The Fellowship of the Fourth Age (Part 1): A New Beginning RPG

[Undómë]

‘Let go of the man, or I will personally make things very unpleasant for you.’

Zagra quailed at the tall man’s threatening words and demeanor. Having no knowledge of Elves, she made no difference between him and the other men. Rather she sorted him into what she knew, what was familiar. ‘Overseer,’ she whispered, dropping the shovel in the dirt. It sent wisps of dust curling up her legs as she drew in upon herself, trying to make herself small, unnoticeable. She whimpered, shivering where she stood.

‘Overseer! Sha!!’ Mazhg snorted, motioning for her sister come stand beside her. She put her free arm protectively about Zagra. ‘Great big stupid man! Big yeller, that’s all he is. Pretty face windbag. All talk he’ll be.’ She put on her fiercest face, wondering all the while if perhaps she and Zagra should just take to their heels right now.

‘You . . . man,’ she hissed under her breath at Rôg. ‘Are we done now? They going to do what that loud one tells ‘em?’ She nudged him with her knee. ‘Maybe you take the first step, huh?’

[piosenniel]

‘Swords down, step back!’ Rôg raised up his head and looked toward the ragged line of Orcs and their would-be executioners. The men did not respond at once to the Elf’s command. Their eyes, instead, seemed to flick from one to another and linger then with a certain distaste on the Orc males. Rôg’s own eyes slid up with a quick glance to see how his two captors were taking in the threat Lindir had made to them. Taking in their appearance and attire he wondered what sort of unpleasantness anyone might think could exceed that which they had already endured.

‘You . . . man,’ the fiercer one had hissed at Rôg. ‘Are we done now? They going to do what that loud one tells ‘em?’

‘I don’t know,’ he spoke low. He dared a small, warm smile up at the more nervous of the Orcs. ‘I think you’re right, though,’ he went on quickly, to the other one. He lumbered up to his feet, making it look as if it took an effort to do so. ‘I’ll make the first move.’

He took a few stumbling steps away from his captors, waving his arms in the air to show he was no longer held. The hesitation previously seen by him seemed to fade away as he drew nearer. Some of the men stepped forward to lend him support and others of the fellowship stepped away from the Orc captives, their knives no longer threatening. Though, not all put away their blades altogether. What the Orcs were doing, he could not say. His view of them was blocked as some of his companions gathered about him.

Somewhere to his left, an anxious and insistent voice called out loudly. The attention of the group turned toward the source as they struggled to sort out the reasons for such alarm.....

[Nogrod]

Gwerr knew that humans could be weird. Sometimes the humans acted straightforwardly and reasonably - like these men who were to execute them and to be done away with them. That was the kind of thinking Gwerr understood. If there was a problem you dealt with it the most efficient way. Plain and simple. He had killed too many during his life to think of it as anything else than just a natural thing. When there's a conflict of interests too deep one kills or gets killed. This time the dices had rolled finally against him, Ishkur and Colagar who had managed to evade death so long. Anyway it had to happen one day and this day was no worse day for it than any other.

But then there were these other humans who complicated matters and took their considerations to absurdities.

Sure one lived and let live. Gwerr was too old and experienced to enjoy killing at whim or to be reckless with decisions concerning letting others live. The amusement of violence had faded away millenia ago and he had learned that with bad luck a haphazard kill might haunt one afterwards as real threats. But if there was an actual threat then getting rid of it was as natural as scratching an itching part of your body. A natural law of life and death.

What was the most astonishing to Gwerr was that some humans seemed to waver between being sensible and fools. Like this Beloan who seemed to be somekind of a leader here, or his kind of apprentice, the young guy. That was not the case with the one-armed man and the bearded giant. They were men he understood and which he could respect as enemies.

But then everything went crazy. First there was Grask. He could be apologised as he was both young and fool and as his act showed some spirit. But what about these two females, Urga and Ungolt, what were they thinking? Pleading for mercy? Giving themselves up to the mercy of the enemy without a fight? Had they lost their minds? Had they become these wavering humans? Did he know them anymore? Why had they been picked to their runaway bunch in the first place?

Then there was the show Zagra and Mazhg made with one of the men. That was more like it even if it was downright weird and Gwerr couldn't fathom the logic there... Why take the risk as they could've just followed these humans stealing goods every now and then to stay alive until they reached safer environments?

But it gave Gwerr the hope. It gave him the hope of a chance to avoid death one more time...

