“Wake up maggots!” growled the Captain when he entered the Mess Hall in the depths of Isengard. A drunken orc raised its head and narrowed his eyes to look who it was with a low grunt of dissatisfaction to the way that he was awoken. The angry captain walked up to him, grabbed the orc’s neck and with a violent thrust he slammed the drunkard’s head on the table, making the plates and mugs on it bounce off it and fall and scatter all around. Half of those that were around stood up in attention, rest started stumbling around, making their way out of the hall.
One by one the orcs stood in line, some were standing tall and fierce, ready to go out and fight, others were almost asleep, not caring about what was going on, they just followed on. Some half-orcs where there as well, with eyes narrowed and full of hatred, listening carefully to the captain. The tall and dark brown orc moved up and down, looking at the soldiers angrily and started growling, a punch would be sent here and there if he deemed that someone wasn’t paying attention.
“We’re going North boys, in a land called the Lone-Lands, there are more of our brothers there and we’ll unite with. We’ll remain in those camps and get new orders there; rumours say that we’re going further North. We’ll march by nightfall and go on without a stop. We’ll move by daylight too and run during the night. Orders are that we must get there as soon as possible and with secrecy. If I see or hear any of you doing something that will get us seen we’ll feast on his flesh!” and he punched an orc that raised its head and looked at the tower absent mindedly, at once the orc stood tall without a word. The Captain kept walking to and fro, in front of the company, feeling proud that he was chosen for the mission.
“Be happy that the master chose us, we’ll be rewarded greatly when the time of the assault comes!” and with a loud grunt he sent them back into the Halls to get ready, put on their armours and get their weapons. The Captain himself made his way to the hall with the other Captains; there he saw two of them arguing about whose company was stronger, while a shorter, green and goblin-like laughed at both, saying that despite their strength they lacked wits. The tall Captain pushed the goblin away from the door with a look of contempt on its face, the goblin stumbled ahead and fell on the map table, and it turned around and looked at the orc with eyes full of hatred. It drew its short-sword ready to leap on the orc. That moment a bleeding goblin flew into the hall, breaking the door, the Captains ran outside to see what was happening.
A company of goblins and two companies of orcs started fighting with each other, everyone was hitting everyone and the commotion started to spread throughout the camps within the walls. The Captains ran and started growling their orders to their soldiers; one of them even stabbed two or three as a discipline measure. The tall orc looked and shook his head at that sight and his right hand instinctly took hold of the hilt of his long sword. In his mind he knew that if that would happen in his company he’d have their heads at once. The orc then turned around and found a map of the Lone-Lands, he took it in his left hand and looked at it with a smirk, his eyes then darted on the spot named as Bree and gleamed…
