All characters belong to their prospective creators or the companies holding the copyrights.

Thum, thum, thum!

The drums beat incessantly against the back of his mind.

Thum, thum, thum!

They kept intruding, pounding into his soul with all the dull intensity they could master.

Thum, thum, thum!

He threw them away, the sounds of the bone drumsticks hitting the leather-covered surfaces, the sounds of now.

He tried to fix the escaping tranquillity that existed only a few moments before. He tried to remember the feeling of purpose and harmony. He tried to hold to the memories of powerful fires, meant to create, not destroy.

Thum, thum, thum!

He started to wake up from his sleep, unwilling to climb out of his slumber. He attempted to keep the fragility of the feelings, of the absence of fear and presence of light.

Thum, thum, thum!

The dreams fled, scared off by crude rhythms. Despair and loss flooded his being and he recalled the beauty of darkness. He roared at the drums, jaw stretching to reveal sharp fangs; long flickering tongue lapping up the sweet smell of terror.

Thum, thum, thum!

The Balrog cracked his whip and ran towards the drums, fiery shadows outlining his bulk as he leapt to destroy.