We got back home early this morning. The trip back was a little harder because we were carrying so much. It was worse for me because I’m not a low orc! I’m a troll trainer, but without my troll all the other big orcs look at me and say that I am little orc and therefore need to carry stuff. Of course, I can’t argue with them. I don’t have a death wish, unlike some of the others. I think that’s why their bigger. They need to be to be able to have a death wish and come out of it alive... or at least half alive. Half alive is good, right? Wait… no, it isn’t! If you’re half alive then you might just be next on the dinner table!
But anyways they forced me to carry some of the loot for the Commander. And since I’m not a real low orc, it was hard for me to carry all the packs (it was harder because I was trying to hide this book under my armor as well) and that meant that I got kicked a lot and the stupid half wit of a whip orc also started to get into a rhythm. It was a good think when were ambushed by that same tree yelling white skin guy and the rest of his survivor’s. Usually I’d have been irritated and claimed that the white skins just didn’t know when to give up, but this time I actually loved it; especially because the first volley made the whip orc look like a porcupine. It was a thing of beauty.
Of course that also meant us little orcs had to scatter and try and take as much cover as we could while the stupider big orcs rushed into the hills around us to look for the white skin attackers. I didn’t care where they went or what happened to them to be honest. I just wanted to come out of this in one piece… preferably properly attached and un-perforated as well. It’s why I had quickly made my way into the trees and in the confusion – took a shiny piece of armor I had seen in my sack and hid it in a hole I saw under a nearby boulder. I don’t know where the idea came from but if I must say so myself it was a stroke of genius! Maybe writing makes you more Commander-like? If that’s the case, then I have a great career in front of me. But back to what I was saying – I hid the armor quickly and luckily no one saw me. So, by the time all the big orcs got back and some of the other big orcs came back from pretending to be looking as well, we continued. No one talked about the attack on the way back, but some of the little orcs whispered. Whispers told me that the big orcs hadn’t found a single white skin and that they had lost five more of their own. I also heard that there was a she-orc who was looking for a brooding partner down in the spawn pits. I shuddered. Most of the big orcs were stupid and thought the she-orc was something to look forward to. I on the other hand had been to the brood pits to get George when he was still a little pup. I don’t want to talk about this.
I’m going to continue with my story for today. I want to be smarter after all and she orc talk will make me stupid! No talking about it! How do I erase this? I can’t tear out the page. I don’t want to write all of this again. Oh well, so anyways, we made it back to our camp which wasn’t that far from the black green statue tower of the ‘kings-that-mustn’t-be-spoken-of-or-named-directly’.
[[Author’s note – If the reader were to be daft enough to wonder who the ‘kings-that-mustn’t-be-spoken-of-or-named-directly’ are, I believe I must point out that the orc is talking about the Nazgul, you poor excuse for an elf… and if by any chance you’re a man – What in the name of Galadriel are you doing reading this book!?]]
It was getting dark when we got back, which was actually a good thing. The long walk in the cloudy weather was hard. It was bearable when the Scorcher was hiding behind its grey cages but when it broke free, it burned. It was torture… So, being back home, back to the familiar smell of lots of orcses and maturing meats was good. Also, out black lands are always dark. It’s a good place to be if one had any aesthetic whatsoever. I wonder if that’s why the One was trying to take over this side of earth – because he wanted to spread the art. I couldn’t even hope to figure it out. Not until I’d written in my book a lot! So, anyways, the Commander took his loot to his big cave and I went back to my little troll pen, hoping to get some rest and for a moment, forgetting that George wasn’t there to greet me with his usual grunt and head scratching. It felt weird now that he wasn’t there. Really weird…
Feeling a little… I don’t know what to call it but I guess the word for it might be ‘heart dying’ because that’s what it felt like. Anyways, I felt ‘heart dying’ and found my favorite spot of the pen to go to sleep in, thinking about how I needed to go to the brood pits again to get a new pup… I think I’ll take the long way around. I don’t want any of the lesser she orc to think I was perfect for her. I didn’t want to die just yet… and I wanted to keep all my body parts, especially the special one. But I don’t want to think about she-orc before I go to sleep. I hate nightmares. Good night.