moved from the Green Dragon as it was much more appropriate to this forum.<BR><BR>This thread was started some time ago and the original poster might not have an interest in taking it up again, then on the other hand he might if he sees it again in the proper forum. you are welcome to continue it if he does not want to start it up again, HOWEVER, I remind you that the guidelines and standards set for the Pony (which are the same for the Dragon by the way) will be upheld and this thread as it stands is borderline with way too many too short posts.<BR><BR>A new start is a new start and this thread has one if any one wants to continue it.
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Postby *Hryveriel* » Sat Jul 26, 2003 9:10 am

(OOC:THanx SOOOOOOO much TS. now is the OOC around here somewere?)
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Postby ThreadStalker » Sat Jul 26, 2003 9:17 am

The OOC was left in the Dragon. Start a new one here if the thread will continue. If it should continue ( and meets the standards and guidelines set for this fourm) I will remove this questiona and response at a later date.
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Postby SilmarilSeeker » Mon Jul 28, 2003 4:19 pm

As Berrez fell in front of the Orc captain, two cloaked figures sat in a tree and watched.<BR><BR>"Graceless human oaf." One of them commented, rolling her eyes as the Ranger was whacked on the back of the head and sent reeling into unconsciousness.<BR><BR>The other merely sighed and shook his head. "He is a mere child, Saurvingiel."<BR><BR>The Orcs started towards the town as the pair jumped down from the tree, Saurvingiel unclasping her cloak, sweeping back the hood and throwing it to the ground.<BR><BR>Dinendal followed, albeit a bit more hesitantly. They were both blonde, after the manner of the Galadhrim, but Dinendal's hair fell to midback, while Saurvingiel's was cropped rather unevenly at her shoulders.<BR><BR>"If he is a child..." The Elf started while taking her bow into hand and readying herself for the upcoming confrontation. "...then what is he doing so close to Mordor?"<BR><BR>Dinendal sighed. "Probably the same thing you are..."<BR><BR>"I don't share common goals with people who can't remember the last time they've had a bath."<BR><BR>"You don't even <i>know</i> him and you dislike him. You have serious emotional issues."<BR><BR>"And you, my dear Dinendal, have serious mental issues."<BR><BR>While arguing they hid themselves in the shadows while the Orcs headed towards the town, presumably to burn the small encampment to the ground.<BR><BR>"We follow them around, try to control the fires as best as possible, then pick them off one by one."<BR><BR>Dinendal nods, agreeing with their battle plan. There were simply too many Orcs for an open confrontation, and even now he was unsure that either of them might make it out of this foolishness alive.<BR><BR>"Then we're going after that Ranger."<BR><BR>Saurvingiel was brought up short by this statement, normally impish blue eyes narrowing dangerously. "Why?"<BR><BR>"Do you want him to be eaten by the Orcs?"<BR><BR>"Ah, yes, the only beings on Ennor more unwashed than Rangers."<BR><BR>"I'm being serious."<BR><BR>She sighed, looking up at him and folding her arms. "You always make me go off on some goodwill mission...last time it was that hobbit stuck in a ditch, remember? You made me dress up as a human, then go along and get him out!"<BR><BR>The issue decided, they continued to make their way through the town, bickering all the while.
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Postby Key_Blade » Mon Jul 28, 2003 7:57 pm

Berrez awoke from his daze with his hands and feet bound and his eyes covered. Obviously the orcs had settled in for the night. He could hear random chitchat coming off from the far right of him. A sudden rustle in the nearby bushes caught his attention. Someone was coming. An hand suddenly grabbed his arm and lifted him off the ground. <BR><BR>"What should we do with this kid." He heard a few grumbles, a couple of "lets eat him" and some more groans.<BR><BR>"Leave him be. Lady Erisu has asked that we bring him to her unharmed. She said it had to do with his power, or whatever it be." With the speaker unaware of his slip, Berrez remembered what he was talking about. Of course, being half Earth yokai, he had some control over the earth. If only he could get back on- suddenly the hand dropped him.<BR><BR>"Oof!" Berrez wasted no time. Immediately he rolled over and dug his hand into the ground. Deep earth-shaking pulses began to emmit from his hand. The orcs were in a sudden state of panic. The slight pulses turned to tremors that led to chaos from the orcs. <BR><BR>Leaving the tremors to deal with themselves, he promptly stood up, only to feel something peirce his side and be trampled again. Berrez then felt to arms pick him up and carry him a small distance. As he was set down, he could feel warm liquid trickle down from his side. The bandana was taken off and he then felt a sudden dizziness. He realed back, the last thing he saw were stars above.
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Postby Elfin_Jedi77@yahoo.com » Mon Jul 28, 2003 8:08 pm