As soon as Rôg had taken his first wawering steps towards the crowd and wawed his hands the men took a step back releasing their blades from their throats. Gwerr decided to take his chances and stood up as well. As he went up he shoved Ishkur as hard as he could with his shoulder with his arms tied behind his back.

"Quickly now you maggot... they may change their minds. We should be the first ones clear of this", he hissed from between his teeth. "We should not let that female mock us that way another time..."

He stood upright and started walking towards Rôg. He heard Ishkur was following him so he didn't need to look back. There was no sound of any human coming after him.

They walked towards Rôg. Gwerr could sense that at least some of the other orcs had stood up as well. He looked at the man coming towards him. Rôg looked like a tough man who clearly was in command of himself. Too much indeed! There's something wrong here!

Gwerr went to his instincts. They called him to stay calm and to continue. There was something that was very wrong here but it was not against them.

There was a loud yell. "So we just let them go like that?" It was Qat who watched the orcs starting their silent march away from the execution. "Was there a deal we'd change them to this easterling, now was there? I never made one!"

Just a few steps... just a few steps... pass this man and then I can make a run...

[Tevildo]

Azhar had scavanged through the camp and then raced back to the pit carrying a short length of rope and several blankets. She attached the end of the rope to the grating and then tied on the blankets, but was disappointed to find that her contrived ladder only reached half way down.

Azhar called to Athwen and Carl that she was going to get help and then sprinted over to where the rest of the camp was gathered. Pushing into the middle of the circle, she grabbed Dorran by the shoulder and blurted out an explanation, "Athwen and the children. They're in the pit. There's too much water. Carl came but there's no rope and no way out. The orc girl rescued Ina, but now she's stuck too...."

Before she could explain anything more, Dorran hurried off towards the cave. Others raced around to search for supplies and then followed in his footsteps. The first thing that registered in Dorran's mind was that Athwen and the children were in danger. After that, he fleetingly considered that Azhar must have been confused, since he knew no orc would ever save a human child.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Carl stared back at Gwella's glimmering eyes in disbelief, a wry smile rising to his lips despite the unusually pressing situation they were all caught up in. “Aye, the next time I set about being stuck in a floody hole with an orc and a gaggle of children, you may be certain I'll bring all the rope you could possibly want! But just now I'm highly curious if there might possibly BE a next time!”

“Shh, Carl,” Athwen cautioned the hobbit, as she helped the children searching for higher finger holds in the walls. “You'll frighten them even further.”

“Yes, hobbits are infinitely more frightening then goblins!” Carl muttered, his fingers aching as he clung to the stone wall near Gwella. The bitterness in his speech was prompted by feelings of a responsibility that went deeper than even this most candid orc had touched on. He was painfully aware that if anything were to happened to Azhar, it was very likely that most if not all of them would drown, for the meager finger holds did not appear to extend all the way to the opening. And so it came as a great relief to see the young girl's face peering down from overhead, unfurling the lengths of dusty cloth she had found.

Too short! He could hardly believe it!. But at least now if the water were to grow too high they could hold on to the blankets like so many fish on a string. But of course the weight of all those fish might make it hard to remove the grate....

When Azhar had disappeared again, it seemed that he could hear the panting breath of everyone, echoing in the darkness. Oh Azhar, he thought fervently, Please bring back someone big and burly like that fellow Qat, and not another stupid little man!

[Undómë]

‘Stupid men!’

Mazhg spit in the dust as if to clear the word ‘men’ from her mouth. It was an inclusive comment taking in both Men and men. This was not how it was supposed to have gone. Once the Orc males had been freed by the Men they should have gotten away as quickly as their big feet could carry them. Far away from the stinking Men and their problems.

‘Got plenty our own problems,’ she muttered as her eyes followed the unfolding events a little ways away from her. ‘Not good be taking on theirs, too.’

‘But Mazhg...’ Zagra nudged her sister on the shoulder, moving close beside her. She peered through the thin branches of the scraggly bush they had crept behind when the commotion had started and their plans gone awry. ‘Not just Men’s problems. Girl there, too. Ours.’ Her thin finger pointed to where the rescued children had been drawn up, followed now by a little man. She raised her chin peering intently at the rim of the hole. ‘Where he is?’ she asked, furrowing her brow. ‘That Gwerr.’

‘Got his own hide stuck down that hole now I’m thinking.’ With a snort, Mazhg spit emphatically once again. ‘Stupid men!’

