Orc Gone Good - piece thirteen

York-ie ran with great speed, almost as fast as the days when he traveled with other Orcs, with a whip to his back to force him forward. Occasionally he bent over to check the tracks, and then continued on. The stars twinkled like white chilly ice against a black sheet of silk, and the moon was in slumber, not to be seen in the young night sky. York-ie moved like a shadow slick and smooth, untripped by the uneven grounds.

The night journeyed ever on, York-ie never knowing the time, only knowing there was still night left, so he must continue running. But soon enough a blue line appeared over the horizon, and the first sign of dawn showed itself. The shadows of night began to fade, revealing the Misty Mountains looking down on York-ie as an ant would be looked upon.
The ground grew rocky, the fields filling with stones and leaps of rocky edges.

York-ie halted and rested on the riverbank. He tried to stay near to it, so he knew he had not wandered off his eastern course. He cupped some cool water in his hand and drank quickly to sooth his harsh thirst then he sat on a rising piece of shore to rest his legs. The Orc looked out over the river, seeing it split in two, glistening under the newly risen sun and thinking to himself, about Gordon and the others, how they were, if they were in good health.

'I can only hope for good health,' said York-ie aloud to himself.' I know their spirits are in poor condition, and the only hope for raising them lies on me. but what hope do I bring? Death to many with a sword? That's all I bring, a sword. But if this is the way to free them, then I must do it.'

York-ie stood and began running once again. He found the tracks of trampled grass and followed it, but the grass soon died away, and became stone, where there was very light, or no track to follow at all. But York-ie then found something; he found crumbs, breadcrumbs. He bent over and tasted them.

'Cake, the pitiful cake they eat came in good use after all. Here I thought they would die from hunger eating those distasteful things, but it just might save their lives,' said York-ie aloud. He continued on finding more cake along the way, the trail of morsels led closer to the Mountains. York-ie climbed up the slopes, trying to make his way up the puzzle of crumbling rock; though for him, it was easier than for any other creature. He climbed the rock walls and edges like a spider on a web, stretching his long arms and legs, crawling higher and higher. Suddenly he heard voices over the cliff above. He peered over it with his large eyes and saw three Goblins fighting over a fish. They argued and fought back and forth.

'I caught it, I should eat it!' said one with only one ear that came to a long point.

'Curse you!' said one. 'I have not eaten since our attack! I can't catch food with one arm you fool!'

'The fish is mine!' said the smallest of the three. 'I'm the one who saw the fish first! If it weren't for me, you would have never seen it you blind fool!'

'I see well enough to kill you!' said the one-eared Goblin.

'Then why don't you?' threatened the smallest. They suddenly attacked each other, beating their heads into a swollen mess, but while the two bickered, the other snuck the fish away in a cave not much bigger than a hobbit hole door way. York-ie crawled past them with ease, he walking around the corner where he could not be seen, and then going in search of the dwarves.

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