[CaptainofDespair]

The sun had just broke over the horizon, and the denizens of Eregion were awakening to what they hoped would be another peaceful day. But, all was not well, and the sentries stationed upon the walls knew it. There were no birds in the sky, no wilderness creatures meandering their way down to the river. It seemed as if all had been silenced, gripped by in terror of shadow and malice. Some murmured, and brushed it off as what would be a stormy day. Others, especially the veteran sergeants, felt something else. And then, they saw them.

Rising out of the horizon, the fluttering banners of Mordor and its allies billowed in an early morning breeze. The time had come, they thought, for battle. The on-duty commander was immediately notified, and he dispatched a runner to his awaken his superiors. But, to all of their surprise, it was only a minor force; a probe if anything, they hoped. It was no great army of Mordor descending upon them, and for that at least they were relieved.

~*~

To Angoroth, it was like every other Elven city he had seen. There were greater cities to him. But, it was impressive nevertheless. He admired the structure they lived under, something the orcs his camp was overrun with knew nothing of. Having not been to a city of such magnitude since the First Age, he was quite pleased to see some form of culture. Captain Ulrung, his newest in a line of inept commanders, who so far was proving useful, had accompanied him to meet the Elves.

“This is what we have come to destroy, Captain.” Puzzled at the sudden outburst of his lord, he could only reply with a hesitant “Indeed, milord.” Questions flowed through the wainrider’s mind, and he wondered if now was the best opportunity to find out what was going on, exactly. After some internal deliberation, he piped up. “Milord, what exactly are we here for?” A deep, resonating laugh emanated from the barbute that covered the face of Angoroth. “We…are here for many things, Captain Ulrung. Our foremost concern is destroying the city, and slaying the Elves.” Without much hesitation this time, Ulrung spoke up again. “But, why are we here to destroy them? What purpose is there in this?” Angoroth was chuckling to himself now, amused at the inquisitiveness of his young protégé. “They have done many wrongs to the Dark Lord of Mordor. For this, they must pay. There are, of course, other reasons. But, they will be revealed on their own, in time.” Ulrung nodded, and they both fell into silence, sensing a sort of confrontation was near.

The Elves were shocked that only a handful of troops were being sent so close to the city. But, as it drew nigh, they realized it had a slightly different purpose. Under orders, they allowed it to draw close to the main gatehouse. A lone commander waited beneath it, with a small escort for his protection, though they all doubted an outright attack from their enemy. Angoroth, leaving Ulrung and their small cavalry bodyguard, approached the anxious elf lord. “Stay your blades, elves. I come without hostility, for now.” Taken back by the bluntness of their enemy, the elf-commander gave a seemingly routine reply. “What is your purpose here, servant of Mordor?” A nod and an inaudible chuckle led the way for Angoroth’s demands. “First, I will not speak to one such as you, as you are beneath me. Second, I come to speak only with the Lord of the City; or, if he cannot be bothered to tend to the whims of his enemy, a counselor of some form.” The commander, again, was taken back by this. Unsure of what to do in such a politically charged moment, he turned to an aid, and dispatched him to acquire the presence of their lord, or a counselor.

Patiently, though it did not quite seem so to those observing the dire situation, Angoroth waited for someone of importance to meet with him. Finally, that person came. Another male elf, though this one was arrayed in attire befitting a counselor. And that is who it was. Maegisil was his name, or at least that is what was gleaned from what he overheard as the elf-counselor approached. Bowing, though it seemed like a mockery of the formality, he spoke in a brief manner. “Why have you come here, dark one? Have you come to mock the Elves?” As if to mock the charade of formalities, the dark one replied rather sarcastically. “Of course, master elf. That is the entirety of my quest. I can now take my army and return home.” Though the response stung him a bit, the elf furthered the dialogue. “Then what is it that you have come here for? You have already worn out your welcome.” Nodding, the Maiar looked around, surveying the city, before responding. But, when he did, he made sure of its caustic aura. “I have come for an audience with the Lord of the City. If I do not receive it, I will leave. But, I will then return tomorrow, and I will pave over your city with the blood of your people.”

The harsh coldness with which his voice issued the threat curdled the blood, for they knew the truth in it. The servants of Mordor are never kind, and nor do they make empty threats towards the livelihood of an entire people. Whispering to an aid standing behind him, Maegisil ordered the runner to deliver the request to city’s Lord, Celebrimbor. Returning his attention to the enemy presented before him, he issued a rather formal directive. “When word is received, we will determine if you have been granted what you seek.” However, Angoroth was now impatient. Leaning in to speak to the counselor, he whispered and murmured his secret quest. “I have come for certain pieces of jewelry. If you do not take me to Celebrimbor now, I will reveal this, and dispatch your city into a chaos of great sorrow. Then, the slaughter begins.” The elf paled slightly, obviously disturbed by this dark one’s knowledge. He seemed to ponder a bit, hoping there was some alternative. But, at last, he relented. “Open the inner gate!”

The old metal of the gate shuddered, and swung open, creaking as it went. Before departing into the sanctum of the Elves, Angoroth motioned for Captain Ulrung to follow. The elven escort did not seem to care, and so the addition of his captain was allowed. They passed into the city’s core; the retinue of guards, Maegisil, and the two dark ones, who were now venturing deep into the festering haven of the enemy. The people were bustling about, to and fro. Some stopped to stare at the swift moving group, as it swept past them like a fiendish winter wind. Much seemed to be on the minds of the people, and they moved without their usual timidity, as the Maiar saw it at least. Angoroth, as he was pressed forward, did not have time to admire the city as he would have liked. Though he hated the Elves, he did enjoy much of their ways, as they were created for elegance and beauty, much unlike those orcs of his master, and his successor. His own wares were crafted with an air of methodic grace and elegance. And it was all the better to know your enemy.

Soon, however, they reached the palace structure of Celebrimbor. The escort parted, and allowed Maegisil to lead the two dark ones into the palace. The guards at the steps saluted, and opened the doors for the counselor. Passing into the depths of the entry-way, they came upon the doors of the Lord’s chamber. Hesitating, if but for a moment, Maegisil forced his way into the chamber, casting aside the doors that had barred their entry. There say Celebrimbor, Lord of the City. A runner was speaking to him as they burst in, and encircling him were many other elves, seemingly of great importance. Maegisil bowed, if only out of formality, and presented the emissaries to the city’s keeper. “Milord, here are the emissaries sent by the Dark Lord to parley with you.” Even before he looked up at the emissaries, the Lord of the City felt the presence of something horrifically dark. Whoever these emissaries were, they were no mere eastern men following a wicked lord. Sighing inwardly, he rose up from his seat, looking distraught, as if the entire well of his emotions was now pouring over him. “Ah, then we shall hear what Mordor has to say.”