But the tattoo also grew ambitions. It started twitching, stretching, trying to peel itself free. One night, Grom woke to find a black, two-dimensional arm emerging from his shoulder, groping for a knife.
Grom refused. He had a cauldron to test. melkor tattoo
Grom became the most famous chef in the northern strongholds. Orcs traveled miles to taste his “Morgoth’s Gravy” and “Lidless Eye Lentil Soup.” The tattoo never tried to escape again—it was too busy critiquing the roux. But the tattoo also grew ambitions
The problem was, the Melkor standing before him was not Melkor. It was a minor spirit of deceit named Urluk, who had escaped the Void clinging to a discarded Silmaril shard. Urluk had a lovely baritone and excellent stage presence, but he had no idea how to grant cooking powers. So he improvised: he decided to give Grom a tattoo that would become Melkor—a living, breathing sliver of the Dark Lord’s essence, trapped under orc-skin. Grom refused
And to everyone’s surprise, it worked.
Grom twisted. “You’re a drawing.”
Grom was left alone with a sentient tattoo of a god.