[alaklondewen]

Ugrashk ran quickly in the dark. He hated going on these “missions”. Of course he wanted the flesh to fill his growling stomach, knowing all too well the harshness of the winters in the mountains, but he hated leaving the confines of the mines. The fresh air made his head light and the fragrance of the land between the mountains and the forest turned his stomach. Then there was that wicked forest. He hated the nasty elves and that golden forest more than he hated the fresh air and grass. If they were lucky they would get to have some real fun reeking havoc in there tonight. Nashka would never let them go too far in because he always wanted to stick to the orders, but they might get to play some nonetheless.

Years ago strange stories came about Orcs following a band (this was around the time of the fall of the great demon) that entered that wretched place and were never seen again. There had always been rumors of the dangerous Lady that haunted the forest, but after the War, she left and the place has never been the same. The forest may not have been as dangerous, but it was still disgusting to Ugrashk. He cringed at the thought of those nasty elves and their songs.

After moving for a few hours, the forest finally loomed ahead in the darkness. Nashka barked orders at the group to form their line, and Ugrashk fell in. The great shadow of the trees grew and became an immense black mass in the grey shadows of the moonless night. Ugrashk growled under his breath as he readied himself. Moments after, he heard what sounded like a whistle, coming from where…he could not tell. He turned his head to see if it one of the Orcs behind him, if so he would shut them up in a hurry. As he turned back to the front, several things happened so quickly that he was unsure of what was taking place. First, the soldier directly in front of him collapsed, whether he had tripped or something else, Ugrashk did not know, but he caught his foot on the underside of the fallen and lunged forward. He heard several other whistles before he realized they were under attack. Panicking at seeing those falling all around him, he pulled out his bow and let a clumsy arrow fly not knowing where the assailants were located.

Spinning on his heels, Ugrashk was going to run back to the mountains and the mines. He would tell the Great Kugruk, and a whole army would be sent to destroy the forest. The fleeing Orc tripped over another of his comrades who grabbed his foot asking for help. Ugrashk shook his foot and kicked the fallen Orc until he let go of his limb. Before he could completely twist himself, he was hit so hard that his body was thrown backward. Looking down, he could see the silver shaft, glistening even in the darkness, protruding from his chest. Ugrashk dropped to his knees trying to pull the arrow from his body, but was unsuccessful as his strength became increasingly diminished. He was tired and his body finally collapsed entirely and never moved again.

~*~*~

“Let us go and dispose of the remains,” Erebemlin called to the other three. He was relieved the task was over and knew much work needed to be done to cleanse the area.

The foursome worked until the morning ensure all of their enemies were deceased, then checking the bodies for any weapons or trinkets that may have been taken from other races. Once these preliminary tasks were handled, Celegtâl and Taitheneb dug a small pit a significant distance south of the forest, while Erebemlin and Caranduin (being of stouter build than the other two) carried the bodies one by one and laid them in the center. Caranduin then kindled a great fire that’s thick black smoke rose and tainted the new morning's sky.