Morachion plummeted down the cliff, landing in a heap of rubble. His wounds hurt greatly, but they would heal. He walked slowly away, hobbling slightly as he felt twinges of pain in his legs.
Suddenly, he stopped. There, right in front of him, was an orc, dead. It was one of the snagas, cleaved in two by some huge sword. He passed it by.
Then, he halted again. The body of another orc lay pinned to a tree by an arrow. The arrowhead dripped with blood. Morachion pondered this, and the female human's ability to throw him, one of the great spiders of Mordor, from a ledge. Perhaps humans were not to be fought with. He would not interfere in their actions again, thought the spider, as he walked away, far to the north, far from the terrible men of Gondor.
Morachion was seen in later days, living among the spiders of Mirkwood. There many creatures found death in his webs, but among the Elves of Thranduil it is said that he always cut humans free from his webs when they wandered in, for fear of retribution from others of their race.
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