One of the orcs gave a yell as he reached the crest of the hill. Morachion scrambled up to find out what the orc had seen. The valley had been aswarm with orcs, but the orcs were gone. Morachion panicked for a moment. They had gone and left him behind!
Something caught his eye. Off in the distance, there was a small column of Orcs, marching east. There was a group of about the same size behind, some tied, some in makeshift chains. They were ragged and miserable-looking.
Morachion waved the two orcs carrying Barodir on ahead. He scuttled after them. Being free of the dense vegetation, he had time to look at his wounded front arm. It wasn't bleeding as badly as before, but green fluid was still surrounding the spot where the end of his arm was. A new claw would grow someday, but his arm would be abnormally short for the rest of his life. He tried to put this out of his mind, and walked on.
[ April 09, 2003: Message edited by: Meoshi ]
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