Erisu looked out over the open window, her mirror-like eyes reflecting the activity below. From the highest tower of Barad-Dur, where the Great Eye itself rested, stood a white-haired figure her hand over a small palantir. The Eye spoke to her through her mind.<BR><BR>"No, he has not arrived yet," she answered apathetically, "something is holding them back." She crept into the lower levels of the great tower. She donnd a silver and black gown along with a silk black robe. She placed the hood over her head, making her seem more like a young country girl than the advisor to the Lord Sauron. She headed to the upper station stables, her black horse Tetheus awaiting her. She seated herself on the black and silver saddle and turned to the orc officer. <BR><BR>"I will be checking orc station 14697. The group of orcs sent out were last seen closest to there. Expect me back in at least two weeks."<BR><BR>With that, she trotted down the stretch of bridge and walk way until she came to the dirt road. From then on, she and her horse were flying with the wind.<BR><BR>((ooc: yeah I know it's really short but I'm having really bad writer's block))
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Postby Aiwe » Tue Jul 29, 2003 12:08 pm

Ngwaw slouched in the shadows made by the eaves of an inn. He seemed to be staring fixedly at the ground in front of him, but in fact he was straining to hear the conversation, if you could call it that, going on between the young man and the orcs nearby. Orcs! What on earth were they doing here, so far West? At least it didn't seem like they were after him. All they wanted was the usual afternoon bloodshed with a side of pillaging, along with this sandy-haired boy who smelled strongly of magic. Leave it to Sauron to ruin everybody's day. The boy would end up a minion whether he wanted it or not. As for Ngwaw, he finally thought he'd found a town where his Mordor accent only caused a bit of comment, instead of pitchforks and mobs with torches and silver knives. They <i>knew</i> how to deal with werewolves on the Eastern side of the Anduin. Time to move on, move away. Again. But deep down, he felt sorry for the boy. <i> There's nothing you can do,/I] he told himself , but not all of his heart believed the words.<BR><BR>He'd though about shifting to his wolf form so he could retreat and listen from a safer vantage point, but he figured that looking human in a town full of humans would be the less-conspicuous option, even if he did have yellow eyes. <BR><BR>There was a sudden pause in the conversation, and then the earth beneath Ngwaw's feet began to tremble violently. His nose was assaulted with the smell of surging earth magic--rich and earthy, sharp and metallic. A chunk of the inn's turf roof fell to his right. <i>Time to move on, I think!</i> He bolted into the street just as an integral-looking beam in the inn's roof began to creak ominously.<BR><BR>In the intrusive scent-cloud of earth magic he detected another smell: elves. He ran clumsily down the shaking dirt-paved street and rounded a corner, knocking into the shoulder of the source of the elf-scent in his haste. <i>"Pardon--excuse me!"</i> he put on an extra burst of speed, but too late. One of the elves, the one with the shorter hair, latched onto his arm with an uncompromising grip. She slammed him face-first into the wooden wall of a carpenter's shop, twisting both of his arms behind his back. <BR><BR><i>"What did you just say to me?"</i> said a voice full of silver and ice. Ngwaw realized too late that, having spent so long listening to the Black Speech spoken by the invading orcs, he'd accidentally slipped into his native tongue when trying to apologise to the elf he'd knocked into.<BR><BR>--Aiwe<BR><BR><b><u>Edit: More stuff was added to the top paragraph, just to let you know.</u></b>
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Postby SilmarilSeeker » Tue Jul 29, 2003 4:10 pm

After Saurvingiel slammed the offending townsperson into the wall, Dinendal was not slow to follow. He'd had to deal with his charge's temper before, and he didn't feel like helping her hide a body again.<BR><BR>"He was apologizing, Saurvingiel."<BR><BR>The shock that radiated from the smaller Elf at this statement was almost palpable, as she dropped the stranger, backing away from both men. Her eyes widened slightly, muscles tensing a bit more than absolutely necessary. She'd had to deal with inside sources before and wouldn't hesitate to do so again...Dinendal decided to not dwell upon his possible fate, stretching one hand towards her in a calming gesture. <BR><BR>"How...how do you know that?"<BR><BR>A voice cold with fear and betrayal, while on the inside she chastised herself. <i>You're losing control, weakling...They were taken a long time ago. You got over it. So stop gawking and do what you have to do.</i><BR><BR>Dinendal sighed. "Before you were born I was a spy posted on the Mordorian borders. I had to learn the language to spy, obviously...the poor boy was apologizing for bumping into you."<BR><BR>Wary blue eyes snapped to regard Ngwaw, bending to retrieve her fallen dagger, but not returning it to its simple leather sheath, instead clutching the weapon as if it was her last lifeline - it was easy to see how badly she'd been shaken by that revelation.<BR><BR>"That still doesn't change the fact that he knows Black Speech...unfortunately for us we have no more time. If you want to go on this little goodwill mission, Dinendal, I suggest we leave <i>before</i>the child is eaten for breakfast."<BR><BR>Dinendal flicked his hair out of his eyes, turning to Ngwaw. "I believe we have one more thing to do here, Saurvingiel. If you do not mind, sir, would you care to explain exactly why you know the Black Speech?"
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Postby Key_Blade » Tue Jul 29, 2003 5:16 pm

