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‘Psst!’ Broga crooked a thick finger at his brother, motioning for him to come nearer. ‘I hear ‘em movin’ about up there.’ The two brothers, with their basalt colored, scaly skin blend in quite well with the rocky face of the hill on the north side. Helpful too was the fact that a small ledge jutted out for a short way along the hill side, blocking the view of anyone looking down from the top.
‘Quiet!’ hissed Grimm. ‘One of them sharp-eared Elves is up there. This is supposed to be a surprise.’ Broga placed his finger over his pursed lips and nodded his head.
The chief had gone over his plan a number of times with those Orcs and Trolls who were to make the first wave of attack. Grimm and his brother would climb up to the northwest end while four Orcs would make their way to the opposite end. The Trolls would arrive first and take care of the horses, distracting the Men and Elf, while the four Orcs would sweep in and surprise them from behind. The other two Trolls and several more Orc groups would add reinforcement as the other groups of men and Elves arrived.
Grimm motioned for his brother to start on up. ‘You sure there’s just the three of them up there?’ Broga asked one last time. ‘Yes, you lackwit! We scouted the area below last night, remember. It was just them three across the road as we could find.’ Broga’s brow furrowed. ‘And they was eatin’ them rabbits, wasn’t they?’ Grim sighed quietly and nodded his head yes. ‘You just take care of their horses, run ‘em off, have a little fun with ‘em. Just watch out for that Elf and his bow.’ It was Broga’s turn now to nod his head. He rubbed his right shoulder with his hand, remembering a particularly painful encounter with a number of Elves and their sharp, hurtful arrows.
Broga peeked over the top of the hill seeking to find where the horses had been put. He and Grimm inched a little westward then heaved themselves up over the rim of the plateau, just a little way from their objective. Broga grinned as the horses reared up and pawed the air wildly, neighing their disgust and fear at the approach of the Trolls. To Grimm’s great delight, a Ranger had stopped dead in his tracks as the two heaved themselves to their feet and lumbered with club and hammer toward the three wild-eyed horses.
‘Trolls!’ they heard the man shout, noting his two companions scrambling to their feet.
‘Get them oatburners, brother!’ Grimm told his brother, pointing his thumb toward the horses. He thumped his great hammer into the hard-hided palm of his hand. ‘I’m gonna have me some fun with one of them Duneydain boys!’
Osric and Aidwain were rushing to the aid of Veryadan, sword and bow at the ready. Grimm swatted an arrow away from the Elf’s bow and laughed loudly as he advance on the trio, hammer flailing.
From behind the three companions came the harsh sound of Orcish battle cries. The four Orcs had crested the hill and were rushing to battle.
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