The Ork: A not so unexpected Journey

Narzug hastily ended his meditation and mentally prepared for the upcoming events in Dol Guldur. He could almost smell the trouble that seemed to be coming his way.

Narzug hurriedly left the sanctuary of the Misty Mountains Orcs, with the promise to meet Margosh in the throne room in three hours. He went to his forge to pack his few belongings for the journey, but quickly realized that he owned nothing apart from the clothes on his back. Consequently, he only had his axe, which he should not forget. After a brief moment of reflection, he left his forge again and headed to the large Orc kitchens to get provisions for the trip. On his way there, he passed the public bathing caves. Many small caves, full of thermal pools, heated by molten rock from the earth's interior.

"Now that I think about it, since my arrival in Middle-earth, I've only been working, training, and fighting. I've earned a bit of relaxation," he thought.

Narzug entered one of the bathing caves, undressed, and slipped into the hot water. He replayed everything he had experienced in the past weeks in his mind. He noticed how his thoughts about his previous life increasingly receded into the background and he felt more and more like just an Orc. Even if he hadn't noticed it himself, something in him had died bit by bit with his enemies in the arena: the feeling of humanity. In the depths of the Misty Mountains, where no ray of sunlight will ever fall, a change had taken place in Narzug over time. First outwardly, and then slowly but steadily, Jacob, the human, died, and Narzug, the Orc, was born. Shocked, Narzug noticed that he also thought of himself as Narzug and no longer as Jacob. At that moment, Narzug felt a clarity and coherence. After almost two months, he felt comfortable in his body again and recognized it as his own. Gone was the feeling of having been put into an Orc body.

Narzug stood up and looked at his reflection in the water's surface again. "That's me. I am Narzug!" he shouted his thoughts out loud.

However, what Narzug did not notice in the dark water surface were the changes that had occurred in his appearance. Starting with his hair, which now hung over his shoulder and ended in a wild knot between his shoulder blades. His initially bright green eyes had turned into a dark shimmering orange. If Narzug could have seen his eyes, he would have immediately thought of the red eyes of the Siths in Star Wars.

His face had become narrower and looked darker and meaner. But the biggest difference was in his skin color. The dirty green that marked the beginning of his awakening had gradually turned into a shadowy gray since he took the first steps on the path of the shamans. Like Morgash, Narzug's veins could be seen running in a dark black under his gray skin.

Narzug sank back into the water and relaxed completely for the first time since his awakening in Middle-earth.

After about an hour, Narzug emerged from the water and put his boots and pants back on. "I desperately need more clothing. Even though I have a killer body, I don't want to walk around half-naked all day. And the old leather apron just looks terrible."

He continued on his way and soon arrived at the kitchens. Immediately, he could smell the delicious aroma of roasted meat, and his mouth began to water. This lasted until he saw what was being grilled. On a spit, with an apple in its mouth, the Orc he had last split in the arena was being slowly turned over the fire. The two crudely sewn-together halves presented a gruesome sight. Nevertheless, Narzug wierdly felt no disgust; instead, an appetite was building inside him. One of the cooks noticed Narzug's hungry gaze and cut off a piece of thigh with his knife. With a bow, the cook handed the perfectly grilled piece of meat to Narzug, who took a bite after a moment's hesitation. A juicy aroma spread in his mouth, and Narzug immediately wanted more.

With mixed feelings, he had a care package prepared for the journey, which also included pieces of the Orc, and then continued on his way with a bit of calf in his hand.

His next stop was the armory. After several minutes of consideration, Narzug chose a shoulder guard (similar to the one on the book cover) and a simple but well-forged dagger. After donning the shoulder guard and fastening the dagger to his thigh, his preparations were complete for the time being.

"A nap on my throne would do me good now," thought Narzug and set off.

---

Slowly the sun set behind the Misty Mountains, and Narzug and Morgash set out for the main entrance of the orc tunnels. After being told that they would have to walk, Narzug pulled a long face. "Can't we ride some wargs or possibly just take a horse?" Narzug asked despondently. Morgash replied with a laugh, "Unfortunately not, master. All our wargs have been gradually eaten by the Great Goblin, possibly the reason why he got so fat. And if you show me a horse that lets an orc sit on its back, call me. Then I'll ride with you in the romantic moonlight all the way to the Southlands and back!"

Thus, the two set off on foot, through the great gate, past a clearing where a mighty fire had apparently raged a few days ago, and through dense forest until they rested at the foot of the Misty Mountains. Morgash decided to spend the day in a nearby small cave. "With my powers, I can defy the sunlight, and for you as one of the Gundabad orcs, it's at most an inconvenience, but we have enough time planned and don't need to rush. In the end, we might even arrive in Dol Guldur too early."

He continued, "Tomorrow we have to traverse the most dangerous part of the route. As soon as we see a large rock in the shape of a bear's head, we need to start a detour. This rock is called Carrock, and with it begins the realm of the 'búbhosh sharkû', the great old man. He is the last of the shape-shifters and not exactly fond of orcs." Narzug, who of course already knew Beorn from The Hobbit, wanted to know how strong Morgash would rate him. So Narzug asked, "Why don't we fight and kill him?"

Morgash just shook his head. "Many have tried, and none have come back so far. Even with your muscles and my skills, we would probably lose. Have you ever fought while a fist-sized bee stings you in the butt? That's about how you can imagine a fight with the old man. Besides, it's very easy to bypass his territory."

