I awoke in a tent near the battlefield. I suppose some soldier not yet fully immersed in the cruelty of Sauron carried me from the field of the dead. My armor and weapon lay in a pile beside me. I stood, but as soon as I did another Man, an Easterling, rushed into the tent.
"Come on!" he urged me. "The worship is about to begin!" I shook my head in protest, but he insisted that I go. Grabbing the pike out of force of habit, I walked armorless from the tent and wearily toward the unavoidable thing that awaited me.
The same Blue Wizard stood at the forefront again. This time on the platform with him stood a small boy, one of the slaves of Sauron, with arms and legs chained together. The crowd stood even more massive than the last time, and there stood at the edge of the crowd one of the Nazgûl, a nameless servants of Sauron, mounted atop some Fell Beast. I stood in the crowd, shaking my head at what I knew was to unfold.
"Behold Lord Sauron!" began the priest. Sauron... dare not oppose... Sauron... dare not oppose... I knew I was going mad. This horrible knowledge... Dark Power... Dark Lord... Sauron... Madness was inevitable. Logic seemed pointless; reason a falsehood. I looked up, and saw that horrible Eye of Sauron watching me.
I am tempted here to lie. I want to say that I stood frozen with fear through the whole ordeal, creating a believable lie to cover up the truth. I want to say I did some great heroic deed, slaying the evil priest or speaking out against the cruel sacrifice and winning the crowd over, so any reading this may call me a liar and discount the whole tale.
Fear, a fear unlike any I had ever known, welled up inside me. I had to flee, flee from the Eye. Madness seized me, madness which all discounts all logic. I looked at the Nazgûl, then rammed my pike through the chest of the wraith. It fell off the horrible mount and stumbled backward, the weapon still lodged in its chest. Knowing only I had to flee that horrible Eye that seemed to look into my very mind, I climb atop the Fell Beast and grabbed the reigns. Frantically, I jerked the reigns to urge the beast to move.
I rose slowly into the air atop the thing. Somehow the shock of lifting into the sky, where Man is not meant to be, was dulled by the impulse to flee at all costs. The Wizard looked at me with a look of horrible anger, calling a bolt of lightning from the clouds above to strike me down. Somehow, the bolt missed and I soared through the sky unmolested on the Fell Beast. I knew not where to go, so I yanked the reigns to the left, the North, out of Mordor and into lands I knew nothing of.
"Come on!" he urged me. "The worship is about to begin!" I shook my head in protest, but he insisted that I go. Grabbing the pike out of force of habit, I walked armorless from the tent and wearily toward the unavoidable thing that awaited me.
The same Blue Wizard stood at the forefront again. This time on the platform with him stood a small boy, one of the slaves of Sauron, with arms and legs chained together. The crowd stood even more massive than the last time, and there stood at the edge of the crowd one of the Nazgûl, a nameless servants of Sauron, mounted atop some Fell Beast. I stood in the crowd, shaking my head at what I knew was to unfold.
"Behold Lord Sauron!" began the priest. Sauron... dare not oppose... Sauron... dare not oppose... I knew I was going mad. This horrible knowledge... Dark Power... Dark Lord... Sauron... Madness was inevitable. Logic seemed pointless; reason a falsehood. I looked up, and saw that horrible Eye of Sauron watching me.
I am tempted here to lie. I want to say that I stood frozen with fear through the whole ordeal, creating a believable lie to cover up the truth. I want to say I did some great heroic deed, slaying the evil priest or speaking out against the cruel sacrifice and winning the crowd over, so any reading this may call me a liar and discount the whole tale.
Fear, a fear unlike any I had ever known, welled up inside me. I had to flee, flee from the Eye. Madness seized me, madness which all discounts all logic. I looked at the Nazgûl, then rammed my pike through the chest of the wraith. It fell off the horrible mount and stumbled backward, the weapon still lodged in its chest. Knowing only I had to flee that horrible Eye that seemed to look into my very mind, I climb atop the Fell Beast and grabbed the reigns. Frantically, I jerked the reigns to urge the beast to move.
I rose slowly into the air atop the thing. Somehow the shock of lifting into the sky, where Man is not meant to be, was dulled by the impulse to flee at all costs. The Wizard looked at me with a look of horrible anger, calling a bolt of lightning from the clouds above to strike me down. Somehow, the bolt missed and I soared through the sky unmolested on the Fell Beast. I knew not where to go, so I yanked the reigns to the left, the North, out of Mordor and into lands I knew nothing of.