Post by Dragoneyes on May 8, 2003 16:43:41 GMT -5
my precious (couldn't help myself, sorry) anyway, here is a fanfic I've written, it's actually still in progress but I wanted to show some people before I continued with it. It's the siege of Gondor from an Orc's point of view. I may not have stuck to the book completely as I've not read it in a while but I tried to stick as closely as I could. Now, enough blabbering.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We had been training for months for this, the ones at the top had been planning this for years. The pressure was rising and the tension was growing with every step we took towards that accursed white city. I looked up from my feet, the city was in view, but white it was not. One day, they had been told, its walls would be stained red with the blood of the enemy and that day was not far off. Up the front of the army marched the first division and a few Uruk-hai driving them on. Each division had its slave drivers, rushing around whipping any slackers back into shape. Some divisions had marched across Mordor without rest and were slacking, thankfully, not my own, we had arrived early and been allowed rest waiting for the last to come.
We were by no means the best off however, oh no, right behind us rode the witch king, driving us on ahead of him sending those around him mad with fear and hatred. To our right and left were the Haradrim and Easterlings. They had brought beasts the size of many houses with them and placed great towers on them, their very steps shook the earth.
There was a shout from the front and we halted, I couldn’t see what was going on. I could only see only the back of the Orcs in front, the same backs I had been looking at for the past few weeks, I had almost memorised every fleck of mud, every cut and scratch, every lump and deformity. While we were marching, there was nothing else to do. It occurred to me that I’d never seen these Orc’s faces, then it occurred to me that I wouldn’t want to.
I could hear faint shouts from the front and then faint clashing of swords. Being far back, I didn’t have a clue as to what was going on, I only knew that there was a fight going on and that I wasn’t involved. One of the men’s great beasts trumpeted, pushing my thoughts out of my head, leaving no room for them. The beast was quietened and a stark silence followed, the fight had finished.
We pushed onwards and the Orc in front of me began to struggle. We came to what looked like the ruin of an old city, bodies were scattered everywhere, and though none now had they’re heads. We swarmed round and climbed over the ruinous buildings, not an easy thing to do after marching from Mordor and a few weaker Orcs were falling due to exhaustion. Most never even attempted to rise again. The Orc in front of me finally fell, the last thing I ever saw of him was the back of his head as I trod on it and pushed it further into the ground.
At last, rest. I took my own space next to an old wall and grabbing some food for myself, I leaned against it to rest. Just five hours later, I was up again. From the looks of things more men had attacked, and were still attacking. We poured over the river, by boat and bridge and the men were quickly overcome. When I got to their bodies though, their heads had already been taken, was I never going to get a trophy?
Utter darkness fell over the land and we stood, waiting for the very back to catch up. The city was silent, though there were men on the walls surveying the scene with dismay. The forward ranks moved off and set up catapults to fling rocks into their walls with. They began to set the city aflame with burning rocks and burning arrows, all I could do was watch.
The witch king sent up a great scream, echoed by the other ringwraiths high in the sky. Their cries sent shudders through my body, I no longer had control over it, and fear had taken hold. Soon enough the whole host of Mordor began to move, at first slowly but then faster, picking up speed. I began panicking, I could feel the witch king catching up with me. I clamber over others, we were all desperate to get away from the source of all our fears. It was no use, no use, he was gaining, catching up, soon he would arrive, he would trample down all those in his path, he would show no mercy, he would leave none alive. I scrambled at those in front of me, why weren’t they moving faster? I could still feel the presence of the witch king and one thought filled up my mind over and over: Must get away, must get away, must get away. It was no use, he was right beside me, I looked up past his terrible mount towards where his face should’ve been but only a crown rested. He took no notice of me, a lowly Orc, and for that, I was glad. I stopped, giving him time to move away from me as he cleaved his way through the ranks of the army, leaving a path of gibbering, senseless Orcs in his wake.
I did not stay still for long though. Soon enough the throngs of Orcs behind me pushed forward and I was caught up in a tide of beasts, pushing forwards towards the battlements of the great city. I craned my neck a looked up to the breath-taking height of the white tower and thought how satisfying it would be to bring it crashing to the ground. But we weren’t there yet, there was much work to do before we got that far.
The Easterlings set their great beasts and catapults up, while we, the Orcs, were set to work digging out trenches. The whips on our backs were relentless, no rest till you finished your task or died. Some dug with shovels others with hands but by the time we were finished, we were all tired.
