A.N:

This is a story I've been working over for a little while now and I thought I'd finally put it down rather than letting it run-a-muck in my head. While this Prologue and the first chapter are reasonably short, I felt that cutting them to such a degree would probably benefit the story. It will go for approximately 10 or so chapters at minimum, depending on the following it receives. Please feel free to review with positives and constructive criticisms as I'm open to hearing from you all.
Thanks very much and I hope you enjoy the piece.

Back From Shadow

A coldness returns to Middle-Earth. Upon Sauron's defeat, a new evil spawned from the open dark; greed. The race of Men, now with no evil to fight, turned unto one another. Kingdoms fell under siege, women and children perished in the bloody battle for stone and gold.
Elven-kind, or those whom had remained, kept a wary eye from their realms, watching and silently hoping that Men would set aside their differences and unite.
The Dwarves stayed in their forge works, hammering and mining away at their fine jewels and stones. But they soon knew, once the treasures of man were forfeit – they would be at a risk.
Sword and shield clashed and the mightiest were slain and brought to a premature end – but not for a moment did those of the great white city dare involve themselves in the battle. King Aragorn, or King Elessar as he had now been named denounced the vile, violent acts of his fellow kinsmen. So his gates did not open and his words did not grace any ear beyond the inner sanctums of Minas Tirith.

A time passed.

Men had fought for what seemed like an Age and lost more than they could bear in a hopes of achieving wealth. But for every jewel won, for every kingdom pillaged or conquered, more would be lost than ever thought possible.
Men had done as Sauron had thought true.
The will of them had been broken and their spirits torn in two.
It had taken a great many days for it to ensue, however, with enough death and bloodshed from the race of Men – the very race which had brought Sauron to his justice – a dark magic could be uttered.

A powerful sorcerer, unknown to the peoples of Middle-Earth on the farthest and highest peak from Gondor had waited, his dark eyes ever watching. And when enough blood had been spilled and he could see that the race of Men had failed themselves, he spoke the dark words which lingered; engraved in the ancient remnants of Mount Doom.
Sauron had left it as his last mark on Middle-Earth; a possible way of returning to finish that which he started if he could.

With the words said, the ground of the world split downward through the middle. Mountains were made to fall, cities, villages and kingdoms shattered by what many assumed to be the will of Arda.

But it was not so.

The Dark Lord Sauron was reborn and with him, he brought his most loyal servants.
All those whom served him, other than the powerful Saruman had returned to his side, ready to forge an even greater army than before. To rid the race of Men from Middle-Earth forever and to take back what they believed to be there's.

Though there was another result of the spells uttering.

The Elves were brought to know of the return of the Dark Lord and a great many of them returned from their ascension, prepared to aid Middle-Earth one final time to restore peace.
Legolas Greenleaf, Elrond of Rivendell & Glorfindel amongst the most notable.

And so, as it seemed the battle for Middle-Earth was over….
Another had seemingly begun.