Snippet #2484770

(Let's get this shit revived, people :3 I tagged all of you so you would know my intention. We must get this ball rolling again!)
It is a beautiful, clear-skied day. The sun shines bright on a field of pure blue, illuminating the flowing green and gold fields of Eastemnet, much to the chagrin of Gorthak the Piercer, one of the leaders of Saruman's Fighting Uruk-hai. He looks over his shoulder at his legion, shielding his eyes from the annoyance that is the sun and growling at the competence of his troops. He prides himself on having one of the best-trained troops in Isengard's force, though the accuracy of that is disputed by some. Today, though, he simply needs to kill something. He hasn't seen battle in a long while, and executing incompetent Orc Snagas had gone from fun to grating. If he didn't get to feast on some man-flesh prior to getting to Helm's Deep, he just might go mad(er).

As luck would have it, heading in their direction was a large detachment of Rohirrim Forces, lead by an equally ill-tempered Rohan Captain named Mordren whose weary men had just had a run in with White Hand warg riders. They had defeated the riders with few casualties, but the experience of chasing down and killing riderless wargs was one that could make any man or horse tired and annoyed, and his men had the same general feeling. Currently he just wanted to run into some small band of Uruk-hai or Orc scouts to make short work with an raise the morale of his men.

Neither were close enough to spot each other just yet, but their meeting is inevitable, and wherever the Horse Lords and the White Hand meet, there's sure to be blood, black or red...

(Also...ignore the "Ian" character I tagged. He'd been rejected already. Not sure how he got on there.)