[Durelin]

Khamir

The women, children, and wounded were not in danger from orcs – there was no ambush, there was just…water! Khamir was trying to find the best way to lower himself down into the pit, or at least a point where the fall seemed shortest, when a rope was thrown next to him and lowered down toward the rising water. Before he could take a step toward the rope, reaching out with his one arm, an orc appeared between him and the rope. His hand brushed against the orc’s arm before it lowered itself, grabbing onto the rope.

Khamir almost reached for the knife at his belt, but another reflex overcame that instinct, and he grasped the rope above where the orc held it, bracing himself at the edge of the pit along with several others. The Southron felt strangely calm as he watched the orc retrieve Carl and the children, including a young orc, one or two at a time. He obeyed every one of the orc’s commands with the others who helped hold the rope behind him. He was empty. He felt tired, though his grip never lessened. The orc had two arms, two hands to grab the trapped children and hobbit. He would not have been of as much help, not with one. It was common sense. He was doing what he could.

Finally it seemed that the orc was alone in the pit, and for a moment or two Khamir simply watched the water rise around the creature. It stood, as well as it could, the water quickly approaching its shoulders, and seemed to avoid looking at those above the pit. Khamir watched, as if simply curious. They could just let it drown here, and be rid of one of them. It was a shame that they had moved the orcs out of the pit to kill them, wasn’t it?

“Grab the rope!” he heard a familiar voice shout from behind him. It was Beloan. “Give him a bit more; get it to him!” Khamir obeyed.

“We’ll pull you up!” came another voice – Adnan’s.

Adnan recognized the stubborn pride in the orc, and knew he needed telling.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Vrór

Vrór had done his best to help Athwen and the others from the start, though he had felt simply in the way until someone thought to try lowering a blanket that Carl and the children could grab onto. But it was not long enough and the water was rushing in fast and fiercely, quickly making it nearly impossible for those trapped to maintain any sort of footing.

The Dwarf was very startled by the sudden presence of two orcs. He realized with some surprise that the orcs had been held captive in the pit. Why had they been taken out? And what…? Vrór felt fear rise in his chest, but the orcs charged up to the pit not with fists bared – one carried a rope.

Determined to be of use, Vrór’s grip remained tight and he worked diligently with the others to catch the rescued and pull them out to safety. When the others slackened their hold on the blanket as it seemed the consensus was that all those trapped were out of the pit, Vrór went to see to Carl, finding another blanket to bring to the hobbit. Of course someone had already seen to that, but he offered the blanket to Carl and the poor girl sitting next to him.

“You alright, Carl? By Durin’s beard, what happened?” Vrór was pretty sure he knew what had happened, and he felt responsible for letting it. He should have checked on the soundness of the plug hours ago, but no – he had still been lazing around in his blankets. He was not that weak, that he could not at least do a simple inspection! But as the rush of urgency wore off, the Dwarf plopped down by the hobbit and breathed heavily, his limbs aching and his head clouded.

[piosenniel]

The crisis seemed well in hand. At any rate Rôg felt he would most likely be nothing but in the way. He skirted the edges of area looking for a place to keep an eye on things and remain inobtrusive.

Ah! What’s this?

Rôg came up softly behind the two Orcs and hunkered down on his soles just a little way behind them. ‘Stupid men!’ he heard the one say, the same one who had seemed in charge beforehand. From what he followed of their harsh and grating talk, he understood that they were unhappy with how events had unfolded, and especially with how ‘the men’ had handled things.

He frowned, wondering at the disparaging use of the word ‘men’ by the one young male. Not a comment it seemed on the actions of the Men, but more likely on those of their own Orc group. Odd! And then there was the way in which the two young males crouched down close to each other, in a familiar way. Brothers? Is that what they were?

‘No!’ The explanation hit him suddenly. These two were female orcs!

‘Ladies?’ he ventured.....

[Folwren]

Athwen darted like a worried mother duck from one child to the next. She only stopping when short breath and burning muscles forced her to, and only for the slightest pause. The rate of the rising water alarmed her, though, had she stopped to think, she would have known that it would not have completely covered them in many minutes. But all the same, those minutes were swiftly running out and as yet, no one had –

Her head turned suddenly upwards towards the opening. She heard her name called by that dear, familiar voice. Dorran was coming quickly, and calling her as he ran. She pushed off from the wall and struck out to the other side so that she could perch right below the opening.

“Athwen!” he called out once more, stopping at the pit’s mouth.

“Yes, Dorran, I’m down here. Quickly, have you more rope or anything?”

“They’re coming with some. Who is down there with you?”

