Malthurs camp north of Gobel Ancalimon, the late summer of 2986
Account of the conversation between the orc chieftains Malthur and Gorbag, with orc captain Muzul being also present
The forces of Mordor are divided. Malthur is ill liked by several superior commanders but his remarkable successes and the amount of resources invested in his elite army has made them almost forced to continue supporting his campaign in some way. Their tool appears to be the orc chieftain Gorbag in particular but he is clearly less loyal to that cause than they must have expected. In typical Orcish fashion, it is not so much wanting to see Malthur succeed as to see the mutually hated overlords fail, if he can get away with it.
“I tell ya, chieftain, you’ve gotten us all, us all uruks, into a bloody great fix, you have. Them higher people back home are looking at everyone sideways these days, like we’re all in some rebellion pact with each other.”
“So what else is new? But why send you out if they think us all crooked?”
“I get out of their way, and they can keep everybody in the dark about you while still not having anything to do with you flaming rebel curs should anything turn out to go wrong. But some things are still leaking out, as they always do.”
“And they have you to inform them of my moves and thoughts too, eh?”
“Course. What did you expect?”
Malthur regarded Gorbag silently for a while while he returned the stare. It seemed like Gorbag at last felt obliged to say something more to explain himself.
“You’ve got yourself to blame since you were the one who made off with my flaming army! What do you think my choices were then, you piece of filth!?”
Malthur then sat strangely silent. Then, of all inconceivable things, his mouth seemed to be twitching. The murderous fiend was sitting and laughing quietly at it all. Muzul and Gorbag looked incredulously at him, Gorbag more openly so. Then the latter threw his wineskin at Malthur in irritation but Malthur just seemed even more amused and caught it in the air with apparent ease. He picked up another one, fuller, and tossed it back to Gorbag who had begun laughing on his own at the stupidity of it all, at least I think it would be of that.
“Poor captain Gorbag, having to deal with such rebel scum as myself!”
“Heh, on the other hand, everyone hates you more than the rest of us, so at least you’re good for something, you flaming thief. What’re you up to now, anyway? Gonna keep chipping away pieces of these snakes’ lands ‘til your hairs grey?”
“The master spy probing, eh?”
“Shut it.” Gorbag answered and took a deep swig.
“Well, I’ve gotten a taste for the place. I think I’ll keep chasing those desert rats before me ‘til they turn to sea rats, which I have been told swim in gold and float in pearls. Sounds like it’s worth a visit.”
“As expected, I guess.”
“So? What about yourself and your sorry wheezing lot? Why are you here, apart from wishing to join my illustrious companies and wish us safe travels?”
“The usual. We’re supposed to follow and mop up the sand snake remains after you’ve softened them up. Then put the finer loyal sand snakes back in place and go home. Flaming stupid expedition.”
“What the hell are you talking about!? Explain yourself, you flaming fool!”
“So you haven’t caught on to that yet? Looks like Foulfang is running a tighter shift than I thought. He’s here, you know, in charge or claiming to be in charge in any case.”
“Wait, you mean this mouth black tark? Foulfang…suits him.”
“That’s him, right. I am the mouth of the dark lord and whatever… He has kept us back to let you do your thing alone and meanwhile he has struck some kind of deal with the big snake, Khuzaymah I think he’s called.”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“So, as far as I get it there are three kinds of the sand snakes. The big snake leads his most loyal tribes from the inner deserts, the poor and hardiest warriors. The ones you have struck are the fat ones, the traders and city snakes. And the third part are the sea snakes down south. So the big one, he’s bought himself some more time on the throne. He would be going straight to the cook pots for not keeping those corsairs in line and forcing us to march here to remind them of their place. But he’s made some kind of deal with Foulfang and gets to keep his throne in exchange for holding back his loyal warriors while we discipline the rest of the sand snakes, which he had failed to do himself. Bet he gets rid of a great deal of his own enemies at the same time.”
“Flaming little snake maggot  ! This wasn’t the plan! We can take them, I tell you! We can take it all, and have the stinking sea snakes serving properly instead of being some kind of lazy flaming leeches like now.”
“Yuh, maybe. But that takes time and it’s you doing it so you would get the credit. Now Foulfang gets the credit because the changed plan is his plan.”
“And I bet he’s yapping all he can about my boys being able to smash through the snakes just because he had dealt his deal with the big snake?”
“Pretty much.”
“That’s the flaming other way around! They come crawling to beg only because I brought them to their knees!”
After this point the discussion became so full of insults and derogation that I will not bother recording it in detail. Malthur is in any case clearly bent on pushing through to the corsairs and take Umbar despite the machinations of this Mouth of the dark lord.Gorbags troops are reinforcing him and if the predictions prove correct there will not be much resistance to be expected before we reach the coast. Is this my fate, I wonder? To see Malthur rise to fight his own side?
Whoever it will be that feels the full force of Malthurs army, I pity him. With Gorbag arrived not only troops but a sizeable amount of siege machinery, new spare parts for catapults and wagons and last and most terrible a great force of new trolls. These are even hardier and tougher than the usual mountain trolls, and clad in horribly thick and heavy iron plates on their chest and arms and head, wielding giant iron maces rather than clubs. I confess that merely watching them makes me shudder and imagine the sickening ways they could beat you to a bloody pulp. Among the orcs, these battle trolls are known as Olog-hai.
Malthur at this point completed the final restructuring of his army, creating what would be his ultimate evolution of the uruk and troll force. It is constituted of four companies of heavy infantry and archers, all uruks, eight companies of troll catapults which make up its main striking arm and lastly the generals retinue and three companies of troll infantry as a mobile force. The signature formation is to divide the force in two equal halves, each becoming a miniature army in itself. The outermost flanks are guarded by the Olog-hai, the strongest troops of all, while the central, adjoining, flanks are held by the less armoured mountain trolls and the generals guard. Between these the heavy infantry takes position with archers behind them and catapults further back. Since the army is split, there will always be one half that has a good line of fire against an enemy, no matter how he may deploy his troops. Either one half will be able to shoot raking shots lengthwise across the formation or both will be able to shoot diagonally through the center of the enemy infantry where the general is most often positioned and the formations are deepest.
To counter such a disposition one would of course wish to isolate one half before the other one can come to its assistance. But in the event of a massed cavalry assault - where the orcs may be inclined to use a more defensive formation in the first place - the catapult crews serve as four companies of mountain trolls in close combat which is a harsh predicament to face for any force of riders.
On the plains of central Harad, this completed formation would be tried out against one of the Gondorian forces that had been trailing the orc armies.
Their commander was a fool, and marched right into the jaws of the dragon.
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dutch speaking
Re: [Third Age MOS AAR] An Orcs Tale - Chapter VII - VI
Domesticus
Frothy Goodness
Foederatus
to rede I me delyte
Domesticus
Primicerius
Originally Posted by Caillagh de Bodemloze
Ooh. That's an interesting situation. But what I'm most interested in is the conversation Cirion's just promised us...
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