7 Fourth Age: Triumph

7 Fourth Age: Triumph
Topic Started: 21 Jan 2009, 02:10 PM (94 Views)
Deleted User	21 Jan 2009, 02:10 PM Post #1
Deleted User	The world below the Hills of Evendim moved on without knowing a great power watched over them. From here, the workers rebuilding Annuminas and the soldiers protecting them, looked little more than ants swarming over a crumb. They went about their sorry little lives not knowing what had occurred in Emyn Arnen less than a week ago. Hand of Sauron had messengers with swift wings, however. They had brought him news of his victory. All his plans were falling into place. Dagoras had gained a place of confidence in Minas Tirith, and Niphredil would build him an army of wights. Sindhot, Morion, and Berien were each in their own places, walking the world under the protection of the humans’ belief that Elves would never find alliance with the dark powers. The men of the east and south were behind him, and more legions of Orcs, Uruk-hai, and Wargs were arriving at Atalantë every day. It would not be long now until his forces were ready to begin moving from his fortress. His dark eyes scanned the horizon lovingly, like a painter preparing a masterpiece. It would all be his soon. He saw the pieces moving: the Easterlings taking Rhovanion, while he went to the Shire and three Hobbits paid a dear price for his Lord’s downfall. The Southrons and Corsairs would harry Gondor, keeping Elessar blind to the attack in the North. Then, when Rhovanion and Eriador were under his control, the armies would untie in Eregion and strike hard at the heart of Rohan. When the Rohirrim fell, and Gondor was cut off from all hope of aid, then he would take Elessar’s crown. Annuminas was not undefended, but it was unprepared, not knowing what darkness had taken residence just to their north. It would be so easy to kill these masons and soldiers with archers alone. How many would be dead before they knew an attack was underway? Half? Three-quarters? A devious shadow passed across his face, something which Hand of Sauron called a smile and others saw as a growl. The old sensation of victory was washing over him. He had won this first battle and put fear into the hearts of his enemies. The fear would grow into power. Power would become domination. The corners of his mouth flexed, and the shadow deepened. “I will be your benevolent Lord,” he whispered, to all of Middle-earth, “and reward those who honor me, just as my master Sauron the Great did before me.”
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