Darkness had descended across the land, signaling the beginning of the night. A storm seemed to have come from the skies, as if signaling something ominous. Berethor was restless. His tired, war-worn face, with its heavy brow and greying beard, showed his weariness and fear of things outside of his control. Though the war was won against Sauron, he and the people of Minas Tirith knew that evil cannot, nor could it ever, be purged from these lands. However, it wasn't solely that; he sensed something ominous from the east. 'Perhaps I am simply paranoid,' Berethor thought to himself, stroking his chin. 'After all, I have just come back from fighting off the thralls of Harad.' Suddenly, Morwen appeared from behind Berethor and placed her hand on his back.

"Is everything alright?" The former shield maiden asked, her hair sagging down her shoulders.

"Yes," Berethor replied. "I'll be coming to bed shortly."

Morwen nods and soon heads back to their room, leaving her husband to stare off into the distance...

Far off in the mountains of Mordor, a large, imposing being watched over his army of orcs. His appearance was certainly a fearful sight to behold: a menacing helm covered his sparcely haired cranium, and thick plates covered his back and chest. A blade forged from blackened iron was grasped in his hand, spiked and jagged. An orc captain, clad in black armor, soon approached his lord, bowing before him and glancing up into his master's eyes. Shortly afterwards, he spoke. "My lord, we have amassed as many orcs as we could. We called out for our brethren from Mount Gundabad to Mirkwood forest."

"And how many orcs have joined us?" the being inquired, yellowed eyes looking upon his left hand man.

"Our army has grown to be 10,000 strong, sir."

"And how many trolls have you found?" The being seemed to be irritated, but kept himself calm for now.

"Only twenty as of now, my lord."

"That is not enough!" the being shouted, bashing the captain with his hand and sending the pitiful creature headfirst into the floor. "There MUST be more!"

His lord's fury was something to be feared. The commander's body was sprawled across the ground, shaking with raw terror. The monstrous creature let out a terrifying roar, before the orc managed to stammer out, "But Lord Burzum: there is no one left! Who will join us?"

Burzum paused at this. He pondered for a few moments, before a thought struck him. A malicious smirk spread across Burzum's face, his yellowed fangs piercing through his already toothy grin. He glanced down at his captain's petrified face.

"The Castellans… yes, the protectors of Dol Guldur. They have stayed there, even after Sauron's departure so many years before! If we manage to convince them to join our cause, our armies will be all but unstoppable!"

"Th-that sounds like a good idea," the orc captain said sheepishly. He had already angered his master once, and had no intentions of doing it again.

"Yes, yes… now go get them."

"Of course, my lord." The orc nods.

"NOW!" Burzum yells.

The orc turned tail and left his master's location, before he mounted his warg and began to leave. He was soon joined by others before he disappeared from sight. Twin jets of air blasted out of Burzum's nostrils as he watched his commander left his vision range.

"Soon… Middle Earth will be driven before me, and they will know true fear!" Burzum said to himself before chuckling aloud...