The Bright Lord's Loyal Follower

Grunt to Warchief.

Mordor is no place for the weak, only the strong survived and served in the Dark Lord's army. Sauron was set on taking over all of middle earth, and forged an army for himself. In the deep caverns of Barad-dûr, where only the shadows and darkness lurk, orcs from the first age work tirelessly, breeding the next generation of soldiers to serve the Dark Lord. Through the cursed magic of the Dark Lord, from vats of boiling mud was bred a hellspawn known as the Uruk-hai. These Uruks were faster, stronger, and filled with never-ending rage, soldiers that could run and fight for days without the need to stop for food or rest unlike pink-skin soldiers, and only needed grog as fuel. I was born in a vat of fire and tar and was bred for only one purpose: to serve and to destroy. When I was pulled from my hellfire birthplace, I was lined up with a group of my new brothers, and was inspected by the orcs in charge of the breeding. We were given armor and weapons, I was handed a shield and spear and was trained as a defender. My brothers and I were deployed to Udun, to reclaim the Black Gate from the pink skins. We led a fighting force under the command of the Black Captains and slaughtered every pink-skin that dare stood in our way. We remained in Udun to ensure the land remained in Sauron's dominion. I served a captain named Ukbuk the War-born. He pranced around his camp as if he was some special warrior of Sauron's. He sent us on a caragor raid against an enemy captain once, and utterly failed. And again and again, any mission he attempted, he continued to disappoint me and my fellow brothers. I had enough with his failures, and challenged him to a duel, but I made sure my victory was assured. He paraded about thinking he was just putting down another random grunt, but I knew his weakness, Fire! I covered my spear in grog and lit it with fire from our campfire, and bombs that scorched the earth where he stood. Our supposed fearless captain was terrified at the sight of fire, and fell easily beneath my heel as I plunged the fiery blade into him. Once I killed him I claimed his mantle of captain. I was know a leader of a small band of Uruks that raided many camps and slain many captains as we rose through the ranks. I was one of the most feared captains in all of Udun, and proved myself to be a worthy bodyguard of a Warchief. I served him faithfully and fulfilled his every command. Until the day I was sent out for an execution, that was the day everything changed. We were on a ridge, near the cliff where one of our encampments stood. Five uruks were on their knees, hands behind their head, begging for mercy. It was four grunts and a captain who my master wanted dead. After I impaled every one of those grunts and kicked them off the ridge, I moved onto the enemy captain I was supposed to kill. As I stood before him, I holstered my weapons upon my back and reached for his head to pop it off, but we had an uninvited guest. From out of no where, a Ranger shot the bonds loose of the enemy captain and pinned my foot. As I struggled to rip the arrow out of my foot, the enemy captain freed himself from his bonds and fled. I ripped out the arrow and turned toward the Ranger. I said: "You took my kill from me, now I'm going to take your head." I began to charge at him, but he vanished before I reached him. He moved like a shadow, beheading all of my lads. That is when I realized this wasn't some measly tark, but the dreaded Gravewalker that has slain many of our brothers. Half man, half Wraith, the demon and scourge of Mordor. When it was just the two of us, we were locked in on each other ready to strike each other down. Time passed as our weapons clashed and neither one of us were letting up, exchanging blows with each other for what seemed like hours. I was a master of the shield and spear while he was the master of the sword and bow. I was the best combatant in all of Udun, but that was the day I met my match. With grace, the Gravewalker dodged my sweeping blows and my insole attacks, and retaliated with a punch so powerful with his wraith magic it stunned me and he unleashed a flurry of devastating blows. The ground was covered in black Uruk blood, and I fell to my knees in defeat. I remember looking up to him and said: "You bested me, I'm impressed." I was expecting him to cleave my head clean off like many Uruks before me in stories we heard at the fort, but he chose to spare me. He reached out his hand against my face, where the ghost revealed himself. He yelled "Suffer me know!" as he burned his mark into my face. The searing pain was difficult to resist, but I fought it as much as I could, but he was very powerful and made me surrendered to him. He lifted his hand away and stood before me. I kneeled before him and swore my loyalty to him. He had me betray my previous master and made me a Warchief. I was grateful and swore to follow him for the rest of my days. He took his new army of followers and struck down the Tower and the Black Hand of Sauron, cleansing the land with his light. When the Black Gate was in the Gravewalker's control, he set out towards Mount Doom, to take care of some unfinished business. We remained in Udun, guarding it from any who opposed the Bright Lord. Our Warchiefs were some of he most feared Uruks, I was the shield master, there was Pushkrimp the Assassin, master of the crossbow. There was Dushrat the Anvil, the metal beater of our region arming and armoring our forces. Gham Sword Master, he was a great leader for rallying our Uruks behind the Gravewalker's banner. And Prak Trophy Collector, the only Uruk who has slain an entire legion of Sauron's forces on his own, or so he claims. One of our Mystics told us of a prophecy of when the Gravewalker would need us again, we waited for that day, and it finally came.