They were goodly men, tall and strong, and with an air of high nobility. None was in his first youth. Paler strands showed in their dark hair, and there were creases around the keen grey eyes, and lines etched in the pale faces.
Their garments were rich, with here and there the dull gleam of gold, or the sharper sparkle of white gems. All had long swords at their sides.
One wore a crown, and the others deferred to him, but stiffly and reluctantly.
They listened to one in their midst: a handsome man, taller even than they, fair of face, with a pleasant smile and a beguiling voice, and behind the voice, an authority which they recognised.
He spoke to them courteously, flatteringly. He seemed to see into each man's heart, reading his deepest desires.
He offered them power beyond the dreams of Men or Elves, and smiled to see the hunger awakened in their eyes. Above all, he offered them life, endless life unchanging.
They bargained with him. The debate lasted for many hours, but at the end of it, their proud heads bowed in acceptance.
Nine hands stretched out, and into each the stranger put a golden ring.