Berrez woke to find himself alone in a field about a mile from the village. Dead bodies lay around him as he attmepted to stand. A pain ran through his side, bringing back the happenings of the night before. Of course! Those two figures. He looked around not seeing anything. Had they only been a dream?<BR><BR>"Hello?!" he called out to nothing. He looked at his compass. the nearist village was a bit north-west of here, only half an hour's walk. Berrez rummaged through the debri but couldn't find any of his belongings, though he did find his sword. With his sword sheathed and his arm gripping around the gash in his side he headed toward the town. <BR><BR>As he came through the entrance of the village, it began to rain. His bangs hung down in his face. Over in a backstreet, he saw three figures, standing. Two of them looked vaguely familiar. He walked up to them and realized who they were. The people from his dream! The one with shorter hair must've heard him coming because she spun around a pointed her sword at him.<BR><BR>"You! Who are you, kid?!" Berrez's green eyes narrowed at the word 'kid'. He pointed a finger at the lady.<BR><BR>"Hey, I'm no kid. I'm a ranger." the lady stepped back slightly amused. Berrez tried to stand up straighter, causing his wound to stretch. He pressed a hand against his side and gritted his teeth. The lady paid no mind to his momentary pain and continued.<BR><BR>"What's your name then ranger?" Berrez looked up.<BR><BR>"Illuser," he answered, giving her his Ranger name. One of the two men stepped forward. He was obviuosly an elf.<BR><BR>"Illuser eh? I'm Dinendal." Berrez nodded. The other man leaned against the wall and muttered something that he made out to be "Ngwaw". Berrez looked expectantly at the she-elf. She only looked away.<BR><BR>"I don't trust others with my name as easily as these two might."
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Postby SilmarilSeeker » Tue Jul 29, 2003 5:43 pm

Saurvingiel was not quite comfortable with her current situation. The members of the group she was in ran thus: a mere child playing at being a Ranger, a stalker that trusted everyone with everything, and...the last one. The Mordorian. <BR><BR>She was unsure what to make of any of them, even of Dinendal, whom she'd known for so long.<BR><BR>Dinendal sighed, shaking his head at the younger blonde. Bitterness he could understand her expressing, but this paranoia and irrational anger was strange from any kind of Elf. At times he simply didn't understand her.<BR><BR>Deciding not to let the Elf-woman's bad mood influence his own, he sat down in the middle of the battlefield and looked up, raising his face to the rain.<BR><BR>"Ithil is waxing."<BR><BR>The other Elf merely groaned, massaging her temple before giving him a reply.<BR><BR>"Thank the Valar that it's cloudy."<BR><BR>Dinendal brushed off the barb, ignoring it as part of her personality. Suddenly, something registered that hadn't before. The smell of blood and the way that the Ranger had avoided touching his side struck a chord in him. "Illuser...you are wounded, are you not?"<BR><BR>The Galadhrim turned pleading eyes upon Saurvingiel, who merely grit her teeth and approached the Ranger.<BR><BR>"Please remove your shirt so I may have access to the wound." She said, coolly apathetic to whether the boy did or not. Seeing him hesitate, she couldn't help but jab at him.<BR><BR>"Or don't. I'm sure the Orc poison won't take over a week to kill you."
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Postby SilmarilSeeker » Tue Jul 29, 2003 5:44 pm

((Double post. *hangs head in shame*))
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Postby Key_Blade » Tue Jul 29, 2003 6:12 pm

Berrez hesitated at first. But then unbuttoned the shirt, letting fall stick in around his waist. He could see Dinendal's nose scrunch as if he smelled something for the first time.<BR><BR>"There is something in your blood that does not smell like poison." Berrez gave a painful grin as the lady began to clean his wound.<BR><BR>"I have yokai(demon) blood in me. That is most definately what you smell." Ngwaw turned to him. <BR><BR>"So were you the one who caused the earthquake?" Berrez nodded. The lady gave a tug at the bandage as she tied it, causing him to yelp. He pulled his shirt up but buttoned it up only halfway so it hung loosely on his slender form. The rain changed from a drizzle to a steady pour of water droplets.<BR><BR>"We best get inside," the lady said. An abandoned tavern stood to their right and they hurried inside.<BR><BR>((ooc: I know that was horrible. I'll try harder, it's just I'm already trying very hard to fight this stupid writer's block))
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Postby SilmarilSeeker » Tue Jul 29, 2003 6:44 pm

