[mormegil]

It was a dark moment for all those of Minas Tirith, the Witch-King had arrived. As none but the most stout hearted could even stand his presence Gandalf had to face him alone. Gandalf strode forward with a regal magnificence not seen in Middle-earth since the first age. His flowy white hair glistened and his aura seemingly emmited a light as if his very sould possesed the light of the Silmaril.

As he marched towards his destiny Gandalf thought, "this will take all my skill and strength, even then is it enough to best this foe?"

Each step seemed like minutes, however at length he arrived to confront his foe. Gandlaf drew himself to his full height and raised his staff, to all who saw it seemed that the white grew while the dark diminished. Then Gandalf spoke, his voice was as solid as rock and as clear as a horn when he said, "Go back fiend, it is not your time, go back to the abyss that was prepared for you and your mas...What's this? A penny! Well I'll be, say here W-K be a good lad and wait a moment while I pick it up."