[Novnarwen]

Rhând

He was dragged forth by horror. The horror the orcs represented, and partly the horror from this unknown territory; this strange land. He marched in the front, having the orcs behind him.

Except from the sound of their feet treading the hard ground, it was dead silent. It was this odd sort of silence that made the Haradrim nervous. Was there no other living thing in this land? Was there no one except them, who were breathing this very air? He slowed down, feeling his legs aching. He was not used at walking for ages at a time. After being locked up for several months, this type of gymnastics was terribly heavy on him.

"Rat! Slow down once more, and you'll be meat tonigh'!" It was Lurg speaking. The gigantic figure trotted up to Rhând's side and gave him an evil look. The Orc drew his blade, holding it in his right hand, pointing threateningly at Rhând. He realised his mistake, but why should he be bossed around? He was a Haradrim! He was a faithful servant! If ever this came out when he turned home, that he had been under command of some stupid Orcs, he would never be respected again! Orcs were stupid! Rhând was not.

"I will be no one's meat!" he said sternly, his first vision of Lurg coming to mind; Lurg had been running out of the courtyard like a desperate ape, afraid that the scary prisoners would kill him. He grinned to himself, looking at Lurg who gave him yet another of his evil looks.

With a deep breathe, scared that all of this could lead to a wrong end, he spoke again: "You listen to me! I know where these prisoners are. You don't! Neither of you do! Tell me, what happens to you if you come back with no prisoners? Do you think your master will reward you with a grand prize?" He looked at them, noticing them paying attention. "You know what I think? If you don't find these prisoners, and come back with nothing . . . all of you will be fed to the dogs... or the other orcs.. All this will happen before either of you can even say the word meat!!. Now, imagine that!"

There was a loud gasp. This speech seemed to have put a fright into some of them. Rhând gazed about, not yet satisfied however. He would have to make it perfectly clear. He was their master; without him they would be lost.

Without a warning, Lurg grabbed a hold of Rhând. "He's fooling you! I say, let's kill him now! We don't need him!" A loud chorus of rough voices surprised the Haradrim, who had almost been certain that all of this was going his way. Rhând looked alarmingly around. If he didn't say something now to save himself, Lurg's blade would be the last thing he would ever see.

"Shut up, Lurg!” he said, without thinking. He cursed in his native tongue. “I have seen you before. Only, last time you weren't that tough. You ran out of the courtyard surrounding the Tower, like a frightened child. You couldn't catch any of us that time. What makes you think you can catch any of the prisoners now? You caught me, because I wanted to. I'm a Haradrim, I'm a servant. The others, who are most definitely not servants of Him, will be impossible to catch ... unless, you keep me alive. They are smart. But we are too. Let's catch these dirty beings. You'll get your reward," Rhând said, looking at each and every, "and I'll get mine."

The orc released his grip around Rhând's neck. Lurg frowned. He is probably angry about me telling the others he ran away, Rhând thought. Even though it hadn't gained popularity with Lurg, it had to some extent with the others. Finally, a pathetic side of their always so dangerous superior orc, Lurg, had been revealed to them. I guess they feel relieved, just as I do.

Looking around once more, he realised that there was no way out of this; he would have to lead the way. He was surrounded by these stupid creatures, which were aware of his existence. If he didn't keep his promise and tried tricking them, they would certainly kill him, and without hesitation. Yes, he would have to accept this; the orcs were the allies he had longed for. They would help him to success; to Him.