[Regin Hardhammer]

By the time Ishkur arose, the slim crescent of the moon had risen and shone down from above. He had slept late and had only woken when there was an odd thunderclap of some sort that lit up the dark night sky. Ishkur thought that rather strange since he could not hear any more thunder and there was no hint of rain on the horizon.

The other Orcs had already departed from camp and headed to the slavers' place to pillage and raid. He cursed himself for his lateness. If he did not hurry, the others would already have gotten there and skimmed away the very best of the pickings. Perhaps if he was lucky, he could pick up a sword just as fine as the glittering jeweled blade that Makdush had found. After binding his own sword to his side, Ishkur set out at a fast pace straight to the portion of camp where he knew the horses and donkeys were kept. He had a real weakness for horse flesh and could not wait to bring down another animal and fill his stomach to bulging.

As Ishkur walked quickly towards the camp, he began to wonder if they had made the right choice to stay here for another two nights. He had been the one most responsible for that. Maybe he should not have been so sure of himself and instead listened to the misgivings of his friend Gwerr who had counseled caution. It might be a risky business to raid the same people three or four times in a row. Could the slavers be so stupid that they wouldn't set up extra guards against the intruders?

It was extremely rare for Ishkur to have second thoughts about anything. Like most Orcs, his general impulse was to act first and ask questions later. Sometimes he didn't even bother to ask questions at all. But today he was feeling rather strange. He sensed that something important was going to happen and it was something that had not happened in a very long time. What bothered him most was that he wasn't sure if that "something" would be good or bad. He just knew it would be very different.

All his misgivings about the camp raid were abruptly swept away in just a few minutes. Even from a distance he could see that the entire place was in an uproar. Horses and donkeys were running everywhere. A number of them had escaped from their pens and were now taking off across the plains. Many of the slavers were running around in circles trying to catch the horses and lead them back to camp. They were not doing a very good job. Ishkur laughed to see one man kicked in the ribs by a rearing horse and another try to scramble onto a horse's back only to be thrown back down on the ground.

Iskkur was one of the rare orcs who actually had a way with horses. When he wasn't eating them, he was fairly adept at grooming and riding the beasts. He had a certain respect for the animals, although he would never have admitted that to another living Orc. Once in a while, he even thought about starting a small farm in the foothills of the mountains where he could raise horses to sell both for their flesh and as riding animals.

Ishkur laughed again as he saw one horse play cat and mouse with a man by letting him get closer and then at the very last moment running away so that the man could not touch him. These slavers did not know horses very well. They should have crept quietly through the grass to approach, grunted some soft sounds and gradually let the animal amble into a small canyon or dell from which it would be harder to escape. Ishkur even knew how to knot a rope and, tossing it through the air, make it sing and come down securely over the horse's neck. He'd learned this skill in recapturing runaway slaves and dragging them back to the plantation, but it also worked well with horses. Although he had no rope with him, he could not resist trying to track one of the animals and secure it for his own. This time he would not eat it. Instead he would use it as a riding beast. Relatively few orcs were adept at riding horseback and maybe someday he could use this animal to help start a little place of his own where he could raise a whole herd of stallions and mares. For the moment he would ignore the grumbling in his stomach.

He singled out an especially fine black stallion thatalready had a saddle on its back and a bridle with reins. He began tracking the animal across the plains. For some time he stalked the beast, approaching close but not too close and uttering soft sounds to calm the creature. The horse veered to the west and remained on the perimeter of camp until the two of them came to a stream. Ishkur had a piece of luck when the animal plodded into the water and stopped to drink. One more moment of drinking, and Ishkur actually managed to approach the horse. The beast stared out quizically at him. Generally, the horse did not like orcs, but this particular orc seemed quieter and gentler than others he had seen on the plantations. He was certainly no worse than many of the slavers. The horse raised his head, whinnied a welcome, and let Ishkur come over and mount up on his back without too much of a fuss.

Proudly mounted on the beast whom he named Thunderclap in honor of the great noise in the sky, Ishkur decided that he would not do any more raiding tonight and instead would head back to his own camp. There would be no more horseflesh for dinner, but he could be content eating some of the food that the women had given him. He was about to turn around and gallop off towards the east and south when something unexpected caught his eye. He stared and stared again. There were a three men standing by the steam. Ishkur wondered what they were doing way out here on the backside of the camp. It looked as if they were up to some kind of mischief. He stared closer at the men. One was nothing special and one was very tall but old wearing a brown robe. He could run the two of them down in a minute and briefly considered doing this for a little fun. But when he looked at the third figure, all thoughts of swordplay left his mind.

It was an Elf. It was definitely an Elf. Ishkur's skin tingled unpleasantly at the thought of being so close to an Elf. Orcs hated Elves with a passion and Ishkur was no exception. Ishkur wondered if this was the only Elf around or if there were more. He should get back and tell Gwerr about the Elf but first he wanted to take a closer look to see if there were any others in the vicinity. After dismounting the horse, he led him forward by the reins and stayed within the cover of the bushes until he was close enough to make out the Elf's face. As Ishkur's eyes fixed on the Elf, his stomach dropped down to his toes. A chill spread through his entire body. There were no other Elves in the area, but he was certain he had seen this Elf before a very, very long time ago. He did not know where or when.

There was a lot about his early life that Ishkur could not remember. The first thing he could recall was being brought up in front of Morgoth and bowing down on bended knee swearing allegiance to the Dark Shadow. That was his life. It was who he was. Whatever he was before that moment was all gone. But a little voice whispered in his head that this Elf had something to do with that earlier period he could not remember. Part of Ishkur wanted to run up and take the Elf's head off his shoulders. The other part wanted to approach the Elf and see if he might possibly recognize him. Mostly, he wanted to get away from the Elf and from that place and never see him again. Ishkur remounted and let out a fierce battle cry, kicked the horse in the flanks and took off at a gallop with no idea of where he was going.