Gathering of the wicked

Skulking in one of the hidden corridors, Kyleria’s black skirts swept the cob webbed and dusty floor. The sickly and eerie ghost lamps of Baradur’s upper halls glowed with the magic that filled the tower. Mist and shadows cloaked the upper halls. Cold mist that leant an air of terror and instilled fear. The shadow stalker paused as she felt ghostly fingers coast up her spine, disembodied and she glanced over her shoulder. “I’m going, I’m going” murmuring to the wraith that stalked behind her herding her towards Sauron’s throne room. She did not want to be before he who was shapeless, the master of werewolves. He that had been the Lieutenant of Morgoth. If he was cruel than his master has been monstrous and devastating.

In the bones of the tower she walked, iron and black cloth behind her. The stones breathed wondrous tales to her of the powers within the ground as she walked. Kyleria groaned in frustration. She could feel amid the stones of the Tower's bones the magic. Pausing against a wall. Panting as the magic ensnared her senses tortured her. A whine escaped from her throat. “Khamûl” she whined to the wraith as she had to close her and settle her mind, forcing her mind shielding to protect her sanity from the power that tingled her skin. The power she could not control. The power that The Witch King had tried to tame. To teach, now that Khamûl too was trying, though he sought to steal her loyalty for his own. Warring factions within Sauron’s dark court.

She would never wear the robes of an Istari with a focus stone. “Let’s see what mood he is today” she muttered as the walk resumed and from a side door they into a massive room, the ceiling held up by pillars at least fifteen feet wide each and soaring a good thirty feet upwards. The room felt cavenarous. Filled with orc captains and werewolves, Sauron’s most beloved of creatures.

Kyleria glowered at one of the wolves that lounged in her way. Hissing at the creature which raised smoldering amber eyes. “Move” her voice lowered to a growl. The wolf’s hackles raised and bristled at the challenge and Kyleria gave a cruel smile. The flashes of her own sharpened teeth which she gnashed at the wolf that challenged back. Before deciding backing down was a better option.

“I’d watch your back if I was you” the wolf snarled in the harsh tone of black speech as Kyleria walked passed. The red head whirled around and from her belt came a quick flashing blade, which sailed through the air and embedded in the jugular of the wolf. “Problem solved” snapping though she would feel the heat which flared in the room as Sauron made his presence known. And Kyleria would take her place sitting at the edge of Sauron’s stone chair. Her eyes drifting up to Khamûl at his left.

As the black stallion rode upon the darkened plains, a Maiar sat upon his throne in wait. His long claw like finger nails scratched the arm rest of his throne in slight anger. Patience was never a strong suit for the chief lieutenant of Morgoth. Though on this day, he will wait and he will wait with patience that he never deemed possible. The Great Eye; lidless, wreathed in flame was upon them this day in a form that none have been able to see in such a long time.

Rhoran, his voice called out in a dark and eerie hiss. The voice could be heard in the man’s ear, whispering to him in the silence of the plains. The horse, carrying such a warrior, stopped in its tracks in warning. An amused smile appeared on the Dark Lord’s face as he continued to sit and wait. "Master, the man approaches!” Go and greet our honored guest. And do not try to kill him before he gets through my doors.


One by one, Khamûl and the others wraiths approached the throne room. Kyleria, the elf, was with them as well. Good. Let this thing of light become filled with the eternal darkness that which is Sauron, himself. He will rule these lands and all of Arda. Each and everyone of these worthless creatures will bow before their new master; Sauron’s task would not fail. "Master," the wraith said as he bowed first before sitting down. "I believe your guest shall be through the doors any moment now.”

So I keep hearing, Khamûl. Sauron sarcastically said as he looked towards his doors. They opened with a loud creek; werewolves snarled and bit at the man, giving warning to him to tread lightly on the path to their Master. Rhoran, welcome to Barad-dûr. I have been expecting you. A small, wicked smile appeared on the Maiar’s face, watching the man pant from how many stairs he had to climb. Perhaps the heavy armor weighed the man down. Perhaps the man should’ve walked on more tread with said armor to not wear down as such.

With a wave of his hand, his pets stopped immediately with the snarling and biting. Foolish creatures. Sauron should have known better than to make such a foolish type of creature remain in his throne room. He now focused on the man that had approached his throne, bowing, taking off his helmet right at his feet; good.

A werewolf though was out of line. Sauron knew it would learn its place soon enough since the man before him had his hand engulfed in flames. If it died, Sauron cared not. If it was that ignorant then let it die. Khamûl, by his side, seemed more interested in the she-elf than the man before them. Did he not have his full control on this wraith? Sauron’s power focused on the wraith, having total control now over the shadow figure. There. Now the damned thing would surely quit with his infatuation.

"You honor me my lord with your presence and allowing me into your tower. Few men can claim to have been invited to be before the dark lord freely. May I ask why you have summoned me, my lord?"


The man before him spoke with such a smirk on his face, making the Maiar’s own face smirk for but a moment. True, but there is none that can claim that they left here alive. The Dark Lord looked towards his nazgûls, eyeing them all before staring back at the man before him again. I have summoned you for an important reason. I acquire your services in order to reclaim what is mine; Carn Dum. Will you, I wonder, join us in reclaiming and invading the land?

What do you say, Rhoran? You and my armies will be fighting for what is your Dark Lord’s.