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Autumn 9 Fourth Age 1430 Shire-reckoning 
the ashes of a black sleep scatter fell {{ WORDS on {{ HOWLING winds |
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| the ashes of a black sleep scatter [MP]; [ closed ] | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 29 2009, 03:36 PM (120 Views) | |
| heatherbee. | Jul 29 2009, 03:36 PM Post #1 |
Andrea's Grasshopper
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Hand of Sauron entered the hollow tomb where once a mighty fire had raged. Mount Doom had emptied its belly of fury on the day the One Ring was destroyed. For ten years, it had slept uneasily and protected a secret Hand of Sauron had entrusted to it. The time had now come to reveal to the world what had dozed undiscovered beneath their watchful eyes. His footsteps echoed over the petrified lava flows. Twenty paces in, he knelt on the black ground and placed both palms on the smooth rock. A tremor of excitement passed through him. As he began to chant the spells in the Black Speech, a shadow grew in the heart of the volcano. The Hand continued chanting, his lips forming a devilish smile between words. How he hoped the unnatural dark could be seen in Minas Tirith and the Havens and all across Middle-earth. The magic bleeding from his body found the tendril in the tomb, and the Hand gasped audibly at the icy bands that gripped his heart. The smile was gone from his lips and replaced with a grimace of excruciating pain. With each minute that ticked by, he felt the rejuvenating life force of the little witches’ magic draining away from him. Finally, after agonizing minutes, he was released from the spell. Hand of Sauron lay prostrate on the ground. Beneath his body, the ground quivered and shook. Amid the pain of releasing the magic, Hand of Sauron found the strength to twitch his lips into a smile. It was working. Today, so many years after making the sacrifice, loyalty would be rewarded with power. |
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| frannibal | Jul 31 2009, 04:48 PM Post #2 |
the [rebel child]
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To say he slept would be a mistake, the spell that was cast upon him all that time ago didn’t slip him into the normal sleep. He didn’t dream, he didn’t experience nightmares or the rest that would come from the sleep of men. Instead time froze around him, and the knowledge that when he finally woke, years would have passed settled over his mind. A constant reminder. That was, until magic woke him, a small spark, a slip of life, something that made his fingers twitch and eyelids flutter. A magic that was dark and full of power. It was this power that almost violently broke through him, seeping back into his mind, and body. Leaking into his bloodstream and wakening the organs and bones that had not moved in almost a decade and giving them strength again. Not enough to be as he was right before the sleep, but enough for his fingers to curl into a fist at the ground shook. He didn’t expect it to hurt so much, that life and power would be painful to him, yet it was nothing to what he had experienced before. An old life. The air was different now, he realized as he breathed in, something that caused him to wince as well. The ground split and gave him freedom, he struggled to actually keep his eyes open from the sudden light hitting them, dilated pupils looking to the man on the floor. The one he knew to be his master, the only one who could release him from the spell. Which meant one thing. The day he had been subconsciously waiting for had arrived, there was magic for the both of them, and there was work to do. "Master" |
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| heatherbee. | Aug 4 2009, 02:52 PM Post #3 |
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Andrea's Grasshopper
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The single word roused him from a world of pain. Master. He stirred, forcing his throbbing limbs to function and hoist him to his feet. He felt light-headed, and reached out a hand to steady himself. The magic in him had weakened considerably. He’d given so much of it to his vassal. Every luxury had a price, and this reunion was worth the cost. When his vision had cleared, he took in the figure standing before him. It was as if time had skipped backwards ten years. He had not realized how deeply he missed his constant companion until this moment when they were reunited. It had been such a lonely road. “Yes, I am your Master, who fulfills his promises to those who are loyal.” He could sense the magic racing through him, rejuvenating what time could not. It felt like a paltry thing. He could not summon a storm again, not for a long time. Everything worthwhile was bittersweet, this Hand of Sauron had learned in his long life. “The world is different than when you went into the deep sleep, my friend. Do you feel it? The tides turned against us for awhile, but they are turning again.” His voice had taken on an old quality, one of power mingled with respect. He sounded not bitter or hateful as he so often did when speaking to his servants, but as he once had in the presence of Lord Sauron the Great. |
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| frannibal | Aug 4 2009, 03:56 PM Post #4 |
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the [rebel child]
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Ten years, it made quite a difference, there were shadows in the other’s eyes that he had sworn had not been there before. He reached down to offer some sort of support, an action he gave without thought or hesitation. The magic tickled the nerves of his fingertips, which caused him to blink a moment in surprise, before redirecting his attention to the Hand. For him, the change in time had been almost instant save for the subconscious thoughts and dreams. The years were but a blink, but the feeling on being reunited with his companion and master was very much there in the back of his mind. Perhaps not as strong, for time had seemed to pass quickly, but it was indeed there. Closing his eyes and relaxing, something akin to disgust traced among his features for a brief moment. “I feel it.” He murmured softly, opening his eyes once again soon after. “The air is different…and the light is also. There is more of it than before…” He glanced briefly around a place that he knew to be familiar, but recognized it very little. As in all that was good and light had infected even the darkest of places. “They are turning in our favour…” he spoke, looking to the Hand for confirmation, not that he really needed it. If it was anything but favourable to them, he would not be standing here right now. |
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| heatherbee. | Sep 9 2009, 01:45 PM Post #5 |
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Andrea's Grasshopper
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He accepted the hand willingly, allowing his oldest friend to lift him to his feet. The touch of another person sent his skin racing. He could not remember when he had last felt contact except to inflict pain. As his physical balance was restored, he felt also as if something else within him shifted into a new focus. “Yes, many have defected or gone into hiding, but I am finding them out and coaxing them back to the true path first forged by Morogoth and Sauron. We have a legacy to continue.” Hand of Sauron crossed the dim cavern to the desolation of Mordor. He motioned for the other to join him at the crack in the mountain, and he pointed to the place where Barad-dur had once stood and where the Black Gates were broken. “Come, and take your rightful place at my side as my second in command.” |
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| frannibal | Sep 9 2009, 11:43 PM Post #6 |
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the [rebel child]
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He watched the older man carefully, his facial features, expressions, body language, everything. Little things that intrigued him, that made him wonder what had happened during his time asleep. Blinking and bringing himself back to concentrate on what his master was saying, the younger man nodded. “…Of course.” Following the other to the crack of the mountain, his footsteps slow as he adjusted to walking again, the young man came to a halt to look out across the land he once knew so well. A light, almost proud smile flashed across his lips for a moment. “Second in command. Your Herald.” He confirmed, the title something he took great pride in. “The Herald of the Black Hand” For that was who he was, who he had been and who he would always be, for as long as his master needed him. |
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Graphics by heatherbee. Small buttons by Tue.
Graphics by heatherbee. Small buttons by Tue.
