[Bêthberry]

Kiara's post:


A feeling of unrest and brooding fury emanated from the fortress of rock where a dark figure stood, it's shadow stretching grim and long over the glowing walls of the tower....Though "glow" did not adequately describe the luminous quality of the stone. For, where the brilliance of moonlight once did well, now this tower, this fortress of death and despair radiated not those gentle beams, no. A corpse-light, it was. Not dark from the absence of light, but pale with a sickly gleem as the skin of someone recently past retains the signs that life once dwelled within. Like that self-same husk, discarded when the spirit flees the flesh for a better world, the spirit of Gondor had fled this fortress shell, and the glory and the brilliance that once shone in Minas Ithil was not warped to its demonic and sorcerous purpose. For this was Minas Morgul, Tower of Sorcery.

A once-white bridge yawned across the river which divided the lands of men from Mordor. Silent and creeping, the only sign of its existence was the heavy vapor that clung in the air about the legs of the bridge. Just as the vaporous shadow of the Witch-king clung about him as he stood on the marbled Morgul walls.

The Morgul-king made his presence known, now upon the battlements of his city, schreeching his message of doom to the land laid to waste about him. Even the flowers that still held tenaciously to the dark fields about leered with the sickly palor of the undead, a ghastly reminder of the Ringwraiths within. Day and night, for neither could be ascertained in this land of shadow, the Nazgûl screamed their fearsome reply to their lord, ever increasing in intensity as the Nameless Lord of their land urged them to action on his behalf. Their lusting increased with his, for long had they been subdued to his resistless, relentless will. In agonies of desire, therefore, they watched and waited for their time had almost come

...soon....soon....soon....doom. They had need of but nine simple things....