Athwen looked over her shoulder, trying to count quickly in the dimness. “Six – seven, I think,” she said. “Four children, an orc child, Carl, and me.” A shudder shook her body. She had not realized before how utterly cold the water was. “Hurry, Dorran,” she said, slipping away to help the children keep above the rising water. “We don’t have much time.”

[Durelin]

A small figure, a small voice though there was power behind it…it was just a child. An Orc, but a child. Khamir’s confusion and internal warring paralyzed him. He had no time to recover any of his wits before it was clear they were facing women and children, those that even men who spent the majority of their lives in the wastes of Mordor considered somehow naturally…innocent, bystanders, non-combatants. There was pleading, and talk of desiring peace, from creatures Khamir thought incapable of human, much less humane, emotions and desires.

They had always been animals to him. He guessed he had understood that they must procreate somehow, but he had never faced the possibility -- or the probability, rather -- of females, of children. They had not even been animals to him, really. They were even less than that, as even their instincts were corrupted. But…now what?

“How many of you are still skulking around?” he demanded, not ready to drop his guard. This had to be some ploy. They knew the females and children could distract them, confuse them. Beloan quickly pointed out that if there were many more around, the creatures wouldn’t have wasted their time with all of this. But only moments after the man had spoken, two more females arrived.

To make the scene more absurd, the new orcs apparently held the strange friend of the old man, Rog, as a captive. It was the man himself who spoke for them, declaring they wanted to trade prisoners. Ridiculous. Khamir let his eyes wander a moment, as if he was watching the scene unfold in an audience. He looked into the faces of Rog and his captors, then turned his eyes back to the other females and the male child, and then he looked down at the orc whose throat he touched with his knife. He seemed surprised, too.

Khamir laughed, though it sounded more like a cough or a grunt. It was a short laugh of release, and he let his arm drop. So many things didn’t seem to matter anymore, even if the orc whose throat he had been ready to slit turned and took him by the throat.

“Does anyone know where the wounded and the...children are?” he said with some difficulty. What were they doing? What were they going to do? It had been such an easy decision. It had…

Before anyone could respond, Lindir spoke up with command in his voice. Khamir eyed him and his eyes flashed with anger. He did not like this elf ordering his men around. My men? he asked himself, and felt he should be laughing again. The elf then ordered the orcs holding Rog to release him, and the man walked away from his captors after only a moment or two. Surely they weren’t really making the trade! Khamir didn’t even think of putting away his knife.

Khamir thought he heard someone shout or scream somewhere distant, but he was again distracted from what might be going on elsewhere in the camp. Some of the orcs who were to be executed only a short time ago began to get up and walk in the direction of the two females who had held Rog. No, this could not be happening. They were just going to let them go? How many lives were truly involved here? Not just the orcs, not just Rog’s…their actions here and now would affect the lives of other men in this land.

The one-armed man suddenly felt a great amount of urgency. He stood, gripping his knife, almost physically wavering between charging the formerly captive orcs and racing back to the camp to make sure all was safe.

When all was finally quiet for a moment - as uneasy a silence as when the men waited on Khamir’s signal - he was sure he heard a cry from the direction of the pit. Now he was sure.

“That is where the wounded and the children are,” Adnan spoke up, his voice louder than he thought it could be. Khamir was shocked to see the young man. He had been here? He would have seen…?

With one last glance toward the backs of the male orcs, Khamir rushed off in the direction of the pit, almost wishing for the days when he had no one to care about but himself.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Carl

It was the oddest sensation. Carl, who at this point was not much more than a head bobbing in the dark water, was just theorizing to Dorran on why the plug in the wall might be leaking, and speculating on whether or not the orcs might have had an inkling last night that this might happen, when a violent surge of water and stones suddenly dragged his feet abruptly and painfully out from under him, forcing his face into the current. Pulling himself upright with an effort, he coughed fitfully and tried to brace himself against the onslaught. A curtain of water fell about him like rain, and shaking his head to clear the stream that flowed into his eyes and mouth he saw one of the children drifting before him. As his arm darted out to grab the child's ragged shirt, he caught hold of the youngster only to have the powerful current pivot him around quickly, throwing the child against his chest. And like a door on well-greased hinges, the hobbit continued to swing until his back slammed against the unyielding stone wall.

It happened so quickly. As the furious water rose, Carl found it harder to concentrate. He heard the voices of Dorran and Athwen shouting to one another over the din, but he did not have much hope for the situation. Strong as Dorran was, he was the worse for wear after the battle, and their were so many of them in the pit, they certainly didn't have much time for dilly-dallying. Still urging the young boy who clung to him to clamber on to his shoulders, the hobbit closed his eyes against the darkness, and dizzily tried to find a better handhold, even if just a little higher, for the water was rising at an alarming rate.

