Duristahn's Tale
Iahkshmial
A tale untold of the tenth Ring Wraith; taken from J.R.R Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings", which I do not own.
'Twas a night of fair weather whence I sat, staring over the battlement upon my kingdom of old; Rokuin in the land south of Gondor, the Breorn realm. I of which owned, being that I was King Duristahn. About in the east, a dark rider drew forth in the twilight upon a horse as black as onyx. Intrigued as I easily became, I leaned further, my weight pressed against the stone balcony, the coolness of the icy surface seeping through my trousers and upon the skin of my naked thigh. Who could this be? One who rode with remarkable speed, as if he was pursuing a dangerous foe or had such news as a highly esteemed oracle was deemed to deliver? I knew not. If I had, the mysterious rider would have been sent forth back into the shadow of whence he emerged, unfulfilled and unanswered. Below me, the low braying of the Rokuin horns rose upon the air, sounding all around me; for this rider had approached the gates and sought entrance into my castle. Footsteps tread upon the flagstone behind me, almost as instantaneously as the sounding of the horns. Turning swiftly on my heel, I saw naught but ten paces away my chancellor, Roengad. "A messenger from Mordor wishes to speak to His Highness." He spoke with uncertainty. The very kind that caused his voice to quaver. "Mordor? He has come for Sauron?" "That is what he has claimed, your Highness. His errand is of much importance. Nothing else has he let on." "He may enter. As long as we are on better terms." "This is what His Highness King Duristahn demands. It is my duty. Upon my life, would I dare to refuse." In salute, Roengad withdrew his sword and pressed the hilt against his bosom. He quickly dispersed and took to the halls. "Mordor? Sauron?" I murmured. A feeling of dread stirred within me, and yet I was too proud to admit that danger thrived in the very words. "What has he that I am so greatly required to administer to? What is it that he wants?" I furrowed my brow in thought. I could have never discovered on my own what lay in this enigmatic situation. Alas, how dense I was! Bull headed and strong. Young and unrefined. What a King I was! Yea, I possessed an army as strong as Gondor's and riders to match those of Rohan. But is it merely strength in armies and wealth in land and riches that make a great King? It was that that I had been impressed. I was a fool. Whilst I was steeped in thought, I heard Roengad return. He was not alone. "King Duristahn, the messenger from Mordor seeks your counsel. I have brought him to you, my liege." I looked upward, my eyes meeting a man swathed in flowing black robes, his face hidden beneath the mantle of a hood. And yet, a part of me questioned if this was really but a man. After a few moments of silence, I found voice to speak. "Reveal yourself to me. 'Tis disrespectful to conceal yourself. You are to bare all in the presence of a King." A shifting of the robes indicated to me that this stranger understood my command. Black hands reached upward, drawing back the hood. Such a sight to steal away my very breath greeted me. This man, or be it a creature of the darkness, had a face ravaged with scars. His eyes were sightless to me. The pupils gray and bland. How wicked he appeared. So much, I wished to retract my very own demand! He smiled at me. His lips curling upward, baring sharp and pointed teeth. My grimace had brought him much pleasure. "Speak. Why are you here, and whom do you call yourself?" "I am Mogriuth. I come in service of Lord Sauron. It is true that we have fought wars in our pasts and our differences remain irreconcilable to this age. The Dark Lord asks for a truce. Come now, I have lived to see those times, judging that you have not." he countered. His voice was low and cacophonous, and possessed a venomous edge. He twisted his vile features into yet another snarling smile. The dread within me resurfaced. "I have no time to waste on such sly talk. What is it that he asks?" "Nothing. It is his condolences that he sends. It has been his wish that in accordance to all others, that you receive a treasure more rare than any your kingdom could ever obtain." "Out with it, you repulsive creature. I feel I may grow sick if I am tainted with your ghastly presence much longer." Mogruith laughed quietly. A rasping sound, like the breathing of that of a person who's throat has been cut. "You shall not be disappointed." His crippled black hands searched within his robes, while Roengad gripped his sword hilt, growing ever wary. Mogruith drew from his robes a leaden box, and held it out before me with outstretched hands. I stared at it for a moment's time. I could not decide whether I would accept what lay within. As I steadied my hand, my fingertips inches away from it, I sensed an energy emanating from it. It was a queer feeling. Of one I had never experienced. A heat. A burning; as if this leaden box was wreathed with flames. I felt that I would be foolish to ask of what bewitchment was upon it, because at this time, I believed nothing of the sort. I had driven wizardry and the crafts out of the Breorn borders. I felt that such nonsense would poison my flawless existence. "What devilry are you trying to offer hither? Do you actually intend to make a mockery of me?" "No, no. Nothing of the sort. It is a gift. Naught but a gift." In a disparaging proof, he opened the box, and all that I saw was a ring. A single ring. Crafted from the thinnest silver and wrought with utmost skill about a large, shimmering ,black gem. "Devil's diamond..." I whispered in awe, for devil's diamond was a rare find in the lands of Men. The gem was precious and worth more weight in gold. Indeed, this was more than my kingdom could obtain. It was then that I was taken in by this trinket of deceit. It was then that my empire fell. For as my greedy heart accepted this ring, my very own soul paid the price.
Mogruith smiled maliciously. Sauron the Deceiver had claimed the tenth kingdom for his own. He had yet to unfurl his plan of domination. He had yet to begin the destruction. I had willingly thrown myself into the abyss. And so it is true. The hearts of Men are easily corrupted. This is whence my sorrowful tale began, I, Iahkshmial of Sauron's RingWraiths.