((OOC: Fight that writers' block, Key! You can do it!))<BR><BR>Saurvingiel edged closer to the human...part demon, she corrected herself, remembering the tremors in the earth she'd felt before and listening to the conversation between Dinendal and...what was the boy's name? For the life of her, she couldn't remember...<BR><BR>It had started with an I, hadn't it?<BR><BR>Shrugging all this off as unimportant, she examined the wound from a professional standpoint, trying to disguise her revulsion at coming so close to a human.<BR><BR>But there was something else as well...was it pity? The wound was extensive, and, on a fullblooded human would probably take months to recover fully. Hopefully his demon blood could speed the process up a bit, as otherwise he was, quite literally, dead meat.<BR><BR>It looked painful.<BR><BR>Her higher consciousness expressed every desire to squash that thought and dance on its grave, but sympathy caught her unawares, and she didn't tie the bandage as tightly as she could have.<BR><BR>Blue eyes narrowed as the drizzle turned to a steady rain.<BR><BR>"We had best go inside." She said, entering the abandoned tavern with minimal fuss, as the rest followed. She seated herself upon a bench, curling into a ball as she did when she felt threatened. <BR><BR>The she-Elf rested her cheek upon her upper arm and stared off into nothing.<BR><BR>While she did so, Dinendal took an inventory of the bar. There were still several casks of ale intact as well as some water. The foodstuffs were limited to bread and cheese.<BR><BR>"Would either of you like anything to drink or eat?"
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Postby Key_Blade » Tue Jul 29, 2003 8:04 pm

((ooc: I'm fighting it! I'm fighting it!))<BR><BR>Berrez grabbed a hunk of bread a gobbled it down quickly. He then jumped up on a table and laid down on the flat surface. He put one hand behind his head and closed his eyes, feeling the need for sleep.<BR><BR>"Ecxuse me..um...what was your name again?" Berrez looked up at the she-elf.<BR><BR>"It's Illuser." she nodded and set a mug of ale before him.<BR><BR>"In case you're thirsty. By the way, my name's Sarvingiel." Berrez nodded but left the glass in it's spot. After a few awkward seconds, Berrez opened one green eye and saw Sarvingiel still standing there. A worried expression crossed her features.<BR><BR>"You're sure you'll be alright? That wound was pretty deep." Berrez shifted on his side and looked up at her.<BR><BR>"I'll be fine, really," he said in a I-fine-now-could-you-please-go-away tone of voice. The elf nodded and walked off to join the two others. Berrez looked out the window, the light coming in causing shadows of the droplets to dance across his face. He knew the wound was bad, but he didn't want the others to worry about him. He would heal quickly and, besides, they didn't have to take care of him, he knew.
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Postby Elfin_Jedi77@yahoo.com » Tue Jul 29, 2003 8:20 pm

Erisu finally came to the small orc training camp. She scrunched her nose in disgust as pungent odor seemed to be forever intertwined with the air. She slowed her horse's pace to a trot as they passed through the entrance.<BR><BR>"All beings report to main area!" A shout could be heard from above as Erisu's presence was announced. Rows upon row of mutilated bodies lined up craeting a path for her. she passed the sleeping quarters, the stables, the warg pits, and last of all, the torture chanber, until she came to the chief orc's main quarters. She dismounted her horse and left as some lower officers took care of it. Her gaze did not rest on a single foul body. <BR><BR>"Ah! Her grace has finally decided to bless our humble barracks with her presence-"<BR><BR>"Oh shutup Fishgnik." she interrupted, her youthly face giving off a cold, apathetic vibe. She walked passed the orc and into his office, and sat down in a metallic black chair.<BR><BR>"Officer Fishgnik." her voice was quite demanding despite her young appearance and it caused the officer to cringe with hear.<BR><BR>"Yes ma'am?" <BR><BR>"Have the troops arrived with the boy yet?"<BR><BR>"Uh...no ma'am."<BR><BR>"Have you got any word from them yet?"<BR><BR>"No ma'am." Erisu stood up in rage, her naturally white hair whipping about in the loose ponytail she had it up in. <BR><BR>"Then what in blazes have you got from them?! I sent them out to find one person. One person! I even told them his exact whereabouts and they can't even bring him to me in a week?!" A gust of wind seemed to surge about through the room, causing papers and whatnot to fly everywhere. <BR><BR>"I'm sorry, your grace! We just need more time!" Erisu glared at him and sat down. After a moment of silence, she spoke.<BR><BR>"Fine. Arrange for my quarters to be occupied. I'll be staying here until they return with the boy." Fishgnik gulped and bowed to her.<BR><BR>"Yes ma'am." with that said and done he ran out of the office. Erisu smirked and leaned back in the chair.<BR><BR>"Bloody orcs."<BR>
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Postby Aiwe » Tue Jul 29, 2003 11:17 pm