And so the two continued their journey. At night they walked, and during the day they rested in caves or small rock ledges to avoid the sun. Narzug was furious. He was in one of the most beautiful worlds ever conceived by man, but could only see everything by night and darkness. Even with his orc eyes, which could see well in the dark, he was disappointed. Even his hatred for Middle-earth diminished a little, for even what he saw in the darkness was simply breathtaking. New Zealand, where the films were shot, could not come close to the overwhelming impressions that Middle-earth delivered.

At the end of the third night, they reached the edge of Mirkwood. Morgash pondered and decided to continue traveling during the day as well. "We will walk through the shadows of the trees of Mirkwood during the day. We must always stay at the edge and continue south. This way, we should reach Dol Guldur at nightfall."

Said and done.

Right on time on the 30th day, Narzug and Morgash stood before the ruins of Dol Guldur. They were greeted by the typical drumming of Moria orcs. Their steps echoed in the rhythm of the drums as they walked through the walled corridors of the fortress until they stood in front of the former throne room of the castle. Morgash could feel an ancient malevolence emanating from the stones of the fortress. The negative energies in the air were so heavy and saturated that Morgash almost got a hard ...neck... as he looked around with wide eyes.

The throne room of Dol Guldur was a gloomy, eerie place filled with dark magic and evil omens. Azog the Defiler sat on a large, black throne, waiting patiently. His eyes sparkled in the light of the flickering torches that cast a dim glow over the room. He knew this meeting would be crucial for the future of the orcs in Middle-earth. But more importantly to him, this alliance would bring him closer to his goal of exterminating Durin's folk, the dwarves.

Soon, the massive stone door of the throne room opened, and Narzug entered. He was accompanied by his orc shaman, who looked around with awe. Narzug walked confidently toward Azog and respectfully nodded his head.

"Welcome, Narzug," Azog greeted his guest. "I've heard you're no longer called Narzug the Head-Ripper but Narzug the Mist Demon. A fitting name for a warrior as strong as you. We have much to discuss."

Azog immediately sensed the changes in Narzug. Where he had previously felt a strong evil from him, now it felt as if he were standing before the Balrog of Moria, which he had once observed from afar.

Narzug nodded and took a seat at a large stone table in the middle of the throne room. Azog stood up and approached the table, spreading out a large map of Middle-earth and fixing Narzug with a serious gaze.

"Our enemies are numerous and strong," began Azog, trying to convince Narzug of his inner thirst for revenge. "The dwarves, men, and elves have conspired against us. To defeat them, we must unite our forces. An alliance between the Moria orcs and the Misty Mountain orcs is the first step." Azogs pointed on different places on the map, known to be the homes of humans, dwarfs and elves.

Narzug examined the map closely. "An alliance would indeed be advantageous," he agreed. "The enemies of the orcs are indeed strong. But how do you envision this alliance?"

"We could share our resources," Azog said. "Moria is rich in minerals and metals, while the Misty Mountains have numerous sources of food in their surroundings. By combining our supplies, we can ensure our orcs are well provided for."

Narzug nodded in agreement but overall viewed the alliance with disinterest. Some events and twists were a bit boring with knowledge of the future. He knew the alliance would probably only last until the Battle of the Five Armies. Nonetheless, he gave Azog what he wanted: "That sounds like a solid plan."

Narzug leaned back and thought for a moment. "And what about joint attacks on various settlements to capture more resources?"

Azog nodded with a serious face, but inwardly he was as happy as a lark. Now he had already achieved his goal with the alliance. Now, with a bit of persuasion, he had the Misty Mountain orcs on his side to lead an attack against the dwarves he hated so much.

Without giving Narzug a chance to reconsider his decision, Azog extended his hand, and Narzug took it. The handshake was firm and resolute, a symbol of the newly forged alliance between the two orc chieftains.

"This is the beginning of a new era," said Azog. "Together we will destroy our enemies and solidify our power in Middle-earth."

Narzug grinned grimly. "Indeed. Let's make the world tremble." And in his thoughts, he added, "at least until you are a cold corpse at the foot of Erebor in a few weeks."

Now Azog looked at Mortash.

"Shaman, I wanted you to come to catch a glimpse of the future. Unfortunately, Moria has lost its shamans over the years. Would you lend us your services? My scouts are currently on the trail of the cursed Thorin Oakenshield. If we could see his future plans, we would surely catch him soon!"

Morgash nodded. "I can do that. I need both of you and 18 of your strongest orcs. 16 to sing and two for their lives."

Azog nodded in thanks and had everything prepared. Morgash quickly killed two of the orcs and smeared himself with their blood. His rune tattoos began to glow faintly. Then he started singing in the Black Speech, and Azog, Narzug, and the remaining orcs joined in.

The shaman closed his eyes and swayed to the rhythm of the dark song until he suddenly opened his eyes and said to Azog in the dark language: "The gray one will come seeking answers and he will find them. He will discover the dark master and try to stop his awakening. Expect him."

And as if a switch had been flipped, everyone fell silent and ended the song. Azog was not satisfied with the prophecy, as he had hoped to get closer to his goal. Nevertheless, keeping the ghost of Sauron in the basement a secret, he bowed in the old manner before the shaman.

And with the words, "As soon as we find the dwarves, I will send a warg rider to the Misty Mountains," Azog ended the meeting.

Narzug grinned and said, "And the Misty Mountains will answer!"

---

Shortly thereafter, Narzug and Morgash set off on their way back.

"Fuck this shit. So this is how it's going to be? I trek through mud and muck for four days, only to turn around after four paragraphs of conversation with someone?! And all because the damn author finds long dialogues difficult?? Maybe I should write a book about this little journey myself to show the author how it's really done... I'll call my book: The Ork: A not so unexpected Journey"