If anyone happened to be reading minds at the moment, they might catch Miron musing at how useful learning the Orcish language would be.
Gwaelur agrees to help Mulligan look for any remaining live orcs in the area.
And grumbles to himself in Dwavish as he walks away from the elves:
Now they are speaking in Elvish to each other. This party needed another elf like I need a hole in my head. Intolerable.
The ref would like to know what the party wants to do with the live but unconscience orc that was found?
Well SOP for our group is to tie them up and question the bejezus out of them. It’s worked for us in the past, I see no reason to change that. Plus it will keep Ghan for yelling at any of us. That’s my vote.
Just want all to know how difficult it is for a wise-ass and bad punster like me to avoid saying stupid things, both in and out of character. I won’t always show this control.
While Renee is attending to Brin’s injuries, Brin attempts to milk the situation for a little extra attention, with a sly grin over to Thoroncir when Renee (he hopes) isn’t looking.
Gwaelur, we need to find you another lil’ Dwarf buddy!
GM, did the Sea-Knight find anything of note on the orcs’ corpses?
Thoroncir understands Elvish, and smiles to himself at what little he overheard of the Elves’ conversation. He’s very impressed by the sight of Sting, of course, and wonders if Elfstan might also be wearing a mithril vest of no little fame.
He says, “By all means, let us interrogate the surviving orc. Ghan should do it, if he is willing; he has a certain skill in such matters. I suggest he put the usual questions to our prisoner as to its origin, master, tribe, destination, and so on.” He will draw his sword and stand ready to protect Ghan during the questioning.
He sees what Brin is up to and scowls… but is secretly amused.
Sadly for Brin, Renee’s senses are superior to Brin’s as is of course her intelligence and wisdom.
That last bandage went on with a wee bit more force that usually. “Careful Brin, too much excitement might be bad for your injuries.”
Ghân suggests we interrogate the orc, offering a sentence of working on the road building gang in exchange for co-operation.
When there is time (e.g. end of a quiet day), Ghân will plant a few seeds of his paralysing plant and Plant Growth them to share with Miron.
Assuming there is nothing more he can do for Riglo, Miron begins to move towards the orcs, as if to search them for items of value, but he recoils in a sharp, almost violent motion as he realizes that harmful magical items might be among the bodies. As a newfound respect for their treasure finders dawns in his mind, he decides to go help out with the interrogation by drawing his cloak up to obscure his body, pulling his hood down to cover most of his face, sitting just outside of the orc’s line of vision, and staring menacingly at him.
(Brin)As he stands up and stretchs, pleasantly surprised at the completeness of the healing, he says (to no one in particular), “Ah well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Then Brin, again hoping to avoid Renee’s watchful eye, winks at Thoroncir.
“Another prisoner. Soon we’ll need to set up a POW camp. Ah well, while our captains decide what to do, I’ll help clear up the other bodies.”
“After we locate anything valuable,” Miron ventures, curiously watching Brin from a distance, hopefully safely out of range of whatever dangers he sees in a pile of dead orcs, “We should gather any distinctly orc weapons, particularly arrows, in a separate pile: there might come a time when we find ourselves in enemy territory, and it might help confuse trackers if we were to contaminate future battlegrounds with orc weaponry.”
Elfstan also caught what he could of the talk between Gil-Gandel and Miron, but was probably lucky to know one word in ten if that.
You mean other than this pretty blatent one, right? 
Elfstan sighs about the voice that he’s been hearing in his head lately. Surely it just spoke to him loudly enough for the whole party to hear.
“Gwaelur, before you go on your search, I do have one more thing to show the party. It might be of particular interest to you.”
With that, he opens his shirt and cloak to reveal a splendid ringmail coat.
“Pretty, isn’t it?”
He pauses to let everyone look.
“This is the mithril coat that was given to Old Bilbo by Thorin Oakenshield. It too was passed down to me. I hope you will understand if I am reluctant to wear it openly or announce that I have it. It’s said to be worth more than the entire Shire and everything in it. That seems silly to me, but it remains the truth. I hope I can trust all of you to not spread word of this?”
After giving Gwaelur and the rest a chance to examine the mithril shirt, Elfstan once again conceals it. He then sets about to making a supper for the party completely oblivious to the value of what he is wearing. Strange indeed are Hobbits. He appreciates the beauty of the mithril shirt, but no more than he appreciates fresh grass under foot or a fine meal. The value he places in it is the link to those who wore it before him and that it will help keep him safe and return him to The Shire.
Ghân reassures Elfstan that Ghân’s wooden armour is more valuable to him than any mithril.
Brin is only concerned with collecting the bodies in a pile so that they can be disposed (cremated, if it can be done safely - don’t want to get on Smoky the Bear’s bad side). They can be searched before or after, matters not to him. While a pouch may be booby-trapped, it is very unlikely that much more might be. That’s a good way to end up dead by your own hand in a fight.
**The orc is still unconscious and bleeding from his devastating wound. **
The orcs each have small pouches, skinning knives, sharpening stones, some cord, decent short bows, about a dozen arrows each and either a long knife or short sword of average orc make quality. They also have hooded light hooded cloaks and wide brimmed floppy hats. At least one hat was destroyed and most of the cloaks are bloody and torn.
The very injured orc has a set of well made chain mail and an excellent Short Composition Bow, probably made by the Haradrim. These hunters carry no treasures, just the minimum for a hunting expedition.
There is of course that deer back at their camp.
On seeing the Mithril Shirt, Renee says, “That is the very shirt my Dad told me stopped an Uruk Chieftain’s heavy spear charge. It is more marvelous than I imagined or he described.”
She then says in swift quiet Sindarin, “Be careful my elven companions, many on this party have knowledge of the Elven tongue. It is the language of those of Minas Tirith that are interested in lore or the Eldar days.”
OOC - is that a tell, What Exit? If I recall, we are not supposed to know Renee’s dad.
Thoroncir says to Renee in Sindarin, “That is so, my lady. Please, will you attend to the orc’s wounds, that he may be healed and questioned by our Wose friend?”
Elfstan is beginning to make supper… very kind, but is it time for that yet? Perhaps we might cook and dine on the deer, if it comes to that.
D_Odds, if I may fanwank, the story might be well-enough-known that any gentleman of Minas Tirith could have told her… not just a Dunedain who happened to be in the Moria burial chamber when it happened. Or maybe she just slipped and revealed more than she meant to.
Renee sees to the Orc, she hesitates. “It will take a spell to help this one and he will still be in bad shape. I will do so, but you cannot think about threatening him with death after I do so.”
PM sent to D_Odds & Elendil’s Heir
I see I lost track of in game time there. It’s probably only 1:00 or 2:00pm. Ummm… consider Elfstan to be doing some other trivial task.
That is a fine shirt of mail boy, and I trust you are keeping it as well as it is keeping you. You may not appreciate it now, but the time will come I assure you. I will keep mum on your secret though, but it is a pleasure to know we have such fine metalwork with us in our party.