Ngwaw had been hurredly surveying his slim options, staring fixedly at the she-elf's silver-inlaid dagger, when the half-demon came stumbling down the road. He'd followed the group to the inn, feeling that not doing so would earn him a dagger in the troat from that insane elf. <BR><BR>Once the half-youkai had settled in for a nap, Ngwaw slid down to a seat on the floor in the far corner of the inn. Everything near the demon boy reeked of fresh red blood, and it was taking Ngwaw a lot of willpower not to start drooling. The moon pulled at him even behind its veil of clouds, but it was not full. He could resist the change for now. <BR><BR>The two elves came over and stood in front of him, looking down speculatively into his yellow eyes. Ngwaw quickly shifted his gaze to the wooden floor, though he knew it wouldn't do him any good. They'd find out sooner or later what he was. In about three days, probably, when the moon would wax full yet again.<BR><BR>The one called Dinendal sat down cross-legged in front of Ngwaw, while Saurvingiel remained standing. "You never answered my question...Ngwaw, was it?"<BR><BR>The werewolf continued his careful study of the floorboards. He nodded.<BR><BR>"How, then, do you come to know the Black Speech? To speak like a native of Modor, and judging by your accent, I'd say Southern Mordor to be more precise, is not a common skill in the Free Lands."<BR><BR>The she-elf flinched ever so slightly. Not only did her trusted friend understand the speech, he now seemed to know it well enough to separate the accents. What other facinating facts would she learn about him on this trip? She didn't care to speculate. One reality shock a day was plenty.<BR><BR>Ngwaw was hastily putting together a semi-plausible lie when Dinendal Spoke again.<BR><BR>"Do yourself a favor and don't lie. If you do, I cannot be responsible for my associate's actions."<BR><BR>Ngwaw risked an upward glance and saw that Saurvingiel was fingering her unsheathed dagger in a loving fashion. <BR><BR>"Er...I was born there, in Mordor I mean. Southern Mordor. But I ran away four years ago." There. It wasn't a lie. He just told them what they already guessed, plus a little extra. He didn't have to come completely clean unless it was really necessary. <BR><BR>It shortly became necessary. The she-elf squatted down and held the dagger uncomfortably close to his face. "Born there, Eh? Not a whole lot of humans about in Mordor, from what I hear. Not many with yellow eyes, I'd bet. This blade is inlaid with silver. But I'm sure you know that already." She smiled sweetly, which was a horrifying enough sight on its own without the dagger.<BR><BR>Ngwaw gulped. He considered the situation momentarily, then let out a sigh. "I'm a werewolf, OK? Happy? Go ahead and slit my throat. There's dozens who'd thank you, I'm sure." He leaned his head back against the wall and shut his incriminating eyes. <BR><BR>--Aiwe
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Postby SilmarilSeeker » Sat Aug 02, 2003 12:56 pm

Saurvingiel smirked, looking down at the werewolf with emotionless ice-blue eyes. "No...I don't think I will. If your story's true and you were born in Mordor, then you'll doubtless have some information that will be useful to me."<BR><BR>The she-Elf paused, glancing at Dinendal, Ngwaw, and Illuser, as if sizing them up before beginning. "I would like to know which Orc parties go on patrol at which times, as well as the grouping and deployment of the Mordorian army as of four years ago."<BR><BR>She ceased talking for a moment and rose, allowing Ngwaw to absorb this information while she went and got herself an ale. Dinendal was rather disgusted by his charge's consumption of the crude human drink - it simply wasn't a part of Elven culture. While going through the mental list of places she could have picked up this quirk, he entirely missed the next part of the conversation, which, in retrospect, was probably a good thing.<BR><BR>Saurvingiel seated herself across from Ngwaw once more, letting the tankard fall to the table with a resounding thunk, making eye contact with the werewolf before continuing. "If you will not divulge this information I will be forced to spy on many different contingents for months, possibly years, to figure it out. I dislike implementing stealth for a long period of time. It frustrates me immensely. It frustrates me so much that I might be forced to take that frustration out upon something...or someone."<BR><BR>As Dinendal made contact with reality once more, the she-Elf leaned forwards, resting her elbows on the table and throwing Ngwaw an impertinent smirk, leaving her associate in complete confusion.<BR><BR>"Catch my drift?"<BR>
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Postby Aiwe » Sat Aug 02, 2003 1:43 pm

"Er..yeah." Ngwaw said, with an out of the frying pan and into the fire feeling. He paused a moment. "But...why? Why do you want to know? There's literally hundreds of orc parties. They work in small groups unless there's a raid on. And its not as though the Dark Lord," he spat the name disgustedly, "would confide his military plans to a werewolf not yet out of training camp. If you could tell me specifics and tell me <i>why</i>, then I might be of some assistance. If all you're going to do is use my information to murder His Lordship's slaves, be they orcs or wargs or werewolves--people like myself, in other words--then I'm afraid I can't help you." He waited for the elf's response. <BR><BR>--Aiwe
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Postby Key_Blade » Sat Aug 02, 2003 3:29 pm

