[CaptainofDespair]

A bedraggled horse slowly passed by the lines of soldiers, and they stood in silence, alert and fearful. It had been a hard ride for Angoroth, but it was necessary. Everything was necessary now. Another horse, though slightly smaller, trotted up beside the Dark Lord’s servant. The Easterling captain charged with bringing the army to Eregion, was ever fearful, more so than any of his men, for a great burden was rested upon his shoulders.

“Milord, the army is assembled, and prepared to march to the City.”

“I can see that, Captain,” was the monotonous, and yet angered response from the Commander of Mordor’s Armies. “You are also late, Captain. You were to have arrived here three days ago.”

“I know, milord. But, we were del…” His response was cut off by a simple gesture from the black armored Commander. “I do not want excuses. You were given a relatively simple task. You failed. And failure is rewarded in only one way, Captain.” Another gesture from the Maiar summoned up a squad of horsemen, who escorted the ex-commander from the presence of his lord. Turning to one of the other horsemen, who remained behind to receive further orders for the execution of the captain, Angoroth spoke. “You, lieutenant, are the new captain. Do not fail me.”

*~*

The army had marched only a few more miles into Eregion, and had now set up a large, bustling camp only a two day march from Ost-in-Edhil. Reinforcements arrived daily, they were reserves intended to depart with the army, but could not be mustered in time. Scouts were also being dispatched, to locate Elven resistance forces outside the city, and to locate forward expeditions; orcs and men sent months ahead of the main force to cause havoc and pave the way for the main battle group.

Word now reached Angoroth that a sizeable force of orcs was just arriving in the camp, one that had been out raiding and pillaging in recent weeks. His new captain now reported this to him, with great angst, for he knew the mind of his commander, and his thoughts on Orcs. “Milord, a large contingent of orcs has arrived in the camp. They are seeking accommodations, and they wish to join our battle force.” Angoroth rose up from his chair, from which he had spent many hours in quiet contemplation, and addressed his underling. “It’s as if we didn’t have enough of that rabble.” Sighing, he finished his thought, “Very well, send them to the western palisade with all the other orcs.” The captain nodded eagerly, bowed, and casually left the presence of his commander, careful to not show too much fear.

The hustle and bustle of the large camp was a welcome sight to most of the arriving orcs, who much desired rest and food. The orc leadership, save for a few who were needed to sort their troops, was escorted to meet with their new commander. The Easterling captain, whom Angoroth did not yet know the name of, presented them in proper fashion to his master. “Milord,” piped up the captain, “these are the orcs who have led much of the havoc of the past few weeks in Eregion.” He paused, allowing his lord to scan the motley group. “They are, in order of rank, Glûtkask and Kharn, both of whom led the forces against the Witch’s Elves, milord.” Angoroth, with his barbute helm obscuring his face, only nodded and uttered a short message. “Thank you, captain. You may return to your duties.” The captain bowed, and retreated at his dismissal.

With the departure of his captain, Angoroth was left alone with the new orcs. Masking his disgust for the creatures, he began a sort of dialogue with them. “I am Angoroth, the Hand of Sauron, tasked with the destruction of Eregion. Whatever your orders were prior to this, they are to be forgotten. Only mine are to be followed.” The orcs muttered and nodded grimly. “Excellent. Now, rest yourselves, for war comes soon.”