Plateau of Gorgoroth

[Alcorad]

Gorgoroth, the valley of terror in the land of Mordor. Darkness lay there under the sun. Fire glowed amid the smoke. Mount Doom was burning and a great reek rising. 'Gorgoroth' meens approximately 'place of very great dread.'

The wasted desert of the northern regions of Mordor, between the arms of the Ered Lithui and Ephel Duath, that border to the South and East by the Maegond and Mirtham Spur. A place of broken slagand ash with pits of molten lava and choking fumes. A land of darkness and dispair.

Both Orodruin and Barad-Dur stood on Gorgoroth, for this was the center of the Dark Lord's land and reflected the harsh, bitter, and twisted nature of his dark will that ruled over it.

[Tathar Carnesîr]

Tathar stood at the top of one of the cliffs on the Plateau. His necklace lay against the cold flesh of his chest covered by his armor. The Noldors long black hair whipped in the wind as he looked out into the crushed land. It seemed like his old friend Sauron had done quite abit of damage to the land. Barely anything survived.

" Oh, Eru what have you don Dark One?" He asked outloud. He believed in conquering land, but never destroying it. Then it was useless. Sauron had never thought ahead like that, he had been to close minded. More of a brutal killing machine like his filthy Orcs.

[Alcorad]

In the Dark Tower of Barad-dur, across the molten road of Ghash, there sat the Dark Lord, Alcorad, in all of his fell splendour. In his long gaze he felt the surge of a long forgotten power unseen since the days of Angband. His crimson gaze travelled far and there upon the Gorgoroth stood a lone shadow among the decay. Alcorad's eyes focused upon the newcomer, pericing through mortar, stone, and flesh until at last it focused upon the amulet bestowed upon the forgotten child by the creator of sin himself. "And so he lives." Alcorad muttered darkly, his mouth becoming slightly agape. From the dark eryie of the vale of the ancient steeds that the Nazgul travelled upon, immerged nine familiar shadows, dark beasts that lingered on from ages past known only as Fell Beasts to those of Westerness. The 'Fell Beasts' circled Barad-dur at their master's call and from the gothic veranda before the throne of Lugburz came a shadow of immeasurable power. Twas Alcorad, Lord of Defile and now he mounted his creature and descended down into the heart of Mordor. The ashen winds bore him to his destination and in due time the beast that had carried him turned his flaps of hide and made a foothold in the dead soil of the desert of shadows. There, still waiting patiently was the one whom Alcorad had senced, Tathar, son of Bauglir, Morgoth the Dark Enemy, the creator of sin. Of old this was the son of Alcorad's former master of whom many of his dark sorceries had been learned from but still others in the heart of the world among the Valaraukar, Melkor's most deadly of servants. Now Alcorad would reveal himself in all of his glory before the only one who bore the remnants of the ancient malice that created the harsh mountains of the Thangorodrim.

"I bid thee welcome, Son of Bauglir." Alcorad said with an insideous grin. "Long have those who survived the War of Wrath sought you out but to no avail and e'en now it seems that you have come before me but in search of another I presume for the shadow that is I has only dwelt here for a short time, still overlapping that who was Gorthaur. Perhaps it is he that you seek but if my assumptions are correct then your search shall last long and shall not end ere the coming of the end of days. Nay. Sauron has passed from this land for in his ambition and in his arrogance he focused his power into a trinket that would eventually undo him. And so I say Sauron no longer holds dominion over this land but has been sealed away in the void. But still I must say that your coming here can only be described as irony for in your search of Sauron, you found his equal in Morgoth's army. I am Alcorad, Lord of Fire and Misery."