<i>A werewolf!</i><BR><BR>Berrez shifted unconfortably on the table top. He hoped the smell of his blood didn't bother him. He listened to the conversation between the she-elf and the werewolf. Saurvingiel obviously wanted to take some sort of toll on the orcs. But by herself? Berrez had only been to an orc camp once in his life and it had been filled with at least fifty some odd orcs. The size of the camps had most definately doubled by now, did she really think she could take all them by herself? Or mayber, she had a plan.....<BR><BR>Berrez propped himself up on his elbows, cringing every time he put too much pressure on his wound. Dinendal seemed to have heard him and walked silently over to his position. Berrez nodded toward his companion.<BR><BR>"Is she always like this?" Dinendal smiled sadly.<BR><BR>"Sometimes she worse." Berrez chuckled. <BR><BR>"I 'visited' an orc camp once. I had been looking for a friend of mine who had been captured..." he choked up slightly and Dinendal leaned forward.<BR><BR>"What happened to this friend of yours?" <BR><BR>"S-she was actually my half sister. She died," Berrez looked down, letting his almost blonde locks fall into his face. He felt a hand on his shoulder.<BR><BR>"I'm sorry," Berrez sat up quickly, ignoring the pain.<BR><BR>"Hey, it's fine." Dinendal gave him a nod and sat down in a nearby chair. <BR><BR><i>Sure it's fine.</i><BR><BR>Berrez's eyes darted around the room. could the others hear it? Who had said that?<BR><BR><i>I'm sure it would be obvious.</i><BR><BR>Who? Who? Suddenly, an image flashed in his eyes. A blonde figure with a black bandana covering his eyes, and wearing all black plus a silky black cape seemed to step out from his nightmares. A small yet noticable, single black dragon-like wing sprouted from his back. In that single moment, Berrez knew who it was.<BR><BR><i>I'm you.</i>
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Postby SilmarilSeeker » Sat Aug 02, 2003 4:20 pm

"Oh, believe me, the widespread slaughter will only be one of my bonuses." The she-elf murmured dryly, rising to refill her tankard of ale. <BR><BR>Dinendal watched, remembering some of the drinking contests Saurvingiel had attended, accompanying her older brothers and ensuring that no one walked off a talan. In hindsight, allowing her to listen to many drunken Elves expound upon the technique of drinking ale was probably a bad idea, but no matter. The damage had been done.<BR><BR>"The short version is that there's two people in Mordor I have to find, and rather quickly, so I really don't have time to argue with you."<BR><BR>She sat, awaiting the werewolf's reply and listening to the conversation between Dinendal and Illuser. <BR><BR><i>"Is she always like this?"</i><BR><BR>The blonde twitched reflexively, eyes flicking just a millimeter to the left, surreptiously observing the Elf and the Man. She hated being discussed by anyone, and this young half-human upstart was no exception. <BR><BR><i>"Sometimes she's worse."</i><BR><BR><i>Oh, don't make me show you worse, Dinendal...</i> She thought, eyes narrowing to slits before they snapped back to regard Ngwaw.<BR><BR>"Well?"
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Postby Aiwe » Sat Aug 02, 2003 4:52 pm

"Killing is one thing. Finding people is another," said Ngwaw, as the elf-woman drained her tankard. He never touched ale, because he new he might accidentally let something slip and get himself run out of town. <BR><BR>He met the elf's icy stare. "Who are these two, and are you finding them to kill them or to preserve their lives? Because if it's the latter I can help you. I vowed never to set foot in the Black Lands again, but if all that vow gets me is silverwounds from you, then perhaps I shall be inclined to break it. I can get you anywhere you like in Mordor, within reason. No one knows me as an individual. All they know is that I'm a werewolf with a number branded on my arm. Those numbers are never checked against any sort of list, but their presence can be as good as a set of keyes in some places. The Dark Lord's Hounds can usually go where they please. As payment, you agree to get me back out of that vile place again. However," he paused, "If all you want is help in planning a bloodbath, then I'm outta here, silver knife or no silver knife." he folded his arms in front of his chest. The elf raised an eyebrow and got up to refill her drink yet again before responding.<BR><BR>As she walked away Ngwaw sensed something else drift into the dark brown scent-cloud of human blood, demon blood, and earth-magic that hovered around Illuser. It was cold-sharp, burning-white: fear--a smell instantly recognised by all werewolves. He wondered inwardly what could scare a half-demon. Was it the thing that killed his half-sister, or something even worse?<BR><BR>--Aiwe
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Postby Key_Blade » Sat Aug 02, 2003 5:01 pm

Berrez seemed to be in a daze. In front of him a vision of the figure stood where tables and chairs and well....where the rest of the tavern should be. The figure, whose eyes were still covered, grinned slyly.<BR><BR><i>I'm your dark Berrez.</i><BR><BR>'But how?' he managed to himself, 'the only way I could have a seperate darkside would be if I had been it myself before.' the figure's evil smile only widened.<BR><BR><i>And that you are. You're part demon, therefore, you have a seperate darkside, metaphorically speaking.</i><BR><BR>Berrez frowned. 'But why are you here?'<BR><BR><i>We both know who killed your sister. Use these beings to get you to Mordor and take your revenge!</i><BR><BR>Now Berrez was very shaken. 'Go away.'<BR><BR><i>Fine but I'll be back.</i> The figure vanished, but those last words lingered in his mind. He looked around at the others. He took a sip of some water Dinendal had brought him. He sat there thinking, what could have brought this figure out of hiding......after all these years?
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Postby SilmarilSeeker » Sat Aug 02, 2003 6:23 pm

