Kapitel 32: Kingdom of Angmar
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The ruins of the kingdom of Angmar were an eerie place, dark and full of secrets. The darkness seemed denser here, the shadows deeper, and the air colder. Narzug made his way through this decayed and cursed landscape. His destination was Carn Dûm, the old fortress of the Witch-king of Angmar. At his side were the four remaining wargs, with Lady once again serving as his mount.
Narzug's eyes were sharp and vigilant, and his instinct constantly warned him of possible dangers. He was tense, ready to strike with Ira at any moment.
As they approached the first ruins, the landscape became even more inhospitable. Everywhere lay the remains of decayed buildings and destroyed walls. The ruins were full of debris, and the ground was uneven and dangerous. Narzug had Lady cautiously trot ahead, always careful not to fall into a hidden trap.
"Forward, Lady," Narzug growled. "Keep your eyes open. We don't know what awaits us here."
The wargs sniffed the air and moved silently through the ruins. Their sharp senses could detect dangers early, and Narzug trusted in their and his own instincts, even though almost all his inner senses were nearly suppressed by the sheer mass of hatred and envy in the air. Together, they searched the decayed buildings and explored the mysterious tunnels and passages.
In a particularly well-preserved ruin, Narzug discovered old weapons and armor, remnants of past fighters who had fallen here long ago. The weapons were rusty, and the armor tattered, but they told a story of great battles and heroic fights. However, the weapons were no longer useful.
Suddenly, he felt a great surge of pride in Ira, and as if Ira had whispered in his ear, he smashed all the remnants of weapons and armor into small splinters.
"Ira is becoming more willful," Narzug murmured. "Maybe a consciousness is awakening in her?"
They continued their way and came upon an abandoned fortress. The walls were high and massive, but they were marked by the ravages of time. Narzug cautiously entered the fortress, always ready to react to attacks. The wargs followed closely on his heels, their eyes and ears constantly on alert.
Suddenly, they heard a strange noise, a faint rustling coming from the shadows. Narzug raised his axe and signaled the wargs to stay still. They moved slowly forward, their senses strained. The noise came closer, and Narzug realized it came from a group of creatures hiding in the darkness.
"Get ready," Narzug whispered.
Suddenly, several figures emerged from the shadows – ancient, rotting corpses brought to life by a dark power. The undead creatures attacked, their eyes glowing with an eerie red light. Narzug swung his axe and struck. With a mighty blow, he split the skull of the first attacker. The wargs leaped forward and tore the other undead to pieces. It was a short, fierce fight, and soon the creatures lay shattered on the ground.
Narzug wiped the blood from his axe and looked around. "Spirits and souls bound to the dead by the Witch-king," he interpreted. "Did the Witch-king of Angmar conduct similar experiments to Morgoth and Sauron in the First Age? Does the word 'Witch-king' perhaps refer to necromancy? In the books, this was never elaborated on, as far as I know... maybe it is just a fraction of the Witch-king abilities..."
They continued their way and searched the fortress further. In one of the rooms, they found old scrolls and books telling the history of Angmar. Narzug took some of the scrolls, hoping they would contain useful information about the dark arts of the sorcerers.
As they left the fortress, their path led them deeper into the north and thus into the heart of Angmar. The darkness seemed to grow denser, and an eerie silence hung over the landscape.
Then they heard a deep, menacing roar. Narzug and the wargs stopped and looked around warily.
A huge monster emerged from the shadows, a creature of terrible size and strength. It was a troll, its skin thick and covered with scars, and its eyes sparkled with hatred. The troll attacked with a mighty club swing, and Narzug dodged casually.
"Just a troll, though one bred for war. I'll leave it to you; if you die, you are too weak for my pack anyway!" Narzug called.
The wargs attacked the troll, but the creature was strong and fought back fiercely. They circled the troll, looking for a weak spot. With a targeted bite, Ghost tore at the troll's leg, bringing him to fall and inflicting a deep wound. The troll roared in pain and fury, swinging wildly.
The wargs skillfully dodged the heavy blows and attacked again. They bit repeatedly until the huge creature finally fell to the ground after Lady bit into the troll's neck. The battle was hard and fierce for the wargs, but Narzug just nodded and stepped over and onto the corpse without further words.
