tanaquiljall

( Day 18: As a man may cast a dainty to his cat )


Feel free to leave more prompts in comments to any of the posts.

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AFriedman commented on Memories to keep an old orc warm: How does this character know about orcling tales of the northlands? And who would tell orclings these tales? You still haven't written a drabble about what kind of care orcs give to their children.

Now I have. *g*

Day 225

Orcling Tales

"...An' the Great Goblin marched forward, brave an' true, bringin' wiv 'im the snivellin' prisoner, all stumblin' on account o' the Great Goblin 'avin' already poked out 'is eyes long afore.

"And 'e showed 'em – bloody-'anded elves, starry-eyed murderers – what 'e'd do to 'em when 'e caught 'em. Cut off the prisoner's right 'and first," the Orc-mother held up a fist and drew a claw across her wrist, while her brood, packed close in the nest, hung on her words. "An' then 'is left. An' then 'is feet." Her talon traced across the nearest orcling's ankles. "An' then 'is head...."



With them they brought Gelmir son of Guilin, that lord of Nargothrond whom they had captured in the Bragollach; and they had blinded him. Then the heralds of Angband showed him forth, crying: 'We have many more such at home, but you must make haste if you would find them; for we shall deal with them all when we return even so.' And they hewed off Gelmir's hands and feet, and his head last, within sight of the Elves, and left him.

The Silmarillion, Quenta Silmarillion, Ch 20, Of The Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad

elena_tiriel gave me the quote

[Sam] was no longer holding the Ring, but it was there, a hidden power, a cowing menace to the slaves of Mordor; and in his hand was Sting, and its light smote the eyes of the orc like the glitter of cruel stars in the terrible elf-countries, the dream of which was a cold fear to all his kind.

The Return of the King, LoTR Book 6, Ch 1, The Tower of Cirith Ungol

Day 210



Orc Dreams

Dugbúrz fell into a heavy sleep, worn out by the forced march.

Stars wheeled round his head, faster and faster until he felt sick....

Soon the Reaper's seven points merged with the cruel blade of the striding Orc-Hacker. Old Red-Eye, who stood defiant against the Pirate-Thief sailing his Death-Ship westwards, became a bloody streak. With trembling hands, Dugbúrz raised his sword to defend himself against the Pirate-King swooping down....

Dugbúrz woke, sweating. The cursèd lights were pricking out above his head. Muttering oaths, he aimed a kick at a fellow maggot as he staggered a few yards to relieve himself.

After yesterday's drabble Comparing Notes, I got to wondering about How Turgon's sword ended up in the Troll's cave.

Day 197

How are the mighty fallen

The sword tumbled downwards until it hit the scorched and cracked flagstones with a dull clang like a death-knell for its lord.

An orc surged forward and seized it triumphantly, waving it above his head with a yell. Turning, he met the point of a scimitar belonging to his captain, who claimed the prize for his own.

That night, the captain of another company, moving with unusual stealth while his sated comrades slumbered, slit the throat of the first and deserted eastwards with his trophy.

So the sword passed from hand to hand until: "Blimey, Bert, look what I've copped."

First of all, thank you to everyone who nominated my pieces in the MEFAs. {{{hugs}}} to you all.

On to today's drabble. gwynnyd wanted to know What did it feel like to Sauron's troops when his will was removed?

Day 90

Fade to Black

The blood o' the filthy tarks smells real sweet. Hai! Hai! Yoi! We'll 'ave ourselves a fine feast when the battle's done. An' when this lot's bin killed, we'll go find their women an' brats an'....

He falters....

Oi! That aint tark-blood. That's old Gordal with an arrer through 'is throat. An' Othgol with 'is guts spillin' out an' steamin'. An', an'... there's 'undreds of 'em: filthy tarks, lookin' awful fierce, an' their swords look terrible sharp, an'....

The scimitar falls from his trembling hand. His legs give way. Cowering on the ground, he covers his ears with his claws.

elena_tiriel gave me the following quote as a prompt:

Then among the greater casts there fell another hail, less ruinous but more horrible. All about the streets and lanes behind the Gate it tumbled down, small round shot that did not burn. But when men ran to learn what it might be, they cried aloud or wept. For the enemy was flinging into the City all the heads of those who had fallen fighting at Osgiliath, or on the Rammas, or in the fields. They were grim to look on; for though some were crushed and shapeless, and some had been cruelly hewn, yet many had features that could be told, and it seemed that they had died in pain; and all were branded with the foul token of the Lidless Eye. But marred and dishonoured as they were, it often chanced that thus a man would see again the face of someone that he had known, who had walked proudly once in arms, or tilled the fields, or ridden in upon a holiday from the green vales in the hills.

The Return of the King, LoTR Book 5, Ch 4, The Siege of Gondor

Hope you like the result! *g*

Day 49



Waste not, want not

Muzbal leaned on his axe and took a breather while Grishdug hauled the last body, dead hands clawing the grass, towards him. Well, could be others, but I ain't lookin' for no bodies as the captain can't see.

Grishdug, muttering curses under his breath – some of 'em aimed at me, I'll bet, Muzbal thought – dropped the Man in front of Muzbal, who hefted his axe and brought it down. While Grishdug, still grumbling, grabbed an ankle and set off again, Muzbal completed the job with a branding iron.

Then he turned and followed Grishdug's trail towards the cooks and dinner.