Dugbúrz's Story by Artano

In Memoriam

By the time they reach Lothlann, Dugbúrz and his companions have found several more of the blue-glazed urns filled with water.  At each one, they remember the sea, taking turns telling each other the tales they have heard, that have been passed down to them from their elders and their elders' elders.  But as they enter the wide, dust-choked plain, they sober, their stories turning to the souls of dead orcs.  Many orcs had died here, most in the service of the High King, but there were some who told stories of other escaped orcs who had lived here and perished in the fires as they swept across the plain.  Several soldiers had come back from the battle, shaken and claiming to have found the charred remains of these orcs.  Those who were too vocal about what they had seen disappeared soon after.  The rest learned to pass on their memories in whispers confined to lonely corridors away from prying ears.

As Dugbúrz and his band of orcs continue to head south towards the mountains said to lie beyond, they pass several scattered bones, most blackened to soot, unrecognizable as either orc or elf.  A few are clearly horse bones from their size, but little can be determined beyond that.  On the second day, they are several hours into their march when they come across a small cairn.  The base is built from charred bones, stacked in an orderly manner, but the top half of the small mound consists of an odd assortment of trinkets, untouched by fire.  And scratched into a rock placed on top of the pile is the mark of the People.  

After several minutes of study and discussion, Dugbúrz and his companions conclude that the cairn marks their path towards the mountains.  But it appears that orcs have passed by since then, they have added small trinkets to the cairn in memory of the People who had died in the fiery onslaught.  For several minutes, the small band of orcs stands around the marker in silence, no sound but the wind brushing over the plain filling their ears.  Then Dugbúrz steps forward.  Silently, he unbraids a metal bead from his hair, one of his most valuable possessions.  He places it reverently between two blackened bones, then steps back as Pushdug leans down, a small scrap of bright fabric held in his hand.  Each orc in the band follows suit, adding their own offerings to the cairn, a silent testimony of those the People had helped towards freedom, even in death.  The last orc ties a braided lock of their own hair around a bone, then steps back with a soft 'until we meet beyond the Sea'.  After one last moment of hushed silence, Dugbúrz and his people continue their journey.