[Alatariel Telemnar]

The army marched forward slowly, it seemed; Urkrásh stood slightly behind his master, but both of them in the center and front of the army.

‘Urkrásh, why are the members of my glorious race such imbeciles?’ Thrákmazh said, looking out at the column of uruks. Urkrásh glanced at Thrákmazh, unsure of what to say, and slightly confused by the question. Searching for an answer, he quickly looked back and forth to leaves and stones on the ground.

‘Umm…’ he said, still trying to think of an answer that would not anger his master. He slowly began to loose the question. Not wanting to stall to long or ask again, he murmured, ‘I don’t know, sir.’ His voice was only loud enough to be heard over the sounds the uruks were making.

He nearly winced waiting for his master’s response to his reply. He watched him out of the corner of his eye as he dropped the hand that signaled some slow uruks, his armor rattling as he did so. Thrákmazh turned to him, the slit in his eye grew smaller as he focused on Urkrásh. He was just about to cower in fear from the gaze when his master turned back and looked upon the army that slowly progressed forward. Urkrásh looked upon them too; his eyes pacing back and forth along the columns, wondering what his master had meant.

‘It’s because they don’t have a purpose, none at all. They serve like blind rats, being directed by those with high ranks and decorations to spare. I think I might’ve been like that once, but that changed soon enough. They’re just blind, aimless worms that do what they’re told when they feel like it. No loyalty, no devotion, no sense of purpose at all. They probably have no aspirations, no hopes, and I don’t blame ‘em. They’ll never get anywhere, not the way they conduct themselves. You and I, on the other hand, orcs like us are different. And, Urkrásh, if you serve with loyalty and show your mettle for the cause, you’d get somewhere, and any of that lot might too if they did so. But, most of ‘em won’t do anything to get anywhere, and they’ll stay in the filth they made. When they see the elves, they’ll fight all the same, and they might get some pleasure out of it, but no one will remember them, or care about them, or know their names,’ he said, not looking back at Urkrásh, but still scanning the troops.

Urkrásh looked back at him, trying to think over what he was saying. Pondering this, Urkrásh wondered if he would ever be remembered, even by his master, if he ever left him. He blinked a bit, surprised at the speech his master had given. He was also surprised to be compared to someone with such a high ranking as Thrákmazh, and to be considered like him. Urkrásh had never tried to get anywhere. He had never wanted to be in charge of a mass number. But, he had served with loyalty and tried to please whenever he could: mostly because he just wanted to save his own hide, but he did it just the same. He would get pleasure out of fighting the elves. His right hand twitched at the thought, limp and barely useful, it lamed him, a scar that time does not heal. Looking back at the uruks, Urkrásh watched them. Disorderly they were, the lines were not perfect, yet you could make out each individual column, and some uruks did not look so willing, slow and sluggish, grunting or snarling now and then; it seemed as none had taken notice of Thrákmazh’s speech. But Urkrásh found himself replying with an ‘I see, sir’ before he had truly understood what his master meant.

I’m sure,’ Thrákmazh responded. He stepped back after his time scanning the troops and faced Urkrásh, ‘Urkrásh, I want you to do something for me.’ Urkrásh straightened up a bit, ready to please, nodding his head vigorously, ‘Anything, sir.’

‘I want you to take command of this column, just temporary command, and make sure nothing happens in my absence.’ Urkrásh jumped at his, having never been put in charge of such a big number, and back in his mind was doubt and uncertainty. Thrákmazh continued, ‘We have to see to this task with those accursed men, so I might as well see who they are. I’m going to scope them out, see what I can learn. I think that you are capable of making sure nothing undesirable happens.’

Urkrásh blinked a few times, looking at his master. ‘Are you sure?’ He said, not sure of what else to say. The task of commanding a whole column was never something he was commanded, maybe an orc or two, but never a mass of uruks. Thrákmazh glared at him, ‘I’m always sure about whatever I say and whatever I do.’

Taking a deep breath, he replied ‘Yes, Thrákmazh’ and bowed his head.

Urkrásh watched as Thrákmazh spun around and slowly rode away and disappeared among the uruks and then men, most of the uruks making sure they moved out of his way as he passed. After he had passed them, Urkrásh noticed the columns of uruks became less and less orderly. He grunted to himself, wondering why Thrákmazh chose him for the job: there were other uruks and orcs that would fit it better. His eyes paced back and forth, watching the uruks, waiting for something to go wrong, trying to remember all the signals he had seen used in the past. Urkrásh began to plan out every scenario in his mind, what he were to do if something went wrong.