The Void echoes. He is awakening in its swallowing depths.

The One Ring demands him...

What is this?

The Third of the Nine sits within his chambers along the Spire of the Hound, the western sentry-tower that held dominion over Minas Morgul's citadel. Shrouded in black and shaped with dark armour that bares vague memory of his ancient lineage,

Leather fingers wrapped around a quill that had already dipped into the inkwell, hovering over a thin-leathered scroll. Mordor, in its black grandeurs lacked such simplicities of nature and demanded labor beyond its dark realm. So many trees fed the flames of forges and spit, but few were rightfully handled to be processed to papers. Uruk did not write, if they did it was boorish and rough to tear in their inelegance. So leather was the safer material, and flesh was plentiful among the Dark Lord's slaves.

Unseen eyes stared at the sheet for a moment, the only scripture of Sauron's dark language described,

Waw.

It has been a fair time since he has traveled into the far east to the isles that sat beyond on Middle-Earth's southeast corner. Even now, Dwar wondered how Sauron found him. A warlord among the countless that He no doubt passed to travel as far as he had.

Something within his soul told him it was a cruel fate. One that only the Valar could have weaved in their lacking vigilance.

A scold twisted on a ghostly visage that no mortal eye could ever see. The face of a man aged yet youthful. Leathered skin and lips covered by a beard that had no warmth anymore.

No, he earned his Ring. His...precious band of jewel and masterful artisan that the Maiar made in waiting for one worth. Wôlim had become a powerful empire that consumed the Southeast and by his descendants, his long oath remained in their name.

When you think you are done, then a freaking LOTR mobile game have you roleplaying an Easterling again.

Was gonna surprise the LOTR followers but - Adunaphel prompt.

reblog to give the person you reblogged this from a little pumpkin 🧡

There is a whisper in the air...a howl carried of malevolence. A warning. A possibility. A Shard of Darkness in the Lightness.

From the heinous East, where the sun set, there is a whisper. A howl afar.

In the bite of a cold I have not the pleasure of feeling, my ring hums of magic still. As I rode from the ruined carriage I find my conscious still, my bound beast still remain with me - morgul-bred and still powerful of her haunches. Across a small inn with mortals that looked upon my visage and rightfully tasted fear enough to stay a distance away.

My attention was upon a ruined tower looming over the ice-kissed hill. 

Through the rocks, my mare crossed and ventured along. Near the lip of the hill, I dismounted upon the sight of these mortals clad in robes. I could taste their magics and hungered a feast. So far from Barad-dur’s gaze yet I could always feel His scrutiny. 

These mortals were of men and elves, not like that of the bothersome Highbred whelps that we suffer. Their potency and mysticism were moot. Their magics of wards brought some intrigue, but onto me - they saw a threat and arrogance tithered as spells weaved of arcane frost and fire lashed upon me. 

I saw the weaklings that they were and like a wolf, I pounced the sheep with blade and true spells taught.

The Dog-Lord has been missing in a realm different yet similar to Middle-Earth. Where has he gone?

Message from the Third

I am sorry to everyone for my disappearances, work has been utterly draining and this writing block is slowly dying out finally. Nevermind the Tumblr mess that passed. 

Hopefully, I can return to you all soon and be able to dedicate to you all. I am still thinking about everyone! Be good (or bad, depending.)

“A threat is nothing, it is like a child holding a blade to a soldier. You can bare your teeth and holler in hopes to bring fear to your foe.” The dark shadow clad of shrouded armour and a snarling masked-regalia glaring of fell light. Its voice the very offense of life itself, making the air groan and crackle like dying wood to a constant pressure. “It is the promise of your fangs baring down on their soft flesh and bones.’

The legends of mewling sheep that you have taken in the night. The cries of hunters lost in your woods. The absolute certainity that your anger shall fall upon them at a moment’s notice.”

“Then it is no longer a threat, it is instinct to fear and respect to the chain of the predator. It shall forever be like a shadow under your stride.”

Listen - Dwar of Waw the Dog-Lord

this meme

— “Why do threat of anger never linger?”

song here

Art by Jaime Jones

NAZGUL SCREECHES OVER THE HILL!

