[CaptainofDespair]

Wandering between condemned corridors and broken hallways just off the courtyard entrance of Cirith Ungol, the two Silvan Elves searched for weapons and armor more befitting of their stature. Raeis had proven herself to be a quick elf, much faster than her male counterpart, even after her long captivity. Whilst he was struggling to keep up with his new friend, Morgoroth noticed a small set of doors blocked by the mangled body of an orc grunt. He stopped his pursuit of the female Silvan, and studied the door. Deciding to see what was within, he first called Raeis to make her way back. She did so, but with a slight sense of hesitation, wondering what the male elf could possibly want.

“These doors may hold something useful for us,” he murmured to her. “Haradrim and other foul Men were sometimes stationed in the tower, as a way of keeping the orcs from killing each other. They may have stored weapons of use to us here.” Raeis nodded, and without saying a word, they pushed the heavy wooden doors apart, revealing a dark room behind, a small armory. Very little of use was contained inside, save for a few broken scimitars, and shattered spears. Morgoroth had become disheartened at this sight, and turned to leave the room, and continue with his search, when he heard a crash behind him. Raeis had been prodding through a stack of battered crates, when a few had come tumbling down, smashing into broken shards and sharp splinters on the stone floor. Contained within the debris of the crates, were quivers of arrows, and a few small bows, suitable enough for the Elves. Amongst the ruins of the other crates, were a few long knives, and so these were taken up, and split between the two Silvans.

As the two began to make their way out of the dilapidated, and nearly collapsed room, the heavy thuds of an orc were heard rushing into the courtyard. By the time Raeis and Morgoroth had forced their way out of the room, and into the corridor, the horrendous sounds of the orc had died off. The two began to make their way to the large wooden door that separated the dark air of Mordor, from the dank, blood-filled air of the Tower, when they spotted one of the three dwarves. He was rushing down the stairs, obviously chasing the orc who had fled out into the courtyard. Morgoroth made no motion to alert the dwarf, and simply let him continue his fruitless search for the now-gone orc. When the dwarf had passed, the dark Elf turned his attention back to the search for some form of garb that he could shroud himself in. Raeis must have known his thoughts, or had been prepared for the same task, for no sooner had the dwarf left, that she had begun making her way to the courtyard. For the second time that day, he could only follow his new accomplice.

Reaching the doorway into the courtyard, Morgoroth halted. The heavy, ash filled atmosphere that made up Mordor, hit him like brick. He had become accustomed to the relative cleanness of the Tower, and the open, yet dirty air of the Black Lands, was something his nostrils could not take. Reaching into a pouch on his hip, he pulled forth a piece of tattered cloth. He wrapped this around his face, much as he had seen the Haradrim do. The cloth, that now surrounded his face, managed to filter much of the dirt in the air, and he was able to take a step into the courtyard once more. He soon caught up to Raeis, who was pilfering the bodies of the orcs foo some form of protective wares. She had cast aside a few leather cuirasses, which had been too large for her torso. Skimming through these, Morgoroth took up one that had looked his size. Upon putting it on, the leather was soon found to be close-fitting, and allowed for a greater deal of freedom in his movement. From another orc body, he gathered a cloak, which he draped over his shoulders, refraining from using his hood. Raeis soon found some garments of her build, and quickly put them on. When all was said and done, Morgoroth dragged his tired form over to a corner of the yard, and sat himself down, seeking a bit of rest. He draped his new bow across his knees, and drifted into a dazed, dream-like state, preparing his body and mind for the torturous journey ahead.