Yazneg tracks the company of Dwarves
The lead warg scout Fimbul hangs low to the ground, sniffing for the stinking scent of dwarf. Suddenly the hackles upon his wargs neck rise up in a serrated ridge upon it’s back… the scent of dwarf has been found.
For five days now they’ve sought the company of the Dwarves, because their Master Azog said they would be coming east along the road.
Yazneg hated the lands to the west, he wanted to go back over the mountains in the east and return to the darkness of the forest.
Night had fallen an hour before, and the orcs scouts and their wargs had crept out from under an overhanging rock surrounded by thick brush, where they had rested awaiting nightfall.
The band of orcs were now moving through a wood of black pines along the southern side of the great East Road. Fimbul raised his head and looked back at Yazneg sitting upon his warg. In the Black Speech, with it’s savage and guttural tones, he told Yazneg that a group of Dwarves had indeed passed this way, and there was the scent of another creature amount them, something he’d never smelled before! It was neither man nor elf.
Yazneg raised his scimitar and commanded his orc scouts to spread out on both sides of the Road and look for fire, because these stupid dwarves would certainly be sitting around a visible flame, with no thought for the danger that lurked in the shadows. The orcs raced into the dense underbrush in search of the elusive company.
Azog had sent him out to track the dwarves and he was not to return until their whereabouts had been found. The Master had given him strict orders to do nothing after they were found, but to send word immediately to Weathertop and then watch and wait for his command.
For many hours they searched for the Dwarves until the early hours before dawn, but could find no more trace of them. Yazneg finally called the nights search to an end and told the orcs to make camp in a small dell shadowed by a ridge the rose up in the east and would shield them from the coming daylight.
Yazneg rode up to the top of the ridge upon his warg and looked out across the wilderness to the east. The light of the coming day outlined the Misty Mountains which were now shrouded in mist. Soon the darkness would give way to the dreaded light of another day and the orcs would cower in the shadows until darkness fell once more.
Yazneg was well aware of his peril. Not from any danger he might find here in these western lands, but his life depended on find the dwarves. If he returned to the Master on Weathertop without news of their whereabouts, then he would face the wrath of Azog the Defiler. He must find the dwarves and quickly.