A tale untold of the tenth Ring Wraith; taken from J.R.R Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings", which I do not own.
'Twas a night of fair weather whence I sat, staring over the battlement upon my kingdom of old; Rokuin in the land south of Gondor, the Breorn realm. I of which owned, being that I was King Duristahn. About in the east, a dark rider drew forth in the twilight upon a horse as black as onyx. Intrigued as I easily became, I leaned further, my weight pressed against the stone balcony, the coolness of the icy surface seeping through my trousers and upon the skin of my naked thigh. Who could this be? One who rode with remarkable speed, as if he was pursuing a dangerous foe or had such news as a highly esteemed oracle was deemed to deliver? I knew not. If I had, the mysterious rider would have been sent forth back into the shadow of whence he emerged, unfulfilled and unanswered. Below me, the low braying of the Rokuin horns rose upon the air, sounding all around me; for this rider had approached the gates and sought entrance into my castle. Footsteps tread upon the flagstone behind me, almost as instantaneously as the sounding of the horns. Turning swiftly on my heel, I saw naught but ten paces away my chancellor, Roengad. "A messenger from Mordor wishes to speak to His Highness." He spoke with uncertainty. The very kind that caused his voice to quaver. "Mordor? He has come for Sauron?" "That is what he has claimed, your Highness. His errand is of much importance. Nothing else has he let on." "He may enter. As long as we are on better terms." "This is what His Highness King Duristahn demands. It is my duty. Upon my life, would I dare to refuse." In salute, Roengad withdrew his sword and pressed the hilt against his bosom. He quickly dispersed and took to the halls. "Mordor? Sauron?" I murmured. A feeling of dread stirred within me, and yet I was too proud to admit that danger thrived in the very words. "What has he that I am so greatly required to administer to? What is it that he wants?" I furrowed my brow in thought. I could have never discovered on my own what lay in this enigmatic situation. Alas, how dense I was! Bull headed and strong. Young and unrefined. What a King I was! Yea, I possessed an army as strong as Gondor's and riders to match those of Rohan. But is it merely strength in armies and wealth in land and riches that make a great King? It was that that I had been impressed. I was a fool. Whilst I was steeped in thought, I heard Roengad return. He was not alone. "King Duristahn, the messenger from Mordor seeks your counsel. I have brought him to you, my liege." I looked upward, my eyes meeting a man swathed in flowing black robes, his face hidden beneath the mantle of a hood. And yet, a part of me questioned if this was really but a man. After a few moments of silence, I found voice to speak. "Reveal yourself to me. 'Tis disrespectful to conceal yourself. You are to bare all in the presence of a King." A shifting of the robes indicated to me that this stranger understood my command. Black hands reached upward, drawing back the hood. Such a sight to steal away my very breath greeted me. This man, or be it a creature of the darkness, had a face ravaged with scars. His eyes were sightless to me. The pupils gray and bland. How wicked he appeared. So much, I wished to retract my very own demand! He smiled at me. His lips curling upward, baring sharp and pointed teeth. My grimace had brought him much pleasure. "Speak. Why are you here, and whom do you call yourself?" "I am Mogriuth. I come in service of Lord Sauron. It is true that we have fought wars in our pasts and our differences remain irreconcilable to this age. The Dark Lord asks for a truce. Come now, I have lived to see those times, judging that you have not." he countered. His voice was low and cacophonous, and possessed a venomous edge. He twisted his vile features into yet another snarling smile. The dread within me resurfaced. "I have no time to waste on such sly talk. What is it that he asks?" "Nothing. It is his condolences that he sends. It has been his wish that in accordance to all others, that you receive a treasure more rare than any your kingdom could ever obtain." "Out with it, you repulsive creature. I feel I may grow sick if I am tainted with your ghastly presence much longer." Mogruith laughed quietly. A rasping sound, like the breathing of that of a person who's throat has been cut. "You shall not be disappointed." His crippled black hands searched within his robes, while Roengad gripped his sword hilt, growing ever wary. Mogruith drew from his robes a leaden box, and held it out before me with outstretched hands. I stared at it for a moment's time. I could not decide whether I would accept what lay within. As I steadied my hand, my fingertips inches away from it, I sensed an energy emanating from it. It was a queer feeling. Of one I had never experienced. A heat. A burning; as if this leaden box was wreathed with flames. I felt that I would be foolish to ask of what bewitchment was upon it, because at this time, I believed nothing of the sort. I had driven wizardry and the crafts out of the Breorn borders. I felt that such nonsense would poison my flawless existence. "What devilry are you trying to offer hither? Do you actually intend to make a mockery of me?" "No, no. Nothing of the sort. It is a gift. Naught but a gift." In a disparaging proof, he opened the box, and all that I saw was a ring. A single ring. Crafted from the thinnest silver and wrought with utmost skill about a large, shimmering ,black gem. "Devil's diamond..." I whispered in awe, for devil's diamond was a rare find in the lands of Men. The gem was precious and worth more weight in gold. Indeed, this was more than my kingdom could obtain. It was then that I was taken in by this trinket of deceit. It was then that my empire fell. For as my greedy heart accepted this ring, my very own soul paid the price.
Mogruith smiled maliciously. Sauron the Deceiver had claimed the tenth kingdom for his own. He had yet to unfurl his plan of domination. He had yet to begin the destruction. I had willingly thrown myself into the abyss. And so it is true. The hearts of Men are easily corrupted. This is whence my sorrowful tale began, I, Iahkshmial of Sauron's RingWraiths.