I had a plan, and that plan needed troops. Troops that could be trusted. Troops that would follow orders and would not fall to looting the instant victory was at hand. What I got for my first raid out of the confines of Mordor was not exactly what I had envisioned.

Let me introduce you to "The Basher Unit". This unit was based out of Isenmouthe, one of the least desirable units in Mordor. Due to its location, the troops there see very little action, and it is thus garrisoned mostly by new recruits, the old and the just plain stupid. I got the stupid ones.

The journey from Minas Morgul to Isenmouthe was uneventful...a good omen if living in Mordor. However, upon my arrival to the main caverns and tunnels of Isenmouthe, things took a turn for the worse. It struck me as odd that no sentries were posted upon the southern gates. We do not normally get intruders from this direction, but I expected at least a score or two! There were none because all were involved in a heated argument over which one of them was going to "take over Mordor" when Sauron left (he had just recently gone sailing for an extended time ... yes, he likes to sail. What of it??!!).

After getting their attention by crushing the most vocal of the lot, I soon learned the location of the Basher Unit, and went about my way to locate them. No sooner had I left them, when the sounds of fighting erupted from behind me. The idiotic guards began fighting over the recently crushed orcs' meager belongings. At this point, I knew this mission was going to be rough.

As I made my down the dimly lit, twisting tunnels, I heard the sounds of metal on metal clanking in a rhythmic fashion. Definitely not sword-play sounds, yet a steady series of "klink/clack" "klink/clack". Curious, I followed the sounds and nothing could have prepared me for what I saw ... Dozens upon dozens of orcs, stripped to the waist, lifting weights!!! They were posing in front of polished shields, flexing their muscles, admiring themselves. These guys were not just big, but BIG!!! The room reeked of stale sweat, oil for polishing weapons (which I think they smeared on themselves because they all glistened in the torchlight) and some strange smell, which I later learned was a special drink they devised to help them grow even more muscles. As I stood dumbfounded in the doorway, they continued their routine: arm curls, leg lifts, squats, tricep curls, push ups ... you name it! I was speechless. These guys were muscle heads!!!! How am I gonna sneak these guys anywhere? I glanced over to the armor racks...there was none! I asked one of the orcs nearby, "Where is your armor, soldier?" He replied, "duhhh we don’t wear any stinkin armor ’cause den we can’t show off our muscles". Then he flexed for me. I continued to stare, mouth wide open, at this spectacle, asking myself if it was too late to consider joining the Hobbit army.

After quickly pushing that sickening thought out of my head, I returned to the task at hand: how to turn this bunch of over-muscled orcs into a respectable fighting unit. I looked around the cavern and saw a pile of huge hammers. I figured these were the weapons of choice for these muscle-heads and quickly deducted the reason for their unit name. If this is what I have to work with, then so be it. "ALL RIGHT YOU LOUTS...DROP EVERYTHING AND FALL INTO RANK NOW!" I shouted. If nothing else, they were enthusiastic. Soon I had a mish-mash assembly of the biggest orcs in the Mordor army standing before me. A few picked their noses, a clear sign that they were paying close attention to my words. "I HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED AS YOUR SQUAD LEADER FOR A VERY IMPORTANT MISSION." Their blank stares told me they were riveted." WE ARE GOING TO ASSAULT, BY BRUTE FORCE, OVERWHELMING SUPERIORITY, AND WITH EXTREME VIOLENCE, A CARAVAN OUT OF GONDOR." I thought I heard crickets chirping in the back of the room, it was so quiet. I thought I had better put it in terms they understand. "WE ARE GOING TO SMASH HUMANS" This they understood, and a wave of enthusiasm swept over the men, as they began to high-five each other, pat each other on the back. As the men began to assemble their weapons and get ready to depart, chants of "kill the humans, kill the humans, we are going to kill the humans" came from the room. Now, how to make this a fighting force worthy of Mordor?