Evil Middle-Earth Roleplay in Full Swing!

Today, Jerry Wargate updates us on the state of affairs in Mordor, where our group has been playing a different sort of game...the Evil game! 

Captain Video shows his enthusiasm for Evil Roleplay.

Our evil heroes to be started their campaign just a stones throw East of Orodrim, in a place called The Forge. All Orcs started as grunts in the Dark Lords army. The mighty warlord Boss Nokk made sure to work, starve and beat the recruits into a battle-ready unit over three weeks of grueling trudging through the South of the Morgai.

Capturing escapees from the forges, battling packs of wild dogs, and extreme marches under the darkness of the Moon were part of the rise to Soldier rank. Nokk gave the soldiers rank and mark of the red eye as reward for service and slavery to his Dark Majesty.

Not all recruits have made it alive. Three have died in total, one death resulting from internal squabbles within the Unit.

This last weeks' adventure found Nokk ordering the Unit to stalk into Ithilien in search of Forlorn the Toothlord, an Ogre who was behind in his tribute to the Eye. Our group ran into a few unexpected happenings but came out in the end Victorious over the Toothlord, ensaring his wargling tribute in capivity to be sent back to Mordor.

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As Snurg the Droop removed his axe from Facebiter's ruined head, he turned to address his fellow orcs in the unit.  He'd made an example of the insolent Facebiter, and fully expected to be killed immediately by the rest of the unit.  However, he fully expected to kill one or two more before they got him.


No one moved.


"That's it!" Snurg bellowed, looking intently at all the orcs clustered around Facebiter's corpse and all the silver flaps he had in the chest.  The Droop kicked at the chest savagely, spilling flaps everywhere.  
"What this lot needs is a propa' boss!  You weedy lot bicker and dribble snot, and I've had my fill of your rabble!" 


Snurg looked to the north, and could see the fire of Mt. Doom.  "Can't you feel it?!" he continued, half-delirious with whatever passes for religious conviction in orcs.  "The Great Eye is upon us!  No more fighting, no more stealing...stick with Snurg, and I'll make sure that we get our fair share!"


Snurg the Droop cast about, looking for dissension, clutching his axe and buckler.  His hunched form, with it's comically long nose and ears tended to be the subject of many jokes, and now that he had challenged for leadership, he knew he had to drive the point home. After long moments, he let forth a strong bellow.


"I get two shares!"