Morachion ebtered the camp. The orcs' tents were encircling the group of prisoners, who looked even more miserable than before. The orcs guarding the prisoners were giving the humans a look that was very similar to way one would look at a well-cooked dinner.
The small orcs laid Barodir on the ground. Pirk was silent, muttering to himself at this new development. Morachion put Barodir's sword down, relieved to be free of his burden, and scuttled up a tree to rest.
Grumish eyed the Gondorian blade lying on the ground with great interest. He picked it up in both hands and gleefully swung it upwards, slashing a thick tree-branch in two. This was better than any weapon he'd wielded before. He threw aside the greatly inferior swords he had carried before, which were ernestly snatched up by smaller orcs.
[ April 13, 2003: Message edited by: Meoshi ]
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