Saurvingiel sipped at her ale, considering what Ngwaw had said so far. This person could, quite conceivably, get her into Mordor and hand her her brothers' lives on a mithril plate. <BR><BR>The question was, what did he want in return....<BR><BR>The Elf-woman had learned from her time wandering the wilds that almost everyone had an ulterior motive, and that most of them weren't good. Maybe this werewolf was in Sauron's employ - she checked almost automatically for any of the signs of a lie that could be extremely evident in mortals that didn't know better than to hide it.<BR><BR>Or maybe he would bring them in as a meal for his pack. As skilled as the Galadhrim and Rangers were, two Elves and one Man could not possibly withstand a pack of twenty or thirty werewolves. Orcs, maybe - but not werewolves.<BR><BR>These were possible, Saurvingiel conceded. If she kept her head up and her eyes open, she'd be able to prevent such a catastrophe, as she had many times before.<BR><BR>However, to get into Mordor, she had to relive the torture she'd gone through, explain exactly why she wanted to waste the entire place and torture to death every Orc and Warg in it.<BR><BR>She took a deep breath, allowing her eyes to fall closed and her body to relax from its normally tense state for one moment, drawing her strength for the torment to come.<BR><BR>"Fifteen years ago the patrol my two brothers were on was taken out by an Orc raid. Everyone I knew and loved was on that patrol - all of my childhood friends, my bonded, my brothers." <BR><BR>Dinendal, sensing that the impending breakdown would not come in the presence of either Illuser or Ngwaw, steeled himself for a very snappish Saurvingiel in the span of the next four months or so. <BR><BR>"Only Dinendal escaped with his life. The bodies of my brothers were never found."<BR><BR>She purposely left out the last part, the part she'd relived in nightmares so many times over the last two decades. She had been a healer with the force sent in to rescue the doomed patrol...<i>No!</i><BR><BR><i>You're not thinking about that now. You're not thinking about it ever again. Do this for Valthoron and Thorondor.</i><BR><BR>"My contacts say that there are Elves in Mordor, working as thralls in the Dead Marshes by day, and kept by night in the barracks nearby. The number of Elves may be counted upon one hand, in accordance with my information. I believe that my brothers still live."<BR><BR>It would be dangerous, life threatening, incredibly stupid. It would be amazing if one of them managed to keep their heads going in, not to mention fetching the two Lorien Elves and getting out again. <BR><BR>"Please...will you help me?"<BR><BR>-<BR><BR><i>"Please...will you help me?"</i><BR><BR>The plea took Dinendal by surprise. Was this the same Elf he'd walked into the deserted building with not an hour ago? Saurvingiel, at least the one he knew, rarely asked for anything, and never looked as desperate as she did now.<BR><BR>He could understand the need for her to rescue her brothers, to redeem herself, but he would be amazed if even Valthoron, with his legendary skill with the bow, had survived for fifteen years as a thrall in the Dead Marshes. <BR><BR>This was foolish, this was insane, this was suicidal...and he was going.<BR><BR>"Ai, Elbereth, what have I gotten myself into now..." he sighed, allowing his eyes to come to rest on Illuser...who was staring into a seemingly empty tract of air.<BR><BR>Dinendal had been trained to recognize fear at a moment's glance - the slight clenching of the muscles in the jaw, the increasing rapidity of the pulse, the fact that one's sweat glands went into overdrive, the dilation of the pupils.<BR><BR>He'd seen it on many people, mortal and Elven alike, but he had rarely observed such a reaction as he was at the moment. <BR><BR>Wondering what could possibly trouble the part-human so, Dinendal decided to wait and observe, and see what would happen next.
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Postby Aiwe » Sun Aug 03, 2003 12:39 am

Ngwaw remained silent, thinking for a moment. The elf wasn't lying, he knew that because he couldn't detect any of the slight changes in scent caused by the chemicals that enter the bloodstream when even a practiced liar lies. She was sincere. She, of the knives and icy eyes and silver voice, was pleading with him. Unbidden, his mind dredged up the long-buried images of his little sister, as she scampered in the rocky steppes, chasing rats and her own tail now and then. Then came her death. It was a clean death, at least. No sense in ruining a good wolfhide by whipping her to death with that dreaded silver-hooked cat o' nine tails used on bad dogs. They hit her over the head with a wooden club and then lifted her limp, frail little body to finish the job with a silver blade. <i>I lost my sister to them. This elf lost everyone. If there's a chance that even one could be saved...</i> He looked up again, blinking back the water rising in his eyes. "I'll take you, then. But do not take your rage for your loved ones out on simple slaves. They know nothing of your loss, and thier deaths will bring back none of those who are lost. The lowly servants of the Dark Lord too are suffering, just as I once suffered, and as your brothers now suffer as thralls."<BR><BR>--Aiwe
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Postby SilmarilSeeker » Sun Aug 03, 2003 9:41 am

