A fire flickered inside a cave, dancing to it's own tune, casting a red glow over not only the walls and ceiling but also the occupant of some months.
The occupant's skin was dirt encrusted and stained with dried blood: her own or another's, it was not clear. One tusk was missing, her nose ring no longer polished, her hair thick with grime, her finger nails broken and filled with mud. Her clothes, rags stitched together to cover up that which needed covering, are filthy and also stained with dried blood.
Her unusual eyes, once clear with no whites just a shade of blue, no longer danced with the flames, they were no longer filled with life. The eyes in those sockets were dead, cold and broken - their passion gone. They stared through the fire and into nothing.
Hours passed. The fire began to die down. The shadows on the walls grew longer. The light became cold.
The she-orc suddenly grunted.
Though her voice rasped and each word formed sounded as though she were putting in effort to speak she spoke with a tone of defiance.
"Come ter gloat?" she asked. Her head sank lower, her voice quietened. "Come ter torment me? Yer must be strong willed ter get yer voice heard by me in here"
There was silence.
"Yer 'ave come ter the wrong place" she replied to the silence. "I can't help yer. I won't."
Silence replied.
For a moment there was a flicker of an emotion on Mazguul's face: doubt. But the expression soon faded along with the fire.
Silence continued to speak.
"I ain't strong enough" the she-orc whispered once Silence had finished. "It be all I can do ter keep yer kind out o' m' head. The elements o' this cave be kind enough ter help me but if I leave I will loose m' mind again. Do yer have any idea wha' I have lost fer yer lot? Leave and let me die sane so at least I can spend m' last months bathed in the shame, hurt and pain I deserve - I chose the wrong path and I burned the bridges as I went. I burned all I loved. Yer lot asked too much before, yer ask too much now and I owe yer nothing."
Finally the fire died out and the she-orc sat, alone, in the dark.
"Nothing" she whispered in hate.
The occupant's skin was dirt encrusted and stained with dried blood: her own or another's, it was not clear. One tusk was missing, her nose ring no longer polished, her hair thick with grime, her finger nails broken and filled with mud. Her clothes, rags stitched together to cover up that which needed covering, are filthy and also stained with dried blood.
Her unusual eyes, once clear with no whites just a shade of blue, no longer danced with the flames, they were no longer filled with life. The eyes in those sockets were dead, cold and broken - their passion gone. They stared through the fire and into nothing.
Hours passed. The fire began to die down. The shadows on the walls grew longer. The light became cold.
The she-orc suddenly grunted.
Though her voice rasped and each word formed sounded as though she were putting in effort to speak she spoke with a tone of defiance.
"Come ter gloat?" she asked. Her head sank lower, her voice quietened. "Come ter torment me? Yer must be strong willed ter get yer voice heard by me in here"
There was silence.
"Yer 'ave come ter the wrong place" she replied to the silence. "I can't help yer. I won't."
Silence replied.
For a moment there was a flicker of an emotion on Mazguul's face: doubt. But the expression soon faded along with the fire.
Silence continued to speak.
"I ain't strong enough" the she-orc whispered once Silence had finished. "It be all I can do ter keep yer kind out o' m' head. The elements o' this cave be kind enough ter help me but if I leave I will loose m' mind again. Do yer have any idea wha' I have lost fer yer lot? Leave and let me die sane so at least I can spend m' last months bathed in the shame, hurt and pain I deserve - I chose the wrong path and I burned the bridges as I went. I burned all I loved. Yer lot asked too much before, yer ask too much now and I owe yer nothing."
Finally the fire died out and the she-orc sat, alone, in the dark.
"Nothing" she whispered in hate.
xxx
Hmmmm... would have to be Groshnakk, diligent as always AND would think of something -really- evil to use it for!