2933 Third Age
Ufghâsh, me brother, 'e tole the cap'n. "No use ambushin' them thar stinkin' tarks! Them's the Grey Marauders with 'em." But the cap'n — 'e jus' licks 'is lips an' looks over 'is shoulder, like someone's watchin'.
Me an' Ufghâsh should of run off then.
The cap'n orders me ter shoot the biggest tark, aimin' at 'is 'eart. But the blasted arrer must of bin crooked.... So what if it stuck in 'is eye? Killt 'im jus' as dead!
I'll never ferget tha' screech o' rage from one o' them fearsome grey elfs — terrible it were, raised me 'ackles right good!
I were s'posed ter snatch an 'orse — the meat bein' almos' tasty as elfs, but a sight easier ter catch. But when the tark fell, 'is stinkin' 'orse kicks me in the 'ead, an' I lands in a gully.
When I wakes up, the sun were 'igh, an' it were too quiet — 'cept fer crows squawkin'.
Everthin' kep' spinnin', till I downed some strong 'ealin' draught. Works a treat....
I crawled out o' the ditch, wantin' ter find t'others, grab me brother an' leg it.
I found Lúgnuk — leastways, I thinks so... not sure, 'cause 'e were 'acked ter bits.