Suddenly, the weight on his shoulder's lessened, and opening one eye Carl saw nearby a rope dangling. Clinging to that rope was an orc who held the boy briefly by the upper arm before flinging him up into the blanket which was also suspended, but much higher well above the water. The orc soon found Gwella and Ina next in the inky blackness, treating them in much the same rough manner. When the pair of glinting eyes caught sight of Carl, the hobbit had both his open, and quite wide they were. But before the farmer could protest, he was thrown into the blanket, hoisted up into the daylight and plucked out of it again - just as quickly, though perhaps less roughly than he was placed in it. And with a kind word or two he was set down next to Ina, to squint with her in the sunlight, grimacing at the discovery of a painful lump on the back of his head.

[Nogrod]

Gwerr was just about congratulating himself from almost making the escape when he heard the screams and the talk behind him. An orc child in trouble with humans?That Gwella it must be.... He glanced at Ishkur and it seemed the two thought about the same thing. Whatever muscles the Uruk have they don't have brains. Farewell Makdush... we're going to live and claim our treasure, you rusty old pile of bones. They nodded at each other and abruptly turned on their heels running as fast as they could... back towards the men.

The men around were just stunned of their sudden act and barely managed to react before the two orcs had gotten past them and towards the pit where all the screams were coming from. "A rope! A rope!" Gwerr shouted as they ran.

A young boy of half southern origin was making it towards the same goal and turned around when hearing the orc-calls from behind him. His name was Hadith.

"There!" he yelled just obeying the commanding sound of the cry and pointing towards a pile of ropes left by the building of the first-aid tents. Only then did he realise they were orcs who were calling for the ropes.

For a moment he was about to draw his sword but the orcs passed him by too far away changing their path towards the ropes he had pointed to them. What? Have I blundered now? Hadith drew his sword and ran after the orcs shouting wildly "Take them! Bring them down!"

But the orcs were much quicker than he was and even if his yelling reached the people around the pit before the two orcs managed their way there the sight of two unarmed orcs with ropes rushing towards the place didn't exactly make them feel like attacking the two - even if they felt quite uncertain about the situation.

"Wait, wait! The ropes are coming!" Ishkur cried as the two came forwards and the few humans who had got blades raised lowered them.

Whilst running the last meters Gwerr had already started to tie the other end of the rope he carried around his waist. As they reached the spot they elbowed themselves room enough through the stupefied humans and Gwerr called Ishkur to either tie the rope or get help - and he was gone from their eyes, jumping down to the pit.

Some of the men ran to help Ishkur and together they managed to halt the rope. Gwerr was hanging a few feet above Carl and the boy he was carrying.

"Gimme some! Two feet!" Gwerr shouted and the rope was loosened a bit letting Gwerr fall down enough to get a tight grip of the boy's shoulders. There was a blanket suspended by a pair of ropes some people had tried to lower to the aid of those in the pit that now served as a rescue vehicle. Gwerr flinged the boy to it and called for the people up to loosen the rope.

He went down the wall into the darkness smelling, listening; feeling his way towards Gwella and Ina. "Here you are you little... treasure you!" he whispered to Gwella as he hoisted her on his shoulder after he had picked Ina to his other one. Gwerr tugged the rope with his teeth and then yelled up. "Get me up! ten feet!"

After he got a hold for his feet a few yards from the top of the cliff he threw the two little ones to the blanket and called for it to be hoisted up finally turning to the hobbit. "Loose again!" he shouted and went down.

He met two inquisitive eyes soon enough but it was no time for wondering... he sure had not seen that kind of eyes before and it bothered him. But he took the creature by his outstreched arms and flinged him to the blanket that had been meanwhile lowered down again. He saw the blanket slowly rise upwards and finally disappearing over the top of the cliff and into the light.

Gwerr was listening. He was smelling the cave. He was feeling the cave. He was even seeing around a bit even if not too far.

"Any more in here?" He yelled to the darkness. He turned to look upwards. "Are there more here?"

Suddenly he realised he had quite outstreched his powers. Surely it was in a way no deal to him as he had made greater deeds and fought in the greatest battles this world could tell a story of - and even in those there were no stories about - but somehow that sudden action had quite drawn all his energy and he felt he was not able to hold it much longer at that narrow step he was standing at just a feet or two above the still rising waterline.

"Any more here?"

He was not going to ask for them to pull him up though. A decent orc would not beg for help to himself.