Helm's Deep Was a Mistake

Helm’s Deep Was a Mistake!

To the Race of Men, in particular the citizens of Rohan:
I am Grunok, Uruk-Hai, sole survivor of the fiasco at Helm’s Deep. I say fiasco because the whole thing was a misunderstanding. And you, race of Men, need to know that!

Before I continue with that, I must speak about another incident. Lurtz and Ugluk. Those guys were renegades. Completely rebellious and out of control! They just scampered out of Isengard with a group of about one hundred of our boys, yelling something about Halflings prancing around out East, and about our entertainment. It is believed they got into Dad’s private stash of drink. Dad, you call him Saruman, drinks a lot. And when he drinks he says stupid stuff. He’s always looking at this bloody stone and talking to birds, so I imagine Lurtz overheard something about the Halflings. You know the story about Amon Hen. Lurtz got what he deserved.

Now, Dad had a hard time making us. I can understand why he had to drink every so often! Several occasions, his creations went wrong. These Uruks were insane! Out of their minds with murder!  Well, Dad felt sorry for them, didn’t want to kill them, and he just put them in their own “play area” with our doggies, the Wargs. Next thing you know, the lock was left off the gate to the nutty Uruks’ half of Isengard, and they took off with a great deal of our armor and arms that were being stocked up to go and fight against Mordor! Those are the Uruks the Rohirrim and your valiant Prince, Theodred had to fight.

I’m so sorry for the wrong that your guys received at the Fords of Isen, and the ravaging of the Westfold. Curses! It makes me wince with a sense of shame that such a mistake led to such trouble!

Okay, so now we come to Helm’s Deep. Man! What a mess of confusion! Dad had the rest of us get ourselves ready to march out East to battle the Lord of the Rings. Well, we decided to bake the people of Rohan a record-breaking batch of delicious chocolate chip cookies, and stop by Edoras - on the way to fight Mordor’s hordes - to bring you this gift of peace and apology for the troubles.

Along the way, we heard that everyone travelled to Helm’s Deep. We assumed it was a festival or something and thought it was the perfect opportunity to get everyone together for cookies! So we changed course a bit, no big deal.

We arrived at night, didn’t have any candles for greeting, and the next best thing was our torches. Believe me, the expenditures for manufacturing our gear to fight Mordor sent Dad into hock. We couldn’t afford candles after all that. He had to take out a loan against Orthanc! The monthly bill is atrocious!

Anyway, there we were, before the walls of Helm’s Deep, and we saw that you all had come out to see this massive greeting. We began to sing our song, stamping our spears to the ground in a steady tempo.
“We’ve come to say we’re sorry,
We’ve come to say it’s true.
Let’s put the past behind us.
We’ve baked some cookies for you!”

Of course none of us knew Mannish at the time, so we could only sing it in our own language. I think that was the biggest problem with this whole thing. Not to mention we’re not as melodic as the Elves are. . . . . Sorry.

Next thing you know, one of your guys shot an arrow at one of ours!

I distinctly remember Hogznorg, I called him Thomas, yelling “No! Wait!” And he brought up his ladder to climb and speak with you all closer. I don’t know how he was going to relay any friendly message you could understand - since he couldn’t speak Mannish! However he was the first casualty of that conflict. Let’s take a moment of silence to remember my friend, and could’ve been yours – Thomas Hogznorg. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Oh, and the Uruk you hit with an arrow? He didn't die right away. So technicaly, Thomas was the first casualty

Okay, Thomas fell, and that set something off inside these guys. Some fluke of internal bio-malfunction (I’ve had a lot of years to study since those days). The sight of fighting betwixt our two cultures just set it off! There were a few thousand of us that protested the fighting, and we just fell to the back of the army. Our words went unheard by the Uruks that were so enraged. So we just did our own sit-in protest.

The night dragged on until our crack team of Berserks and Sappers were told to bring in this awesome weapon – you saw it – this was completely uncalled for! Totally over the line! Blowing up your walls was just low. I know the property damage and expenses, not to mention time and labor, was monumental for you all. Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk.

Speaking of that weapon – we had about five hundred of those things we were taking to Barad-Dur to bring it down! Our idiots figured they could spare one for this terrible, cultural squabble.

We all know how the night played out. In hindsight, because of the culture and language barriers, we should’ve just dropped off the cookies at Edoras and continued on to Mordor.

And, man, if I would’ve known what the morning would bring – we would’ve been out of the Deep by midnight! The sun comes up, Gandalf shows up, and 2000 horsemen show up! We were actually elated, cheering and everything! We knew Gandalf was just like our Dad, and he could for sure explain to Theoden that we meant well. Again, though, the language barrier got in the way. We all have sensitive eyes, as far as the sun goes, and we were blinded by the morning sun, so we lost sight of Gandalf. Next thing you know we were overrun with no chance to work that situation out at all.

At that moment we collectively said “Forget this!” and ran out of there quick! I still had enough wits about me to realize, however, that there was a forest enclosing the Deep. After all the crazy stuff that happened over that twelve-plus hour course, I wasn’t about to go in there! Everyone else was too wacked out to understand the presence of the forest, and now they’re gone. That whole detour from going to beat up the Lord of the Rings should never have happened. Perhaps if we would’ve just waited until after we helped defeat Mordor, we could’ve all sat around for some tea and scrumpets! So sad . . . . . . .

And don’t even get me started on the Wild Men of Dunland! They were smokin’ something. That’s all I know.
They just – wouldn’t – leave us – alone!!!!!!!