He was tired of it, dead tired. The captain was always nagging, nagging and nagging and…He wished that he could slit Arzab's filthy throat but he was just a mere soldier, and the captain was an ancient orc, big and strong and vicious. He wished he was like Arzab, oh then he would be the scourge of Arda for certain.
He wasn't that lazy, he just liked to relax, there was no point in stress no was there? They were safe there and keeping an eye on the surroundings were boring, It was way more fun thinking of ways to torture his captain, nag nag nag. Glob this, Glob that, bring me my weapons, bring me food, wash my feet. By the dark one, he would get even one day and that day would go down in history as a mighty vengeance worthy of a place in the legends. Oh, he would pull Arzab's guts out and strangle him with them, it would be wonderful.
He leaned against the warm rock and grinned, his left leg ached after a vicious kick from the captain and he snarled and wished that he had had the courage to skewer that filthy scum right there and then. And now this, keep watch, yeah right, It wasn't his fault that his comrades had managed to capture this elven wench and that they all were having so much fun with it, not that Glob was in any way envious, he didn't find elven females attractive at all, they were too skinny and fair skinned and there was little meat on them too. No, a real orc wench, that was the thing for him. With thick coarse hair, piercings and tattoos and scars everywhere, with hanging breasts and dark skin and broken fangs, oh he had his favorite and she was marvelous. The dream of any orc male, so vicious in battle, so grim and her vocabulary? She could curse so bad he was sure the dark lord himself would go pale with envy. Glob wished she would notice him, but recently she seemed to favor Arzab, one more reason to strangle him with his own guts.
Glob sat by the rock, dreaming of the not so fair wench of his dreams, he never saw that two shadows that crept closer through the cracks of the mountain. If he had paid attention he would have, but he didn't. He was too preoccupied with his vivid dreams of slaying Arzab and laying with Grazhna. He didn't see the two elves that had followed their trail, didn't see the dangerous glimpse in two pairs of identical wolf like silvery grey eyes. He though he heard a sound, turned his head and he didn't have time to scream, he just stared down at the elven blade that sliced through his chest as if it was made from nothing but gossamer and air. His dreams were gone, as were he and the twins left not one orc alive as they fought to save their mother. Perhaps they ought to have thanked Glob before they killed him, for being too lazy to be a good sentinel.