They took only a short break to lick their wounds and devour the troll, then continued on their way. The path to Carn Dûm was still long and dangerous, and they had to remain vigilant. The lands of Angmar were full of dangers, and Narzug knew they could encounter more enemies at any time.
Narzug finally stood on a rocky hill and looked out over the dark landscape before him. The wind whistled through the mountains, carrying the smell of smoke and metal. On the horizon, amidst the snow-capped peaks, a mighty castle rose.
Its massive, jagged towers reached into the threateningly dark sky and were illuminated by occasional flashes of lightning, making its sinister silhouette appear even more dramatic. The castle seemed to be carved out of the rock itself, its walls dark and ominous, as if it were part of the mountain range.
The structure seemed abandoned and yet alive, as if it had a life of its own, drenched in old secrets and countless battles. Narzug could see the narrow bridge leading to the castle, like a thin thread stretching through the icy valleys.
A shudder of anticipation ran down his spine as he imagined what horrors but also knowledge might be hidden behind these mighty walls.
This castle was much larger and more imposing than the first ones. The walls were high and studded with spikes and spears, and the towers jutted menacingly into the sky.
"That must be Carn Dûm," he said. "We are almost there."
But before they could reach the fortress, they had to pass through an area full of decayed buildings and rugged landscapes. Here, more dangers lurked. Suddenly, they were attacked by a group of giant spiders whose webs covered the ruins.
Narzug fought the spiders determinedly, Ira swung in quick, deadly arcs. The wargs jumped and bit, tearing the spiders to pieces. It was a hectic battle, and Narzug enjoyed every moment. He found the sound of the bursting spider bodies and the splitting of the chitin oddly satisfying.
When the last spiders were defeated, they continued directly on their way. Neither Narzug nor the wargs were much in the mood for spider barbecue. The air grew even colder, and it began to snow heavily. A thick blanket of snow covered the landscape quickly.
Narzug and his four wargs struggled through the deep snow, which turned the last kilometers of their journey into an almost insurmountable obstacle. The sky was dark, the last rays of the cold sun long gone behind a curtain of dense, gray clouds. Icy wind whistled through the gorges and valleys, while thick flakes fell in swirling eddies from the sky. A snowstorm enveloped them. Every movement was difficult as the icy claws of the storm gripped their limbs, turning every exertion into painful frost.
The wargs stayed close to Narzug's side, and finally, he had to dismount from Lady, as she could no longer move forward with the extra weight. Their eyes glowed in the darkness, and their breath formed dense clouds in the cold air. Narzug led the group forward with an iron hand. Each of his steps left deep prints in the snow, soon covered again by the swirling flakes.
Suddenly, the wind intensified, and a piercing sound rose, drowning out the howling of the wargs and the crunching of the snow under their feet. It was an eerie whisper, floating through the air like an icy breath and forming in the Black Speech of Mordor: "Who dares to enter the lands of Sauron's first servant!" The words seemed to come directly from the heart of the storm, carried by a power older and darker than the ruins through which they traveled.
Narzug stopped and raised his head, squinting against the biting wind. He listened, his senses sharpened, but there was nothing except the whisper of the storm and the restless movements of his wargs. The whisper repeated, penetrating deeper into his thoughts, dissolving his determination, and sowing doubt in his mind.
But Narzug was not easily shaken. He roared, a deep, guttural sound that rolled through the wintry landscape like thunder. It was a call that came from the depths of his soul, an expression of his insatiable greed and unbroken will. The wargs responded with a deafening howl that rose into the night and seemed to pierce the storm.
Then Narzug began to sing. It was the song of his heart, a dark and sinister chant that spoke of eerie greed and untamed power. His voice rose above the wind, fought against the whisper of the storm, and finally silenced it. The power of his endless greed and the darkness of his song forced the storm to its knees.
After an apparently endless time, the storm subsided, as if it had given up the fight. The wind abated, the thick snowflakes became fewer, and the air gradually cleared. Narzug and his wargs continued their way, leaving the icy blades of the storm behind. Before them finally emerged the silhouette of a mighty bridge, appearing in the twilight like a dark monument.
They now stood before the bridge to Carn Dûm, the sinister stronghold in the far north. Without hesitation, Narzug set his foot on the stone bridge and led his wargs further into the darkness, ready to reach the heart of the darkness.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein