An Orc's Perspective
Mar. 2nd, 2017 10:17 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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b2memB2MeM Prompt and Path:Freedom, Red
Format:Ficlet
Genre:Deathfic
Rating:PG
Warnings:Battle, Death
Characters:Anonymous Orc
Pairings:None
Creator’s Notes:Tolkien provided the sandbox, I merely play with the bucket and shovel he left behind. No profit of any kind is made from my fanworks.
Summary:As the final battle of the War of the Last Alliance got underway, Sauron threw all of his troops at the enemy. One of them was an anonymous orc who had never been outside of his den before.
An Orc’s Perspective
I heard the war horns winded, thousands of voices raised in a roar as the gates were slowly opened ahead of us. The great doors rumbled and a brisk wind blew through the newly opened gap, sweeping down our waiting ranks. Drums had beat as we exited the caverns. Their sound now continued as they delivered orders through their rhythm.
Many around me cast careful sideways glances at the surroundings, grunting their astonishment. Open space was a new experience for most of us. Of course, our overseers had been outside the crowded dens before; they had been given details about our roles in the upcoming battle. But we were the rank and file; nothing special, just bodies to throw at the enemy. Our numbers would prevail, not our skill.
I was not at the front, a fact that made me grateful even though I had nothing to do with my position. I was removed from the fierce battle at the opened gate where elven arrows and bright blades were now mowing down my den mates. I looked around me and saw open ground ahead, angling away up a slope that looked possible to scale if I was quick. If only I could reach it, I might break free of the bloodshed and live to fight again another time.
The smell of blood hit me and I fought down panic. I had to get out of the pack and away from the death dealing blades and arrows. I turned, pushing my fellow orcs out of my way and began running as quickly as I could toward the small apron of open land beyond the gaping gates.
The battling crowd blocked my view. I stopped to get my bearings and took a deep breath. The air smelled strange without the additional taints of spoiled food and piles of excrement. I took a quick look up and halted in amazement. The sky was so vast! Suddenly I felt like a flea crawling on the earth – small and of no importance. I fell to my knees, frightened by its immensity; it was beyond my imagination. A sudden jolt of pain struck me. Looking down I saw the arrow. I fell, but smiled. Finally I was free from the orc dens of Mordor.
Format:Ficlet
Genre:Deathfic
Rating:PG
Warnings:Battle, Death
Characters:Anonymous Orc
Pairings:None
Creator’s Notes:Tolkien provided the sandbox, I merely play with the bucket and shovel he left behind. No profit of any kind is made from my fanworks.
Summary:As the final battle of the War of the Last Alliance got underway, Sauron threw all of his troops at the enemy. One of them was an anonymous orc who had never been outside of his den before.
An Orc’s Perspective
I heard the war horns winded, thousands of voices raised in a roar as the gates were slowly opened ahead of us. The great doors rumbled and a brisk wind blew through the newly opened gap, sweeping down our waiting ranks. Drums had beat as we exited the caverns. Their sound now continued as they delivered orders through their rhythm.
Many around me cast careful sideways glances at the surroundings, grunting their astonishment. Open space was a new experience for most of us. Of course, our overseers had been outside the crowded dens before; they had been given details about our roles in the upcoming battle. But we were the rank and file; nothing special, just bodies to throw at the enemy. Our numbers would prevail, not our skill.
I was not at the front, a fact that made me grateful even though I had nothing to do with my position. I was removed from the fierce battle at the opened gate where elven arrows and bright blades were now mowing down my den mates. I looked around me and saw open ground ahead, angling away up a slope that looked possible to scale if I was quick. If only I could reach it, I might break free of the bloodshed and live to fight again another time.
The smell of blood hit me and I fought down panic. I had to get out of the pack and away from the death dealing blades and arrows. I turned, pushing my fellow orcs out of my way and began running as quickly as I could toward the small apron of open land beyond the gaping gates.
The battling crowd blocked my view. I stopped to get my bearings and took a deep breath. The air smelled strange without the additional taints of spoiled food and piles of excrement. I took a quick look up and halted in amazement. The sky was so vast! Suddenly I felt like a flea crawling on the earth – small and of no importance. I fell to my knees, frightened by its immensity; it was beyond my imagination. A sudden jolt of pain struck me. Looking down I saw the arrow. I fell, but smiled. Finally I was free from the orc dens of Mordor.
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