| Subject: Dark Forces Rising |
Author:
Ozlug
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Date Posted: 21:51:56 06/21/02 Fri
The dark shadows of the great halls stretched high to the ink black ceilings. Ozlug
lopped through the huge expanses, darkness meant nothing to him. His large eyes
gleamed in the dim light highlighting the bluish tinge of his skin. He approached the
main staircase where a tall figure stood wrapped in a black cloak. The figure’s face
was hidden in shadow, the voice was harsh and cruel.
“You are late” it stated. Ozlug bowed before the figure, long bony fingers sweeping
the floor.
“I appologise, your greatness” It was better not to argue. This messanger for the dark
lord had already disposed of 3 Orc captains, none of whom were now fit for service.
The silence lengthened. Ozlug waited, breathing heavily. He smeared the snot
dribbling from his nose across his face with his arm, but sensing that the messanger
was also waiting, he decided to contribute information.
“My troops are ready and waiting for your command, my lord” he grunted. The
hooded face rose slightly, but still no face was seen.
“How many” the messanger barked.
“A thousand my Lord, as you ordered. Another two thousand are preparing for the
next wave of attack.” Ozlug waited for a response. He hated grovelling before this
creature, but one day he would be more powerful. All would respect him or die.
“Good” murmered the messanger. “The dark lord wishes you to attack Minas Tirith at
once. A seperate attack is already heading for the city of the elves.
The king has become weak and his people are beginning to turn against him. Now is
the perfect time to attack. You will take over the city, kill all who oppose you, destroy
all buildings and capture the king alive if possible. Your job will be made easier. The
dark lord has employed someone to stir up trouble and confusion. From what I hear,
she appears to be doing a good job. Her name is Brooke, you will not harm her.” He
stopped to see if the Orc was following his stream of instructions.
“As you wish my lord, as long as she does not interfere with my orders” Ozlug
replied, knowing exactly what the messanger wished to hear. Once he was away from
the dark palace in charge of an army of 1,000 Orcs, he could do as he wished.
“Then go” The hooded messanger ordered “and do not fail.”
Ozlug bowed low and scurried away. At last, he would have the oppotunity to kill
again. His Orcs would respond well for the promise of man-flesh to eat.
And nothing... would stop him.
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