It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you of the death of your spawn, Glogz.
Glogz was a terrible creature. Vile, short-tempered, violent and foul-smelling.
That alone should make you proud.
But he also died like an orc. When it came time to ignite a bomb, he sacrificed himself. I didn’t even ask him to do that! He could have lit the fuse with a flaming arrow or flicked some matches at it or something. But no, Glogz grabbed a giant sparkler and blew himself to pieces. That kind of stupid and pointless self-sacrifice is vintage orc. If I had more orcs like Glogz… well, I’d have fewer orcs like Glogz, I guess. But I might have that god damn ring. And that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Getting me that god damn ring.
Reports from the field say he took two arrows to the chest from one of those Elves (they’re such douches) but kept running until his job was complete. Muscling through that kind of pain takes commitment. Dedication. Selflessness.
And a really, really slow nervous system.
Good thing I bred you all that way! Ha-ha!
Please know that you have my deepest respect for having spawned such a horrid offspring and my thoughts are with you in these difficult times, etc. etc. Oh, whatever, you don’t really care, do you?
Any-hoo, I must go as there’s someone at the door.
Ha-ha! It’s a tree! Why would there be a…
Saruman the Many-Colored