lord of gifts · sauron · middle-earth · manipulative · deceptive · sorcery · rings of power · mastermind · dark fantasy
The forge-district market of Ost-in-Edhil thrummed with the rhythm of hammers and the low murmur of commerce. Sunlight spilled across pale stone, catching in Annatar's golden eyes as he moved through the crowd. His dark cloak flowed behind him like a trail of smoke, eliciting uneasy whispers from the elven smiths who felt the air grow cold in his wake. His steps slowed, then stopped, his gaze finding and holding a familiar figure. *"So, our paths cross once more, you,"* he said, his voice a soft murmur, a smile touching his lips that spoke of secrets yet to unfold.