“True.” Dwar agreed. Looking at the approaching pirate-lord and when he moved to link arms, he recognized the gesture enough to complete it. What were the Uruk going to do; mock the creatures that could kill them without so much of a effort.

The Nazgul stepped from one of their personal chambers to start the walk for the stables. Dwar was often there, if not tending to the breeding pits or consorting with the Men that lived in Minas Morgul. Between the two, Ji was the more social. Despite his lordship, the Dog-Lord had little patience for the uruk squabbling and dung-mindedness. 

However, they served their purpose well enough. The Men dwelling here were of many cultures, most transferred from the ranks of Rhun’s dragon army or the variags of Khand. His influence brought companies’ worth of Wolim dog-warriors for his personal retinue and enforcers. Generations of his teachings bred survivalists and natural hunters with an innate bond with their hunting dogs and Mordor’s more fickle wargs.

Out these two lord went into the moonlight gloom of Minas Morgul.

"Maybe I can help you find what you're missing?"

The Prince of the Umbaran Sea knew the Dog-Lord for a long time, on battle and personal, and it was rare to see the warlord in a moment of distress. His hood was drawn back to reveal the stony face knitted by its brows. The telltale features of Far Eastern Rhun were noticeable on his pale ruddy skin, framed by the twilight-white of his once black hair into a complimentary peppering from his knotted mane and trimmed beard. Eyes staring out at nothing in particular and hands on his desk. “I…am not sure what it is.” He answered with a sense of embarrassment to be this flustered. Then those hazel eyes flicked into Ji’s direction. “Is there anything I am to be aware of in my absence?”

Dwar stood into his usual regal militant way as he searched the edges of his shackled mind. His left hand twitched with his gift - and bondage - glowing with its corrupted gem of fell beauty. “Perhaps the jovial thoughts, they ache my heart at times.” He admits with a touch upon his unbeating chest. Rare did he think of the past, but when he did it was a lapse of discipline to remind his lost innocence as a fisherman’s boy. 

Even in his time as a mortal king, mirth was not a pastime. He was a wolf that sought the utter eradication of an enemy pack and things like family or festivities were beneath his attention, but he knows his descendants dwell in Waw or other parts as warriors of Sauron’s scheme one way or another. 

When he finally looked at the ever welcoming smile of Ji Indur, Dwar envied the easy friendship that the pirate delivered. How did a man like this end into the clenched nine-fingered fist of their mutual master? 

“Perhaps a walk will do. Staying indoors tend to make me...restless.” Sleep was a rarity and even the concept was beyond his form. Sleep just put his mind to the realm of solace and meditation.

"Maybe I can help you find what you're missing?"

The Prince of the Umbaran Sea knew the Dog-Lord for a long time, on battle and personal, and it was rare to see the warlord in a moment of distress. His hood was drawn back to reveal the stony face knitted by its brows. The telltale features of Far Eastern Rhun were noticeable on his pale ruddy skin, framed by the twilight-white of his once black hair into a complimentary peppering from his knotted mane and trimmed beard. Eyes staring out at nothing in particular and hands on his desk. “I…am not sure what it is.” He answered with a sense of embarrassment to be this flustered. Then those hazel eyes flicked into Ji’s direction. “Is there anything I am to be aware of in my absence?”

"Maybe I can help you find what you're missing?"

The Prince of the Umbaran Sea knew the Dog-Lord for a long time, on battle and personal, and it was rare to see the warlord in a moment of distress. His hood was drawn back to reveal the stony face knitted by its brows. The telltale features of Far Eastern Rhun were noticeable on his pale ruddy skin, framed by the twilight-white of his once black hair into a complimentary peppering from his knotted mane and trimmed beard. Eyes staring out at nothing in particular and hands on his desk. “I...am not sure what it is.” He answered with a sense of embarrassment to be this flustered. Then those hazel eyes flicked into Ji’s direction. “Is there anything I am to be aware of in my absence?”

I am missing something and I am not sure what.