[The Ruling Ring]

Fededhor halted, listening to the mens' words without turning around. He turned with Pherdur's question.

"It would be a perilous road," he said to the soldier. "Already, we have seen that their numbers are not trivial, but if they are great, they may have been able to afford to position some back along this road. Anyone who goes back down it alone would be in the greatest of danger."

Fededhor looked around at the others with them. There weren't many with them, but Donlamir and Pherdur's comments held water, and if Pherdur meant to go back if needs be necessary--and it looked like it was, and he did-- then, it would probably be better to send a few.

"If you go, you cannot go alone," Fededhor said. "You must take some of us back with."

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Pirk looked with eyes narrow in consideration at Mauwurz. This could be well for them. They had already bungled so much of the job, perhaps instilling fear in the men of Minas Tirith was the best thing to be done.

"Alright," he said, then added begrudgingly, "good idea. Put them away. Make some cages, if there is not enough rope. Use the beams from these wretched houses."

Just then, Pirk saw another orcish figure running towards him. He stopped just before Pirk, flinging a sullied bag down at his feet.

Pirk dropped to a squat, Unglusch's rumbling voice sounding above his head as he tore at the fabric of the bag. Inside it were some provisions, some medicine, and a crinkly piece of parchment.

Pirk frowned, squinting at the parchment, half-soaked from being flung in a mud puddle while still in the bag. He knew very little of man-scrawlings, but he could pick out a few words. He'd have to ask his second in command to translate it in full later, but privately, without all of his own lackeys there to jeer at him for his stupidity. Besides, he pretty well understood what it said from what he could pick out.

"They were worried," Pirk straighened up, looking with delight on Unglusch. He turned back to those other orcs that were within range. "They were worried! Those poor little tarks are worried for their kind. They sent food and rubbish, but this," he waved the note in the air excitedly, "saying that they send soldiers. More men are coming! More manflesh!"

There was a brief pause as his men considered this, then a resounding cheer of jubilation at the prospective bloodshed went up, to shake the tops of the trees.

[ April 12, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ]