Board Thread:Middle Earth Roleplays/@comment-25344655-20170709222933/@comment-31215921-20170714044252

Far to the north, deep within the halls of Carn Dûm, the Witch-king of Angmar sits upon his dark throne, in a grand room illuminated by a sickly light. Before his throne are his nine servants, powerful sorcerers who have dedicated themselves to serving him.

"One-hundred years ago Angmar suffered a humiliating defeat despite isolating Arthedain. One-hundred years go our war was hindered, and our armies grew too few for us to finish it. One century has passed and yet our armies are still not ready for battle. Those of you who were tasked with rebuilding our armies have failed me in your negligence."

One of them steps forward.

"My king, it would take several hundred more years for us to develop the armies to the extent you wish. I beg that you give us more time, and in doing so you will not be disappointed with our work. We would sooner cast ourselves from the heights of Carn Dûm than displease you, oh mighty king."

From the Witch-king there came a noise like a loud, lingering outward breath, but it was not so.

"Take pleasure knowing that I am not as cruel as my Master was when he sat upon the throne. Some day you shall know of what I speak, but until then it is I whom you must serve. I shall grant you five-hundred years, not a day more. Do not fail me, or you may not receive such mercy as you have today. Go forth, amass my armies."

As they turn around to walk away, the Witch-king says,

"Goth-Burguul*. Stay, for I wish to speek with you."

He complies.

"You have proven many times your worth, and you have yet to disappoint me."

Bowing his head, he responds, "I am grateful for your praise, my lord, but it is not so. Our failure to the Elves was my fault, and mine alone. You entrusted me to be your captain, but I was a weak fool, and I was still as a mortal."

"Mortal you may have been, but that is no more. You are now strong and powerful, and you have yet to grasp what you are capable of. The will of Melkor favors ypu, Goth-Burguul, and you have yet to truly disappoint me. I advise you keep it that way."

Looking up, Daechir responds, "I will not fail you. Is there anything else you would have of me, my lord?"

The Witch-king says, "There is nothing. You may take your leave."

He bows before his king and leaves. As he exits the royal hall, he steps into the cold air under the dim skies of Angmar. He feels inspired by the words of the Witch-king, eager to please him and discover his true power. He takes in the view of the Grand City Square, then up at the Witch-king's halls, and then at the mountain towering above. Looking at all of this, before making his way to his dwelling, he thinks to himself,

"If I ruled Angmar, I would build a tower at the top of that mountain."