Dinendal sighed, almost wishing for a moment that he'd never agreed to watch his best friends' younger sister, that he was back in Lothlorien on guard duty. But no, it was too late to go back now. Like it or not, he'd promised, and would see that promise through until its end. <BR><BR>His focus was still upon Illuser, concern radiating from every pore of his body like a tangible thing as he walked over to the ranger, a callused hand coming to rest upon the part-human's shoulder as he shook the boy.<BR><BR>"Illuser? Are you ill?"<BR><BR>Meanwhile, Saurvingiel was formulating a plan. This would most certainly be painful for everyone involved, and they could all be executed at the top of a hat but it was the only thing that would possibly work.<BR><BR>It would most likely be best to leave the boy here, as the Orc squadron had been after him in the first place, and maybe she could convince Dinendal to stay and ensure the Ranger's recovery...yes, that would be both a plausible lie and extremely convenient. <BR><BR>That way, if she died Ngwaw would be able to get out safely (because if they never checked the numbers how would they know one werewolf from another?) and Dinendal and Illuser would be in only a minimal amount of danger the entire time.<BR><BR>If it worked...well, Saurvingiel wasn't going to formulate any escape plans just yet. She glanced over at the suddenly catatonic ranger and arched an eyebrow before returning her focus to Ngwaw.<BR><BR>"If you have any ideas about how to get us in, I'd like to hear them. All I've got is an extremely stupid plan that would most likely get us both killed if I mess up."
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Postby Aiwe » Sun Aug 03, 2003 1:03 pm

"Oh, don't worry about that. <i>Any</i> plan that fails in Mordor will get you killed, whether it's stupid or not," said Ngwaw. He looked around the room. "Anybody got some paper and a pen?"<BR><BR>A search of the bar came up with a blank page torn from the ledger, plus a stick of charcoal. "It'll do," The werewolf began sketching a map: first the squiggly line of the Anduin on the far left, followed by a small X on its northwestern side. "We're here." On the eastern side he drew the familiar rectangular shape of Ephel Duath. "This is how I got out..." he traced a finger starting at the southern wall of mountains, following a jagged path west and north. "The only problem with taking that road again is this: I'm undead, you're not. I can fall in a ravine, or get caught in a landslide, or go for months without food and water <i>and not die</i> because technically I'm already there. Granted, it's not at all fun, but I can keep going. I don't think you could. I took a circuitous route, a very dangerous route, because I wanted to avoid the patrols. Why post orcs if the mountains can do the job themselves? Now, I'm assuming that you want to avoid the patrols just the same. Unfortunately, the paths that can be traversed easily by man or elf are always guarded. I was a wolf the whole way out of Mordor, and unless you're a shapeshifter and I haven't smelled it yet, we can't go my way again. We'll have to use the guarded routes at least some of the time. I can smell my way around most of the patrols, but there's no telling when there might be a werewolf amongst them who will smell us, too," he looked up and slid the map and charcoal across the table to Saurvingiel. "Ok, that's my stupid plan. What's yours? And where are your brothers being held?"<BR><BR>--Aiwe
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Postby Key_Blade » Sun Aug 03, 2003 5:34 pm

Berrez felt a hand on his shoulder and suddenly jolted back into reality. He saw the Galadhrim's face looking down at him.<BR><BR>"Illuser, are you ill?" Berrez looked down and stuttered.<BR><BR>"No, no I'm fine." He saw the hesitance in Dinendal's face but he left anyway. Berrez listened to the werewolf's plan to get in. It was obvious by the look on Saurvingiel's face, she was forming her own plan as well. He had her say something before but it had not registered at the time. <i>Will you help me?</i> Berrez slid off the table and walked over to the she-elf.<BR><BR>"I will help you find your brothers, if you want," Saurvingiel seemed to smile for the first time and nodded her thanks.<BR><BR><i>Sure you'll help her. Ha! You're just answering her plea for hard workers to carry out her task for her.</i> Berrez gritted his teeth and glared at noone in particular. 'I thought I told you to go away.' At least this time only the voice was there. But it kept nagging.<BR><BR><i>Go away! Go away! How could I possibly go away completely? I am you after all?</i> Berrez scowled. 'Shutup.' The voice, dripping with vileness and poison, kept at it.<BR><BR><i>Why don't you let me out? I could help you achieve your every goal! </i> Berrez sighed. 'Go away before I do something we'll both regret.' A burden seemed to lift. He was gone....for now. That's when he heard Ngwaw again.<BR><BR>"So elf, that's my stupid plan, have you got anything better?" Berrez leaned in on the conversation a bit more, very intrigued by what might be the outcome.
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