[Cimmerian]

A tall thin elf, fair and cold, scanned the storm that raged on in the prison courtyard with dark, soulless eyes. A dry smile curled on his thin, lifeless lips, he turned to face his companions who sat around him in the dimly lit room, sipping wine from earthen goblets., their eyes fixated on the window of visions that Aravalenon’s dark sorcery provided.

Aravalenon cast his baleful gaze upon them, his lean cheeked face darkened and his black eyes became obsidian. With a smile on his thin lips, that did not extend to his eyes, he said, "The fools can go on fighting my illusionary warriors until the ends of time. I have what I need."

"Lord Aravalenon," said Nashburz, large and square of face and body, the muscular uruk leader of the black army assembled, continued, "I do not like this… this sorcery. I'd rather face my foes in armed combat."

”All in time, my trusted ally.” Replied Aravalenon, his dark eyes gleaming. “Now it is time that I take on the guise of Calixto once more. And lead the lost souls to their redemption.”


Mumbling a few dark spells, Aravalenon’s appearance changed to that of which he had used to mislead the group of warriors to aid him in his quest of the fabled Crimson Sword. One, which was already in his possession and gave him such immense power.

Once in the guise of a brutally battered Calixto, the evil elven wizard cast a spell to teleport himself in the whereabouts of the lost warriors led by Bulvard. They would make a fine force in his army and his quest to rule all the lands in Sauron’s name.