LOTR: An Orc Quest

"I've found a mighty elven artifact, stolen from the dead in the swamps! I bring it to you to prove my loyalty, for I had to fight the ghost to get it." You eagerly tell your new master. "Cursed by the foul sorcery of Sauron, they hate anything that lives, but I still was able to steal it from them to bring it to you. It is with my things, my I get it and present it to you, my master?"

Your master gives you a hard look than nods - allowing you to get the present for him. You turn around and sprint the way back you had come. Down the small hill and a slight slope in the land, towards the river. Their you had made camp, together with a group of Uruk's who you had found left behind by their commanders in the deep dark of the spider-infested forest. They had been used as payment to the giant spiders, a thank you from the commander of Dol Guldur. Their leader was Grashki, an old Uruk with a scarred face who knew that he had been betrayed by their commander. When you had freed him and his men from the spider webs and told them the truth, he had decided it would be better to serve the stronger, newer Dark Lord than to return back to Dol Guldur.

When you reach the camp, the Uruk's look up towards you in the dark of the night. They hadn't lighted a fire yet on your orders, you had feared this could alarm the guards of the Lord. A fear that had been pointless, you now know.

"Did you find him?" Grashki's question came out short and sharp in orcish. Thanks to his scar's, it looked like he was snarling the whole time. He wasn't big for an Uruk, but he was without question the one in the group of Uruk's who you would believe if he said he had choked a Troll. His arms resemble small tree trunks, and he could span his Crossbow without putting his foot in the handle to get the pulling power for it. He also was a creature of honor, as much as an Uruk could be honorable.

"Yes." You knell next to your pack and start to dig through it. The present was at the bottom of the bag, and you had to dig through different things to reach it. "He has allowed that I present the gift to him. I think he is willing to take us into his service."

Grashki comments that with a grunt and walks a few steps away to his soldiers. They begin to speak in the dialect of Dol Guldur. But you don't care when your fingertips finally come against the racks that hold the present. Carefully to not expose it, you pull it out of your pack and take a deep breath. This was the moment you had prepared yourself for. Finally, you would enter the service of a true, Dark Lord so much more powerful than Sauron. And then, together with him, you would destroy the imposer to create a new age!

An Age of Orcs!

When you turn around, you see how one of the Uruk's helps Grashki into his armor, the rest of the warriors are already clad in their armor. The quivers on their left side were filled with bolts, and the short sword's on their right side looked evil, as always. In their arms were their famous Uruk Crossbows that they used with such a skill. It looked like they were planning to move, and that made you worried.

"What is this, Grashki?"

"We come with you." The leader of the Uruks says with steel in his voice. He grabs his own Crossbow and looks at you. "Let our new master see our power!"

You swallow nervously than noted in agreement after a moment of thinking. It was time to stop hiding and return to the way of the warrior. All of this sneaking had made you forget the right way how to handle things. But it wouldn't be good for either you or the Uruks if you didn't show your new master your strength. After all, no one wanted weaklings as servants.

"Than let's march and greet our new master!"

The way back is much slower, as you aren't running this time. But slower being the relative, a man would still say it was fast. Orcs were always superior to the tark's when moving, especially at night. Soon enough you see the fire of your new master and his shadow like silhouette against it. In his one hand the staff you know already, in the other a mighty sword of elven made that was glowing in evil, blue light that hurt when you looked to long at it. How your new master had come to such a terrible weapon of the enemy is behind you, but on the other hand, he is cunning - and you've managed the same feed.

"So, you return. And with friends." The Lord says with the same kind voice as he had used when speaking with you. But you noticed his glances towards the Uruk's. "Is this an ambush?"

You're terrified by this accusation and immediately fall to your knees. "Of course not, kindest master! These are Uruk's who I met on my way to you, who also wish to serve you in your fight against the pretender Sauron!"

"Oh?" He looks towards the others and lifts an eyebrow. "Do you wish to serve me also? Or don't you want to be free, without a master sending you to your deaths? I'm curious."

You don't know what to say and can only hope Grashki doesn't fall for the trap. As strong as the Uruk was, he wasn't that bright you had noticed. If he now answered in the wrong way, he will condemn you all to the worst death that was possible. A Dark Lord would never allow his servants to be free.

"Don't know, never had the choice, to be honest." Grashki says in a confused tone. Like you, he had never wasted a single thought on the idea to do something else than serve a Dark Lord. "Wouldn't know what to do if not fighting tarks. Maybe hunting?"

"Hunting? Hm, I suppose that is something that could be enjoyable. Why don't you just do that?"

"Don't know, master. Do you want me to hunt something?"

The old man huffed. "Maybe one day, you still have much to learn. Now, I do think you wanted to gift me something. Why don't you show it to me?"

You don't have time to feel relief that Grashki somehow had managed not to kill you all with his stupid response. Slowly and carefully, you remove the racks and close your eyes not to be blinded by the evil, dreadful light that shines from the speartip as the last of the racks fall down. You can feel how the spear tip wants nothing more than kill you, and you barely manage not to begin to shake by the power hatred the ancient elven weapon was radiating towards your kin.

"Aeglos." The Dark Lord mutters in disbelief as his eyes settle on your gift for him. Carefully he takes the speartip from the racks and your hand. He looks with wonder at it and then at you. "I had my doubts about you, but Sauron would never allow this to get back into the hands of his enemies. You've proven yourself, orc, that you're an enemy of Sauron. But this doesn't mean that I will accept your service."

"What … what can I do that you will accept my service, master?"

"Hm, let me think ..."

What does your new master wish from you?

[ ] "The passes over the Misty Mountains aren't free for travelers, change that."

[ ] "North of here are the Trollshaws, has somethings put them at a fancy."

[ ] Write-in

EDIT: Tipos