Chapter V

Tales of the Neo-Nazgul

There are two constants regarding the relationship between people and the strange things people find. The first is that people will pick up things they think are beautiful because they might be worth something. The other, more important, constant is that they will also pick up things that are unusually strange because they might be worth something.

The latter constant is what caused so many crudely designed rings to fall into the hands of so many crudely brained men and women (and one very unlucky Ent). They were littered across the streets of Minas Tirith, but not for long. By that evening, over half of the misshapen things had been scooped up, in hopes that they were worth something.

Unbeknownst to anyone (save for the Rings' creator, of course), each and every person was the proud new owner of a Ring of Power. The best news of all was that it would only cost them their soul.

----------

As darkness folded in on the campsite, Spanky sat on a rock (the logs by the fire were definitely off-limits to flaming balrogs) and stared at his new companions.

An abnormally tall man clad in metal from head to toe.

A hobbit, not unlike the one he swore to get his revenge on.

An oliphaunt, hobbling around like a…like a hobbling oliphaunt!

Interesting, Spanky thought, not able to think of anything appropriate enough without seeming harsh. …Interesting.

Not that "interesting" meant "bad". Spanky rather liked the halfling, Overhill. He had a sharp mind, and a good heart. Ollie, the oliphaunt, was much gentler and friendly than Spanky expected. As for Master Robert Saruman, he was an decent fellow once you got past a few things. Things like his temper, his armor, his complaining, his eyes, his…his…his presence.

Spanky tossed a pebble into the fire. It disappeared into the dancing flames. The hobbit, Overhill, had quickly gotten over his initial fear and mistrust of Spanky when the balrog had shown just how easy it would be to start a campfire from now on. Overhill had been the previous firestarter, and from what Spanky heard, he was none too talented.

As if Spanky's thoughts summoned him, Overhill walked over and sat next to the balrog. The two stared into the crackling fire for several minutes, until Overhill broke the silence.

"Why are you called Spanky?"

Spanky shrugged. "Everyone has to have a name."

"But…Spanky? That's not a name I would imagine belonging to a fierce balrog."

Fierce? Me? "Well, the name does sound more impressive in my native language." Spanky cleared his throat, and then produced a deep, rumbling noise. "That is my name in the balrog tongue. Translated to the common tongue, it becomes Spanky."

Overhill stared at him, the corners of his mouth twitching. "I see." Then he burst out laughing.

After looking quizzically at the hobbit for a moment, Spanky joined him in the laughter.

----------

Later that evening, Sauron finally happened to notice that Zombie Gollum, their guide and backbone of the entire hunt, was no longer with them.

"Where is the zombie?" he roared, his eyes glowing red with anger. "Where IS he?"

"I…I don't…know, sir!" Dorfo gasped, currently wearing a necklace consisting of Sauron's right hand. "The last…time…I saw him…was when we left…for…Minas…Tirith!"

Sauron released his grip on Dorfo, who fell to his knees. While struggling to breathe, he heard Spanky sigh in disgust over Sauron's actions. The balrog looked dangerously close to taking physical action against Sauron and his tantrums. Dorfo sighed between ragged breaths. You wouldn't sigh like that if you knew my real name, would you?

Sauron paced back and forth in front of the campfire, his armored hand rubbing his eyes. Neither Dorfo or Spanky dared to speak. Ollie, as usual, also remained silent. Finally, Sauron faced them

"This is unfortunate. Very bloody unfortunate. But, luckily, we have options."

The Dark Lord produced a ring from the sack by the fire. One of the hideous rings he was tossing on the streets of Minas Tirith, Dorfo thought.

"I had hoped to not need these for several more days," Sauron said, admiring the ring he held like a child admiring a shiny new toy.

"Need? What are they for, anyway?" Dorfo asked.

"These rings will summon…beings…to assist us in finding the Two Ring. They will be a valuable asset." He paused, as if remembering something fondly. "Almost as valuable as the Nine."

If Dorfo had been drinking anything, he would have spat it all over Sauron. "The Nine? You don't mean…?"

"Yes, halfling," Sauron said, grinning. "The Nine."

The Nine! Ringwraiths! Nazgul! Sauron could not possibly be considering unleashing a new set of Nazgul! They would terrorize the land, strike fear into the hearts of men! Not to mention hobbits! But…that was what Sauron wanted. To terrorize. Dorfo realized that, but kept trying to forget that it was true.

Dorfo wanted to shout at Sauron. Call him a fool. Call him mad.

Instead, he said "Erm…"

Sauron now held the Ring in both hands. His eyes began to glow brighter. He was focusing on the Ring.

"Now," he said, "this Ring is linked to all the other Rings. When I activate it, the other Rings will also be activated. Within a day or two, our newly enslaved group of Men – group of Nazgul – will come calling, to do my bidding. To track the Two Ring." He smiled. "We will have no need of the Zombie after all."

Dorfo watched as Sauron fed energy into the Ring. Spanky stared, obviously confused as to what was going on. After all, the balrog knew nothing of Sauron's identity, or his quest. Dorfo cared little about the balrog's confusion, though. He feared for his own life. The Nazgul would soon come. It had begun.

----------

Deschain, a simple craftsman, sat alone in his cluttered shop halfway up Minas Tirith. The sun was setting, which meant he should be getting home to his wife. He usually did; he was a good husband. However, something was currently occupying his time.

The tall, rather portly man held the Ring he found in the streets close to his eyes, giving it a careful examination. What kind of Ring was it? It was so crude looking, yet it was also so…so intoxicating.

Curious, he slowly slid the Ring onto his left index finger. It wasn't a perfect fit, but it sufficed. He stared at his hand, and almost laughed. This is the most hideous thing I have ever…

-click-

Deschain had suddenly lost his train of thought. In fact, he had lost all of his thoughts. He only sat there, staring hungrily at the Ring – which was now glowing faintly – on his chubby finger.

