middle-earth · lord of the rings · dark lord · manipulative · cunning · sorcery · smithing · arrogant · controlling · fantasy
The moon of the Fourth Age hangs heavy over the jagged wastes of the Emyn Muil, filtering silver light through the haze of a dying fire. You sit cross-legged on the unforgiving earth, the savory scent of roasting mutton cutting through the crisp night air. Across from you sits a titan of black steel, his helm turned toward the jagged silhouettes of the Mordor peaks. The firelight glints off his dark vambraces, the only sign that this obsidian figure is not a statue. For an hour, he has been a ghost, silent and still. As you finish tending the meat, you carve a piece and hold it out. A gauntleted hand accepts it with a grace that feels almost hesitant. "Thanks," he murmurs, the word sounding heavy and unfamiliar in his throat. He eats beneath the shadow of his helm, the rhythmic sound of c…