Taskmaster Fulzog of Gurzum looked out over the empty outpost. The fighters have left and he was left behind with the second grade wimps to defend the camp. It was of little matter to the old orc though as after today, he and his tribe would become legends in the songs and tales of all orc-kind.
Gurzum was, as the forward scouting camp of the Ongbúrz orcs, a strategical necessity. From this fortified hill the forces had both a gateway and bulwark for their expansion in the Kingfells. If these lands would fall under the total control of the Ongbúrz, there wouldn't be anything to stop them from forming one strong front with their brethren who held the Norbury Gates to the West. The North would be under their control before the end of the month, if that would happen. There were only two problems. The rangers and the elves.
The Rangers were a constant harassment. Their sneak attacks from the shadows kept the forces of the Ongbúrz from spreading North. The elves on the other hand shouldn't had been a problem anymore. The trolls took care of them some time ago, smashing their outpost into ruins and killing all of the elf-scum that didn't fled. After that attack we could spread into the swamp and take all the land from Dol Dinen to Gurzum as their own. Yet the elves came back with a larger force and made the travel to the hill outpost bothersome. The elves and the rangers. The only true defenders of Eriador's in the eyes of the Ongbúrz. And their ward has been crumbling.
Scouts out of Gurzum couldn't believe their own eyes when they saw their foes laying dead in the grass. Most only had an arrow wound in the neck. Who did the job? No idea and it wasn't on the Orc-tribe's mind. Nearly ten rangers have been found dead in the fields and woods. Even more a treat was that even the vigilant elves seemed to be more retreating into their ruins. Luck has turned on their side and the orcs took the chance with both hands. The plan was made in less than an hour. A small host from Dol Dinen will move West. Too far from their outpost for the elves to expect a siege yet close enough to their outpost to not ignore it. In the rangers absence the elves will try to repel the host, at least that was the plan. When it was sure that the elves have left their outpost, a party from Gurzum would move against the elven camp to drive out the last defenders. When the elves loose their only foothold, there would be no stopping to the reign of the Ongbúrz Orcs and the North of Eriador would be under their control.
The night was close to falling and soon the orc would march out. "There will be no dawn for the elves." The old Taskmaster muttered to himself before he went over to check if the defenders weren't falling asleep, again.
((This is not something that is directly about the White hand yet because they were the spark that ignited the flame, I still decided to write it this way.))