A few moments later, Deschain rose. He had no control over his movements, his voices, or even his thoughts. He was a shell. A tool. More than anything else in the shop, Deschain was a tool.

An effective tool, however, he was not. For Deschain's first action was to walk briskly into the wall next to his shop's door. After shaking the dizziness out of his head, he went to the door and opened it the only way he knew how – by beating on it with a chair. After that didn't work, he exited his shop by bursting through the closed window.

The first of the Neo-Nazgul was on his way.

----------

"It's working," Sauron said, still focusing on the Ring. "I can feel one coming already."

"Wonderful!" Dorfo replied, much more sarcastically than he would have had Sauron been paying attention. "I hope they arrive soon!"

Spanky pulled Dorfo away from the fire and, more importantly, from Sauron. The Dark Lord did not notice.

"Overhill, what is happening?" Spanky asked, genuine confusion showing on his red face. "What is this about Rings?"
Dorfo shrugged. "Exactly what Sauron said. He's…summoning…friends to help us find what he lost." The hobbit paused. "Although I don't think it will turn out as well as he expects. You saw those Rings. They aren't up to his usual…quality."

Dorfo realized that Spanky would have no idea what the hobbit was talking about. Again, Dorfo didn't care. He liked to think that he and Spanky were friends, but Dorfo's fear of these new Nazgul greatly overshadowed that friendship. He simply did not know what to do.

So, hobbit and balrog sat silently side by side while Sauron unleashed new evils upon the world.

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"Wow, it's…um…it's…wonderful!"

"I was hoping you'd like it!"

After the initial stuttered sentence, Corellia was at a loss for words. This Ring was, by far, the most hideous thing anyone had ever given her. But Matrim had such an excited look on his face, like he wanted her to absolutely love it. She obviously did not, but she would pretend. For Matrim's sake.

And, besides, she did feel rather attached to it already.

Putting on her best smile, Cor began to wrap her arms around Matrim and…

-click-

…she fell backwards, all thoughts torn from her mind. Matrim ran over to help her up, but Cor pushed him away and stood herself.

Then, in true Neo-Nazgul fashion, Corellia exited the building through the closed window.

----------

Sauron continued to feed power into the Ring. It was working; he could feel it. His new guides – and weapons – would arrive soon.

----------

-click-

A portly innkeeper tried to eat his apron, set fire to his inn, and then ran out.

-click-

A young girl threw her entire bed across the room and darted for the window.

-click-

An ent, making a rare visit to Minas Tirith, set fire to his head to form a large torch, and marched toward the Pelennor.

-click-

A rock with a Ring lying on top of it glowed angrily.

-click-

And so on.

----------

The Dark Lord's work was almost done. Soon, all he would need to do is wait for his army to arrive. However, every army needs a general. For the final time, Sauron focused his energy toward the Ring he held.

----------

As night draped itself over Minas Tirith, Balinor walked across the empty armory. His shift – guard duty on the wall – had just ended, and he was exhausted. The soldier slowly removed his cumbersome armor, wondering what he had done to deserve such an awful schedule.

All other thoughts were driven from his mind when he felt the Ring in his pocket. He pulled it out, examining the gnarled thing he had heard clattering toward him not very long ago. Despite its looks, the Ring interested Balinor. It radiated power, and what man did not want power?

As Balinor began to slide the Ring onto his finger, a hand slapped his back, hard. The jolt caused the Ring to fly from Balinor's fingers, and into the helmet portion of a suit of Gondorian armor that was propped up in the corner.

Balinor turned to face the room's other occupant. It was another soldier in his unit, Gregor.

"Balinor!" Gregor said cheerfully. "How about we go grab a drink?"

Balinor was having a hard time keeping his mind off of the Ring he just held, but he tried. "All right. Lead the way, Greg."

-click-

A scraping noise from behind them caused the two to turn. There was nothing behind them, except for the suit of armor in the corner. Just before they decided to turn again and go get those drinks, two fire-red eyes appeared in the suit's helmet.

"What the devil?" Balinor gasped, staring at the suit, which had begun to very slowly move. It discarded the apparatus that held everything upright. The shiny suit stood there, its separate pieces seemingly hovering in a position that made the suit look like a man was actually wearing it. It was glaring at the two men.

"Out of my way, fools," it said. The fact that it just spoke caused Balinor's jaw to drop farther than it had ever dropped before.

The suit advanced on the two men. Not really knowing what they should do, the men hesitantly drew their swords. The suit sneered.

"Big mistake."

The suit charged, instigating a short fight with an obvious outcome.

----------

That was it. Sauron was finished. Proud of himself, he placed the Ring back in his bag and sat down beside the fire. He looked toward the trees and saw Spanky and Dorfo talking out of earshot. Probably scheming against me, Sauron figured. Let them scheme. When my Neo-Nazgul arrive, I will become unstoppable.

In the meantime, he would travel to Isengard. He had business to attend to.

----------

The Two Ring dashed across the ruins of Isengard.

It was fleeing for its life. Several paces behind it, its pursuer scampered, seemingly desperate to catch the Ring. Imagine the Two Ring's surprise when the being had lurched out from behind a rock and lunged at the Ring. The chase had begun, then, nearly two hours ago. But the pursuer was closing the gap.

After scampering over yet another boulder, the Two Ring glanced behind it. There was nobody there. Had it managed to elude its slimy pursuer? The Two Ring collapsed onto a rock, making a sharp 'clink' sound. After catching its breath, the Two Ring stood on its skinny legs and resumed its flight.

The Two Ring dashed across the ruins of Isengard until the slimy figure fell upon it, abruptly ending the chase.