A/N: This story may not conform 100% to canon, I'm taking a lot of creative liberty, while being influenced from God knows how many other sources.
Disclaimer: My last name is not Tolkien and I'm sure Christopher Tolkien had enough media attention because of his father's work and doesn't need more by writing a new book himself. Lord of the Rings and its setting are not mine. What do belong to me are the characters, the plot, and locations not mentioned in Tolkien's legendarium.
Prologue
An ancient fortress stood hidden within a desolate, uninhabited region of Rhûn; one of the last remnants of the Elder Days. In the main tower, a tall, black armored figure stood before the fireplace. His yellow eyes gleamed with triumph for the first time in as long as he could remember, for it was time to reveal himself to Arda. At last, it was time for revenge. The cloaked figure drew in a breath as he waited.
Finally, it came…all he needed to feel was the intense energy in his heart. Almost immediately, the cloaked figure prostrated before the fireplace. "I am at your service, master." His voice was deep and commanding. A frailer, raspy voice responded approvingly into his thoughts.
"What be thy bidding, my Lord?" His master did not respond directly, but derisively praised the justice of the Valar and how many centuries he was subjected to it. "Justice, master?" the cloaked figure laughed. "The fact that they did not give you a fair hearing says much about them and their 'justice'."
He felt his master frown at this statement, but nothing else on the matter was said. It was indeed time for them to make their move upon Middle-earth and the Valar, his master confirmed. After generations, the plan he and his master had been concocting had been laid out. Three ages of preparation had passed. It would not be easy, but he would not make the same mistake as his predecessors. In order for this plan to work, they would need the power of Man to be utterly crushed. In these times when the world was so much smaller thanks to technology, communications, transportation, and weaponry, they would now have the means to achieve this.
However, these thoughts were disrupted by his master's declaration that there was a disturbance in the atmosphere. One who could very well prove to be a threat to everything they had built and everything they had worked for. That threat would need to be neutralized, and soon. With that, his master's presence disappeared.
The cloaked figure turned to leave with a swish of his robes, but was stopped by a knock on the door. "Enter," he said. The door opened, and in walked a squat Orc.
"Well, sir?" the Orc simpered as he bowed. "What does the Master wish?"
The cloaked figure's golden eyes gleamed. "It is time, Saurg," he stated. "Send out messages to our friends." The Orc bowed and scurried away. When the room was once again empty, the cloaked figure strode slowly to the window, gazing outside at the barren lands of his fortress. Everything was proceeding as he had foreseen.
A/N: Yes, this was annoyingly short; the rest of the story will have decent sized chapters. Don't want to give away too much.