Kapitel 33: Job Interview?!
Narzug proceeded slowly and cautiously. The only sounds in the air were the quiet breathing of the wargs and the footsteps echoing on the hard stone.
The fortress seemed apparently abandoned, but Narzug could hear a faint song coming from the center of the fortress. It sang of darkness and envy of the living. "Could one of the Nazgûl be here? Or is it just another miserable creature bound to the bodies of the dead?" thought Narzug as he walked through the open gate to the fortress.
He was drawn to the song, but instead of resisting, he let himself be guided by it. Narzug walked through deserted corridors and halls, all illuminated by slightly green-burning torches that painted a ghostly atmosphere.
He found nothing, everything was empty and abandoned, and not even the dust of centuries dared to enter the fortress. Finally, Narzug stood before a large door forged from black metal.
"Carn Dûm was extremely boring, I couldn't even find out anything about its history. Hopefully, the creature with the song behind these doors will surprise me," muttered Narzug and then ordered his wargs to wait. Slowly, he approached the door and pushed it open.
The initially faint whisper of a song in the room before him grew louder, until it practically screamed as the door was open. Narzug stepped in, and the door slammed shut with a loud bang.
Narzug was greeted by complete darkness. For a few moments, nothing happened until a cold, echoing voice greeted Narzug from the darkness.
"Narzug the Mist Demon, slayer of Dúnedain and Orc Shaman from the Misty Mountains… you were expected…"
Slowly, a figure emerged from the darkness. It was blacker than the room and about the size of a human. It wore a black cloak with a hood that covered its face. The blackness under the hood was like a black hole, absorbing the remaining light rays.
"One of the Nazgûl!" screamed Narzug in his head and immediately prepared for all possibilities. Ira in hand and the song of his heart on his lips, ready at any moment to shift into his hybrid form.
"Put away your weapon, Orc Shaman! You will not need it. You will leave this room only in two ways. Either as a vassal of Sauron or without your head on your shoulders. In both cases, your axe will do you no good!" whispered the voice in the darkness.
"My name is Khamûl, also known as the 'Shadow of the East'. I was sent from Mordor to find you here…"
Narzug rummaged in his memory about the Nazgûl before him, and he knew immediately who stood before him. Overall, not much was known about the Nazgûl, and only two of the nine were named in the books. The Witch-king of Angmar and Khamûl.
Khamûl, also known as the 'Shadow of the East,' was one of the nine Nazgûl, cursed by Sauron after they received the Rings of Power. Likely originally a king of the Easterlings, he was often described as the second most powerful of the Nazgûl after the Witch-king of Angmar. Khamûl was known for his exceptional tracking abilities, surpassed only by the Witch-king.
Apparently, Narzug was also tracked down by these abilities. After the fall of Númenor, he joined Sauron in Dol Guldur and eventually became his deputy in this fortress in Mirkwood. In the events of "The Lord of the Rings," he oversaw the search for the One Ring in the Shire and showed a particular weakness for sunlight, which greatly diminished his powers during the day. However, this is still a few years in the future.
"Narzug the Mist Demon, you are called to arms by the Dark Lord himself for the orcs. You will be their leader; your task will be to rebuild Angmar and let the West fall into fear and terror!"
Narzug gritted his teeth; all of this did not fit into his plans at all. He had his own plans and, above all, did not want to become Sauron's lapdog.
"You don't want to take on this task?! Think it over carefully..." the voice sounded again, and as if on command, the green torches in the throne room flickered. Everywhere Narzug could now see treasures, old armors and swords, and an incredible amount of black gold.
But that wasn't all. Narzug could see that besides Khamûl, there were two other Nazgûl, as well as 50 Orcs and 50 Black Númenóreans. All with drawn weapons, just waiting for a command from Khamûl to attack Narzug.
"It's not that I don't want to," Narzug replied, "I just think my skills can serve the Dark Lord better in another way... I haven't consumed enough sources yet and would prefer to become stronger in Sauron's name to destroy his enemies." Although he didn't actually want to serve Sauron at all, Narzug had to take a step back.
"You don't need the hearts, right? We can bring them to you, the wealth of Mordor is immeasurable."
"But I can only absorb the full strength if I conquer the heart myself, my greed demands it so."
"Do not lie to a Nazgûl, Narzug the Mist Demon. I can smell the heart of the dragon Smaug in you. According to our spies, Smaug was slain by King Bard of Dale. That was your first mistake; there won't be a second!" Khamûl shouted, and the assembled warriors tensed.
"I am not lying, Khamûl! Or do I have the full strength of Smaug?! No, I could only consume a fraction. How about a deal? I will become stronger and then serve the Dark Lord..."
"You want to become stronger? Then I propose a counteroffer. Swear your loyalty to me by your source, become my personal lackey, in return you can keep your head, and I will teach you the ways of the sorcerers!" Khamûl proposed, letting a green flame dance around his hand.
Narzug hesitated; he wanted these powers, but were they worth the price? Could the Nazgûl even bind him with an oath? After all, Narzug was a much older being and also more powerful, though not at the moment. His song was still recovering from his existence as a Nameless One.
"Alright then, Khamûl, I'll agree to this deal. But only on one condition... after I have learned under you, I will continue to explore the world and gain my full strength by devouring more creatures. Moreover, I do not intend to stay in Angmar forever; I had originally planned to take over Moria, especially now that the weakling Azog the Defiler has been slain," Narzug finally said, revealing part of his plans.
"Moria, Moria...? I will discuss it with my lord, but you have my consent. It is important to hold the Misty Mountains... you may leave the throne room, with your head. Tomorrow, as the last rays of the sun set, your training begins. Do not be late. And do not forget that you have an oath to swear first thing tomorrow!"
Narzug gave a slight bow to the Nazgûl and made a direct path out of the throne room. Inside, his mind was racing to revise his plans and impose his will.
"Fuck, why does survival always have to come first? I think I'm getting stronger and then something like this happens again! When will I finally be able to give a complete fuck about what others want! At least Khamûl hasn't recognized my true nature..."
The doors opened again by some unseen force, and an Orc led Narzug to a room prepared for him.
Back in the throne room, the three Nazgûl could be heard discussing. The Orcs and Black Númenóreans had also left the throne room, leaving only the Ringwraiths behind.
Khamûl had seated himself on the black throne that once belonged to the Witch-king. The other two Nazgûl knelt before him.
"My lord Khamûl, why do you give this little weakling Orc so many liberties?" asked one of the kneeling Ringwraiths.
"Why do you question my word, Helm Hammerhand! Are you getting tired of your existence? Unlike you, I have always served the great Sauron! You miserable turncoat; I have never understood why someone like you deserved one of the rings!
Moreover, you are also blind, did you not see the ring on the Orc's finger?! Did you not see the shadow of the Dark Lord in his mind? He wears one of the Dwarven rings! Soon, we will likely have another brother, and I will be his master!" hissed Khamûl, and if one could see his mouth, it would surely have twisted into an evil grin.
The last of the three Nazgûl also chimed in: "Do not rejoice too soon, our master grows stronger every day, he will likely be the sole master over the Orc, just as he is over us..."
"Suladân, you old spoilsport, of course my lord always comes first, I will make the Orc a powerful tool for our master!"
--
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The age of Men is over. The time of the Orcs has come.
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