Before he departed the cavern, Handorth stood in the cave mouth and with the red light of dusk streaming in from behind him, he yelled to the gathered Orcs and Easterlings in a booming and terrible voice:
"The Elf will try to turn you against each other. Remember, we are allies in this war, and we cannot succeed unless we fight as one. Therefore, above all make sure that the prisoner does not ensnare you in his designs. He is clever. Be on your guard!"
With that, Handorth went out to join his assembled patrol. A number of Orcs had turned out to go with them. Handorth mounted a rocky outcropping and the patrol looked up at him.
"The city of the tree-people is ahead. The Eye of the Dark Lord is upon us! He will remember our deeds! Go!"
The Easterlings and Orcs charged at once, heading north-west and moving as quickly as their limbs could move them. Handorth followed them and for the next several hours they ran and Handorth listened to the grunting and growling of the other fighters as they went. The red sun began to fade...
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Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? They have passed like rain on the mountains. Like wind in the meadow. The days have gone down in the west. Behind the hills, into shadow.
How did it come to this?
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