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littlemanpoet · 06-02-2005, 08:57 PM

Mabalar was led through a maze of underground corridors, the guards' torchlight the only means to see. He lost all sense of direction as they roughly forced him to walk faster than his chained feet allowed. He tripped often and his knees and shins were streaked with blood. Far ahead he could hear someone shreaking in pain.

At last he was brought into a great dome, the inside of which was lit with red glowing torches. In the center of the dome was an altar on a dais. Standing by the altar was a figure in black. Mabalar knew who it must be. There was a fire on the altar and a stinking smoke rising to the dome's zenith. The figure turned toward him.

Mabalar saw those eyes. They pinned him where he stood. He lost all track of time as Sauron's probing eyes studied him. He felt as if he was being flayed by the tyrant's very glare.

"Bring him forward!" Sauron commanded.

The guards shoved him toward the altar. This was the moment he had dreaded. He caught his balance and did not fall. But now the guards were not forcing him beyond his chains' pace. It was as if they were reluctant to go too near the altar, as if they might be the next victim of the Dark One's whim. Mabalar had dreaded this moment, but now that it was upon him, he found that he was clear of mind and not afraid to die. He feared the pain only.

He came to the dais and climbed the levels, which were just barely within reach of the limits of his chains. The guards did not follow him.

"Ah, Mabalar Melethroch," Sauron whispered, "you see your doom."

06-02-2005, 08:57 PM	#52
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	Inside Sauron's Temple Mabalar was led through a maze of underground corridors, the guards' torchlight the only means to see. He lost all sense of direction as they roughly forced him to walk faster than his chained feet allowed. He tripped often and his knees and shins were streaked with blood. Far ahead he could hear someone shreaking in pain. At last he was brought into a great dome, the inside of which was lit with red glowing torches. In the center of the dome was an altar on a dais. Standing by the altar was a figure in black. Mabalar knew who it must be. There was a fire on the altar and a stinking smoke rising to the dome's zenith. The figure turned toward him. Mabalar saw those eyes. They pinned him where he stood. He lost all track of time as Sauron's probing eyes studied him. He felt as if he was being flayed by the tyrant's very glare. "Bring him forward!" Sauron commanded. The guards shoved him toward the altar. This was the moment he had dreaded. He caught his balance and did not fall. But now the guards were not forcing him beyond his chains' pace. It was as if they were reluctant to go too near the altar, as if they might be the next victim of the Dark One's whim. Mabalar had dreaded this moment, but now that it was upon him, he found that he was clear of mind and not afraid to die. He feared the pain only. He came to the dais and climbed the levels, which were just barely within reach of the limits of his chains. The guards did not follow him. "Ah, Mabalar Melethroch," Sauron whispered, "you see your doom."