Darth Ultor
IB Expert
- Messages
- 1,043
- Reaction score
- 119
- Gender
- Male
- Religion
- Other
A/N: This story may not conform 100% to canon, I'm taking a lot of creative liberty, while being influenced from God knows how many other sources.
Disclaimer: My last name is not Tolkien, so therefore, the Lord of the Rings, its setting, and characters are not mine. What does belong to me are the characters, the plot, and locations not mentioned in Tolkien's legendarium.
Prologue
A fortress stood hidden within a desolate, uninhabited region of Rhûn. In the main tower, a cloaked figure stood before the fireplace. A wide grin spread across is face for the first time in as long as he could remember, for it was time to reveal himself to Arda. At last, it was time for revenge. The cloaked figure drew in a breath as he waited.
Finally, it came...all he needed to feel was the intense energy in his heart. Almost immediately, the cloaked figure prostrated before the fireplace. "I am at your service, Master." A voice responded approvingly into his thoughts.
"What be thy bidding?" His master did not respond directly, but derisively praised the justice of the Valar. "Justice, master?" the cloaked figure laughed. "The fact that they did not give you a fair hearing says much about them and their 'justice'."
He felt his master frown at this statement. It was indeed time for them to make their move upon Middle-earth and the Valar. After generations, the plan he and his master had been concocting had been laid out. Four ages of preparation had passed. It would not be easy, but he would not make the same mistake as his predecessors. In order for this plan to work, they would need the power of Man to crushed. In these modern times, they would now have the means to achieve this.
However, these thoughts were disrupted by his master's declaration that there was a disturbance in the atmosphere. One who could very well prove to be a threat to everything they had built and everything they had worked for. That threat would need to be neutralized, and soon. With that, his master's presence disappeared.
The cloaked figure turned to leave with a swish of his robes, but was stopped by a knock on the door. "Enter," he said. The door opened, and in walked a squat Orc.
"Well, sir?" the Orc simpered as he bowed. "What does the Master wish?"
The cloaked figure's golden eyes gleamed. "It is time, Saurg," he stated. "Send out messages to our friends." The Orc bowed and scurried away. When the room was once again empty, and the cloaked figure strode slowly to the window, gazing outside at the barren lands of his fortress. Everything was proceeding as he had foreseen.
A/N: Yes, this was annoyingly short; the rest of the story will have decent sized chapters. Don't want to give away too much.
Disclaimer: My last name is not Tolkien, so therefore, the Lord of the Rings, its setting, and characters are not mine. What does belong to me are the characters, the plot, and locations not mentioned in Tolkien's legendarium.
Prologue
A fortress stood hidden within a desolate, uninhabited region of Rhûn. In the main tower, a cloaked figure stood before the fireplace. A wide grin spread across is face for the first time in as long as he could remember, for it was time to reveal himself to Arda. At last, it was time for revenge. The cloaked figure drew in a breath as he waited.
Finally, it came...all he needed to feel was the intense energy in his heart. Almost immediately, the cloaked figure prostrated before the fireplace. "I am at your service, Master." A voice responded approvingly into his thoughts.
"What be thy bidding?" His master did not respond directly, but derisively praised the justice of the Valar. "Justice, master?" the cloaked figure laughed. "The fact that they did not give you a fair hearing says much about them and their 'justice'."
He felt his master frown at this statement. It was indeed time for them to make their move upon Middle-earth and the Valar. After generations, the plan he and his master had been concocting had been laid out. Four ages of preparation had passed. It would not be easy, but he would not make the same mistake as his predecessors. In order for this plan to work, they would need the power of Man to crushed. In these modern times, they would now have the means to achieve this.
However, these thoughts were disrupted by his master's declaration that there was a disturbance in the atmosphere. One who could very well prove to be a threat to everything they had built and everything they had worked for. That threat would need to be neutralized, and soon. With that, his master's presence disappeared.
The cloaked figure turned to leave with a swish of his robes, but was stopped by a knock on the door. "Enter," he said. The door opened, and in walked a squat Orc.
"Well, sir?" the Orc simpered as he bowed. "What does the Master wish?"
The cloaked figure's golden eyes gleamed. "It is time, Saurg," he stated. "Send out messages to our friends." The Orc bowed and scurried away. When the room was once again empty, and the cloaked figure strode slowly to the window, gazing outside at the barren lands of his fortress. Everything was proceeding as he had foreseen.
A/N: Yes, this was annoyingly short; the rest of the story will have decent sized chapters. Don't want to give away too much.
