orc

After that fearful dream, Ornessar and Calaerneth stood up and went to the baths of the guest-hall to clean themselves and get refreshed - after all, a large feast was waiting for them. When they exited the baths they returned to their room and took care of each other's long, majestic hair and they wore formal and royal clothes, for the feast.

_{[This story is connected to http://laurelinarchives.org/node/40736.]}

Durin's Day, year 2894 of the Third Age, Hammersmith Hall,

This day was a day I would remember forever.  The day promised to be a normal Durin's Day in Hammersmith Hall.  The Ale Association was here, selling their ales and meads, and minstrels singing the songs of our forefathers.

The road that led ran out of Moria and into the Realm of Lothlorien wound through a narrow valley following the route of the river. Amongst the many craggy nooks Orcs had made their crude camps and fortified them with large palisades of roughly hewn wood. From their hiding places they would ambush the few travellers that made the journey, mainly Dwarves collecting wood for the ongoing repairs in the city of Khazad-Dum.

"Garn, Shikzâg told me you'd be lazy scum! Get up, sluggard, or I'll have you sent to Sharkey's Pits for Slave-work!" A voice roared.
Morgulg opened his wary eyes and found himself staring into the eye of his fellow companion, Burguz. His first instinct was to spit into the Orc's face and tell him to leave him alone, but Morgulg resisted every urge to do so under the fear of getting throttled.