WOTR 223 turn 3

[Mormegil]

Rashkuk tried to peer through the bushes before him and gripped nervously on the reins of his mount. Grorg, his large Warhound, a great beast out of the breeding pits of Morannon, growled softly and seemed to sense the uneasiness of his rider.
The Orc closed his eyes and tried to remember the words of his Master. Dwar, the Ringwraith, had spoken to him in his head, as he did with all his captains. Rashkuk knew that he had been chosen for his strength and brutality, not for his wits, and so he tried to follow his orders word by word and shivered at the thought of making any mistakes.
The scouts had reported a large Rohirrim cavalry force, and Dwar had ordered not to meet them in open battle, but to ambush them, for he knew the wargs and warhounds could not meet the charge of armoured horses. So they waited.
Suddenly, Rashkuk could hear the clatter of horseshoes on the road. He caught a glimpse of a lance and recognized the white horse on green ground. He counted only twenty columns of five horsemen each. After them, several hundreds of footmen followed. Infantry! His master would never have set up an ambush knowing that! The scout had just seen the vanguard and misjudged the size of the dustcloud. After the battle, if he was not so lucky to die in it, he would have time to regret his failure.
Infantry! A wide and malicious grin split Rashkuks face. Despite of his tactics and even though a little outnumbered, the wargs and warhounds would have no problems to cause chaos in the lines of the footmen and slaughter them. He would bring victory to his master! And he would eat human flesh…
He drew the mighty sword he had been entrusted to wear in battle and let out a shrill and penetrating battle cry…

[JRoberts]

What the >>>>am I doing in charge of an army? I'm his most loyal and sweet lipped emissary and he put me in charge of an army?

Angulion rode his pony across the road and into the northern forests of Mirkwood...his rowdy and lewd orcish hordes behind him were spoiling for a fight...

"Just the other day a small army was reported near this village, now it's gone! The villagers will be most displeased to see these boys...now where would they have gone? No matter, we'll see them soon enough I'm sure", thought Angulion.

"Hey pretty boy, where we goin 'fter we crush the village?"

"Hell if I know, we'll look around and see what looks good, I think I'll take a nap and see how I feel about things later today."

wk 223

[KIZERSOZI]

It would seem it is not only the Nman pop centres that are abandoned for i can see no Freeps anywhere
HELLOOO FREEPS WHERE ARE YOU!!!!!!!!!!
K.E. - may have to slap a DS due to lack of freeps.

[Brendan Miller]

Gedron lounged lazily upon his divan, suffering somewhat from the noon day heat and the after effects of a debauched night of dancing, rum and cabin boys.

He brushed aside the slave holding the fan and the slave with the grapes and rose unsteadily to his feet and wobbled to the balcony.

As he vomitted over the balcony into Methir's harbour he noticed the large number of steel clad Gondorians offloading from their transports into orderly lines.
A small Sinda force had joined them, and their mighty warriors scampered across the sand chasing one another and trying to touch each others bottoms.

Old Ned burst into the chamber, rocking unsteadily on his two peg legs.
"Mighty Lord!" he said to an urn, his sightless eyes masked by two patches, " The enemy is back, shall I sound the alarms?"

"No, that won't be necessary. Just send messengers to the brothels that they will be getting an influx of 'patrons' tonight, and make sure that they use the really skanky girls. If we can't defeat the Gondorians with sword and spear then we shall see them dead with syphillis instead."

Old Ned nodded his agreement and began to try and find his way out of the room.

"Oh Ned, send in another cabin boy would you....."

[Brendan Miller]

Gedron stood proudly and bravely several miles behind his army as they faced off against the fearsome invaders from South Gondor.

His golden breastplate gleamed brightly as it was bathed in the sun's rays and he strode manfully back and forth in front of his pavillion as trained cabin boys wafted him with palm fans.

In the distance a figure could be seen trudging painfully across the harsh desert sands towards him.

Bravely, Gedron ordered his personal guard of eunuchs into defensive formation as he searched desperately for his running shoes.

Luckily the figure turned out to be Old Ned, Gedron's faithful retainer.

"Old Ned" he cried, "What news of the battle for Methir? Has it fallen to the invaders as we feared?"

"Mighty Lord" Old Ned rasped, his tongue thick in his mouth from lack of water. "They've buggered off again without a fight. They jeered at us, had a barbecue and sailed off again".

"Hmm" Said Gedron, "What cunning scheme is this that the men of Gondor have? I must know!"

Gedron slapped Old Ned on the shoulder, knocking off a dead parrott and making the venerable pirate sway on his wooden legs.
"Faithful Ned, you shall be my spy. Tonight you shall swim under cover of darkness across the sea to Dol Amroth and infiltrate the Prince's War Council. Here, take this dress and these 3 copper coins and my lucky lipstick, may the salty spirits of the sea go with you!"
"Right you are m'lord" Ned said as he took the proferred items and began the week long walk to the coast......