Slept late to-day, baking under sunlight in the small goblin fishing boat. My dreams were of crows, dashing strangely through coloured space in some dance. I awoke to find a crow perched on mouldering wood beside me, watching me. I smiled and ordered the Orc fisherman to alter his course, and before long caught sight of a wretched old galley on the horizon. I commenced to whipping the two oarsmen, but when we were less than half an hour away I saw black smoke beginning to twist its way upwards from the ship. Spots of orange light confirmed what I'd suspected--the crazed bitch was burning her own vessel. I then spotted a hateful figure leaping from the craft and disappearing into the waters now glimmering with firelight. Shore was but fifty yards away and I had my pathetic little crew make for it. I stepped onto grey mud and bade the half-blind Orc to take his charges and return to whatever dull life it is he leads. Receiving aid from the crows has given my path a renewed lustre--Mordor's network is with me, and consequently the greygirlbeast's mission has become more interesting. I am not pursuing madness, it seems, and that's why I refrained from striking when I spotted her resting on the beach. On her back with the shape of soft flesh exposed through her soaked tunic, for she had abandoned her armour on the doomed galley, I watched her from concealment and thought of how long it had been since I'd had a human woman. The regrettable state of our side has created a short supply of Enemy slaves, and Orc whores have done little to sate my appetite in these bad years. So I shall watch her for a time and see if I can guess her goal. There are few greater swordsman than myself in this land and I'm confident I may overpower her should the need arise. And I've little doubt the crows are gathering forces to my aid, perhaps even some of the Uruk-Hai I've heard tell of in this region . . .