A few exhausted Orc bodies were shoved into the deep trench as the glooping sound of the black liquid flowing came to our ears. The black liquid filled the trench to the top, its surface was a mirror in which everything was darkened and it showed the world, as it would soon be. The line of Orcs drew back from the trench, knowing what was going to happen. Sure enough, a wave of flame swept along the black liquid, igniting anything too close to it, as one Orc found when he was incinerated, his comrades chuckled grimly at his misfortune.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We had been training for months for this, the ones at the top had been planning this for years. The pressure was rising and the tension was growing with every step we took towards that accursed white city. I looked up from my feet, the city was in view, but white it was not. One day, they had been told, its walls would be stained red with the blood of the enemy and that day was not far off. Up the front of the army marched the first division and a few Uruk-hai driving them on. Each division had its slave drivers, rushing around whipping any slackers back into shape. Some divisions had marched across Mordor without rest and were slacking, thankfully, not my own, we had arrived early and been allowed rest waiting for the last to come.
We were by no means the best off however, oh no, right behind us rode the witch king, driving us on ahead of him sending those around him mad with fear and hatred. To our right and left were the Haradrim and Easterlings. They had brought beasts the size of many houses with them and placed great towers on them, their very steps shook the earth.
There was a shout from the front and we halted, I couldn’t see what was going on. I could only see only the back of the Orcs in front, the same backs I had been looking at for the past few weeks, I had almost memorised every fleck of mud, every cut and scratch, every lump and deformity. While we were marching, there was nothing else to do. It occurred to me that I’d never seen these Orc’s faces, then it occurred to me that I wouldn’t want to.
I could hear faint shouts from the front and then faint clashing of swords. Being far back, I didn’t have a clue as to what was going on, I only knew that there was a fight going on and that I wasn’t involved. One of the men’s great beasts trumpeted, pushing my thoughts out of my head, leaving no room for them. The beast was quietened and a stark silence followed, the fight had finished.
We pushed onwards and the Orc in front of me began to struggle. We came to what looked like the ruin of an old city, bodies were scattered everywhere, and though none now had they’re heads. We swarmed round and climbed over the ruinous buildings, not an easy thing to do after marching from Mordor and a few weaker Orcs were falling due to exhaustion. Most never even attempted to rise again. The Orc in front of me finally fell, the last thing I ever saw of him was the back of his head as I trod on it and pushed it further into the ground.
At last, rest. I took my own space next to an old wall and grabbing some food for myself, I leaned against it to rest. Just five hours later, I was up again. From the looks of things more men had attacked, and were still attacking. We poured over the river, by boat and bridge and the men were quickly overcome. When I got to their bodies though, their heads had already been taken, was I never going to get a trophy?
Utter darkness fell over the land and we stood, waiting for the very back to catch up. The city was silent, though there were men on the walls surveying the scene with dismay. The forward ranks moved off and set up catapults to fling rocks into their walls with. They began to set the city aflame with burning rocks and burning arrows, all I could do was watch.
The witch king sent up a great scream, echoed by the other ringwraiths high in the sky. Their cries sent shudders through my body, I no longer had control over it, and fear had taken hold. Soon enough the whole host of Mordor began to move, at first slowly but then faster, picking up speed. I began panicking, I could feel the witch king catching up with me. I clamber over others, we were all desperate to get away from the source of all our fears. It was no use, no use, he was gaining, catching up, soon he would arrive, he would trample down all those in his path, he would show no mercy, he would leave none alive. I scrambled at those in front of me, why weren’t they moving faster? I could still feel the presence of the witch king and one thought filled up my mind over and over: Must get away, must get away, must get away. It was no use, he was right beside me, I looked up past his terrible mount towards where his face should’ve been but only a crown rested. He took no notice of me, a lowly Orc, and for that, I was glad. I stopped, giving him time to move away from me as he cleaved his way through the ranks of the army, leaving a path of gibbering, senseless Orcs in his wake.
I did not stay still for long though. Soon enough the throngs of Orcs behind me pushed forward and I was caught up in a tide of beasts, pushing forwards towards the battlements of the great city. I craned my neck a looked up to the breath-taking height of the white tower and thought how satisfying it would be to bring it crashing to the ground. But we weren’t there yet, there was much work to do before we got that far.
The Easterlings set their great beasts and catapults up, while we, the Orcs, were set to work digging out trenches. The whips on our backs were relentless, no rest till you finished your task or died. Some dug with shovels others with hands but by the time we were finished, we were all tired.
A few exhausted Orc bodies were shoved into the deep trench as the glooping sound of the black liquid flowing came to our ears. The black liquid filled the trench to the top, its surface was a mirror in which everything was darkened and it showed the world, as it would soon be. The line of Orcs drew back from the trench, knowing what was going to happen. Sure enough, a wave of flame swept along the black liquid, igniting anything too close to it, as one Orc found when he was incinerated, his comrades chuckled grimly at his misfortune.
