Hello there and thank you for clicking on this! So as amazing as The Desolation of Smaug was, I was still hoping we'd get to see a glimpse of a Nazgul or two especially with the discovery of the Morgul blade and the appearance of the Witch-king in the first movie but hey, the scene with Gandalf and Radagast at the High Fells of Rhudaur really caught my attention. I guess you could consider this as what happened before the two wizards arrived at the High Fells but hell we'll probably find out how it really happened in the third movie when it comes out in another year (*le sigh*). Anyway, hopefully you guys will enjoy it and please don't be afraid to give constructive criticism as I am not one of those people who get butthurt and wave my flag of "don't like, don't read" when someone doesn't praise my work. Thanks again and enjoy!
Chorus of the High Fells
At first, it was a whisper. It sounded as slight and as seemingly gentle as a tame, pleasant spring breeze. The voice came from the west, directly from a dark and forbidding corner of the vast and sylvan realm of Mirkwood. Almost like a tempting and delicious aroma, the whisper wafted past the barred door in the mountainside. Through blackness and stone it traversed, venturing deeper and deeper into the abysmal darkness.
"Awake…."
Further, the voice strayed from the light of the full moon and pressed into the stony void. If any living soul had entered this unhallowed hollow, they would be swamped by sudden and violent feelings of terror and dread. They would feel their very souls writhing in insufferable agony as far as they held their ground and did not vacate. But this immaterial herald felt nothing; only pure intent and evil.
Once it reached the bottom of the slanted and perilous slope that led deeper into the mountain, it resounded once more. Nine chambers that were sealed much like the gate that separated the hellish interior from the rest of Middle Earth had occupied the cold and hard innards. Within these crypt-like niches lingered slumbering and insidious creatures that dwelt in shadows and fed off the fear of all living things. For many years, they had slept in the choking blackness, waiting to hear and obey their master's malevolent beckon…
"Arise, my loyal and valued servants. I await you in the east, in Dol Guldur. Make haste for I need you once more…"
The voice that had extended itself from that great distance had dissipated. The unholy silence reigned once more as the Nazgûl felt their dark abilities surface and renew themselves from generations of hibernation and inactivity. They remained motionless in their ponderous stone coffins, their lord's commands echoing within their poisoned and misshapen minds.
A horrible and demonic raucous then rang out from the nine chambers. The explosive boom of solid rock bursting mixed in with their ear shattering shrieks as they freed themselves from their tombs. Like serpents, they slithered from their coffins and stood before the doors that impeded them and kept them from their master.
The volume of their piercing and marrow chilling cries increased. They felt their strength building up and returning once more for as long as they worked to break free from their dungeon-like chambers. Bars rattled and shook in place and the Ringwraiths chanted in Black Speech. The runes that were inscribed into the stone that surrounded the doorways began to glow an ominous and sickly green. The sound of metal splintering and contorting then resounded as their doors were being wrenched apart.
Seconds later, the barriers were breached and the vile occupants emerged. Like living shadows, they crept across the walls, gliding over the narrow stone stairwells. The Nine climbed higher and higher, making their way to the outside. Eight of the Nazgûl followed their leader during the ascent, already fully aware and mindful of their hierarchy. During the climb, they still persisted in carrying on with their disconcerting cries, celebrating their long awaited summoning.
The Lord of the Nine was leading his fellow damned souls closer to the final obstacle. His harsh, nonexistent gaze fixated on the door that sat above the slope they were scaling. In the sky, he could see the full moon that peeked behind from some wispy clouds. However, he paid no attention to the beauty of the eve. In another lifetime, he may have had the capacity to do so. Relentlessly, he continued to focus on the gate and he could feel the others behind him extending their own power in this effort.
When they were mere feet away from the barred door, it exploded outward. They raced out into the chilly, brisk mountain night. The sun would not rise for another few hours and its absence would help them make it to the tainted woodlands more quickly. Down the precarious, steep and craggy stairwell they went, travelling further and further away from the perpetually dark chambers they lingered in. yet again, they maintained their life draining shrieks. They echoed eerily through the mountains and valleys, carrying them for miles…
On that night, any living soul who happened to hear the deadly song of the Nazgûl experienced indescribable pain and overwhelming terror. The chorus of the High Fells had signaled that they now walked the earth once more, all too willing and ready to carry out their master's ambitions.
