The eyes of the enemy are ever lingering.

"Walk faster you bunch of slugs or no grub for the lot of you!" The harsh voice of the scout leader rang in Krûl's ears. "We have been running for hours straight! " said one of the others next to him. It was true, Krûl had the wounds on his feet to show for it "Why do we even run?" Another scout almost shouted yet the scout leader gave no answer and just kept running, we kept following. Orders were orders and disobedience meant the whip, even for half-orcs. Camp was not far now.

Luzbug his breath was only beaten by the racing of his heart yet they had made it. The scout leader looked behind him to see his company laying for dead in the grass behind him. It was of no matter. They could be dead for the next three days until they needed to return to their spot again. Masters do not care what we do in those days, as long as we made no trouble, or else our heads would roll. One thing left before rest. "Krûl! Masters want our findings! Come here you lazy mutt!" Masters must be happy with this. Luzbug will be rewarded. Maybe even have some good food and a soft bed. Luzbug likes soft bedding.

A fist pounded on the table followed by harsh words were spoken between the two Uruk captains. Words that the third and last of them could not understand. "Speak so that I can follow you as well.  Else you will be left with them yourselves." The two Uruks in front of him stopped shouting towards each other and gave the third member of the small council a gaze before they spoke to him in a tongue he could understand: "Progress goes too slow. Sharkû wants results quicker." The Dunlending chief took of his prized, steel helmet and rubbed his right temple with the palm of his hand. His words sounded harsh yet true: "How can you expect result when we have just-" Meurig stopped talking when he saw two half-orcs walking up the ramp to the private part of the leadership. One of the uruks called Gâmzhurm shouted at the two in that foul tongue of theirs yet the other uruk, who was named Pizumu said: "Let them pass. They are Rakhûga's scouts. " The two half-orcs approached,  one of them clutching some papers in his gloved hands that he laid on the table, adding: "Capitains, you remember that group of filthy dwarves passing a few days ago?" Pizumu gave a hefty nod with his broad head, saying in a rather annoyed voice: "Ofcourse. My crebain spotted them from a mile of our border. Their fires have been even seen by our scouts." Meurig looked at the two half-orcs, who were now known to him as scouts, and he added to the Uruk: "Yet they entered Byllu Daugh. We do not have orders to attack the Corrach." The half-orcs looked at Meurig for a second, not fully umderstanding him, before looking at the papers on the table again: "Found those near one of their old campfires. Thought you might want a look at it. Pizumu took the sheets in his own hands, reading them for a seconds before laying them on the table. His laughter was as unexpected as it was foul. "You did good Luzbug. Talk to the quartermaster and ask for an extra portion of meat. Tell him Meurig will deal with him when he refuses! Now get out of our sights!"

Meurig looked as the two half-orcs left, grinning to themselves. A good brawl would do me good, he thought before looking at the the spy master who was still reading one of the papers "What did they tell you, those words?" The Uruk stopped with reading and looked at Meurig and Rakhûga.  His voice almost had a happy tone behind its harshness: "We need to alert our boys in the caves. At least one of those dwarves is a hobbit! Sharkû wants all hobbits that dare to cross these lands. We send runners at this instant!" Rakhûga ran of as quick as he could of the slope yet Meurig could still see the horrid grin on his face as he did so. He walked over at towards the papers yet they could have been empty for what he was concerned, unable to read them.

The Draigh-luth Brenin looked at Pizumu as he spoke in a confused tone: "What is even a hobbit?"