Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
Our tale takes us to Middle-Earth, dear listeners. A land of beauty and wonder not seen in our realm of existence. Kingdoms of Men most noble exist in these lands, chivalrous Gondorians and the Rohirrim Horse Lords; mighty bastions of good. Within their halls of stone and under mountains old dwell the Dwarves, a proud people with whom the world watches enviously, for their mounds of wealth are plenty and theirs. In forests yonder with music, art and song have the age-old Elves made a home, a race of peace and tranquility that will do all to defend what it has. Finally, the Hobbits most fair reside in their small dwelling; the Shire. They are a peaceful folk, not willing to get involved within the diplomacy and tidings of the other peoples of Arda.
All is not well upon Middle-Earth however, for after an eon of waiting, the Dark Lord Sauron; Servant of Morgoth, has returned. He brings with him fire and malice to conquer the lands of Men, Dwarf, Elf and Hobbit and will do all in his unquestionable power to seize the territories that he believes are rightfully his, to bring forth an order of excellence and efficiency, to succeed where his master could not. To his South reside the Haradrim, or Southrons in our Western-Tongue, tribal confederations aplenty united in their hatred for the Men of the West. To his North we find the powerful and militaristic Easterlings, Men of Rhun who have themselves brought Gondor onto her knees innumerable times. Sauron's numerous legions are filled with Orcs, creatures that themselves are testimony to the defiance against Eru Ilúvatar and Sauron will unleash them upon Arda when he is ready.
Long ago, Sauron forged a mighty tool: The One Ring. He lost this weapon long ago - at the final battle of the War of the Last Alliance. Now he yearns for its return and will stop at nothing to get it to assist him in his quest for unification and conquest of Arda. Long ago it was lost, and has passed into shadow, but as the ages of the world turn what is forgotten may once more be remembered...
Now it is up to you, listener of this tale; what side do you fight for?
The soldiers squatted in the shade of a copse of fir trees, peering out between the thick green branches at the tumbled stone and cracked walls of the white city beyond. One chewed contemplatively on a hunk of gristle he had found between his teeth - a hunk of a breakfast now departed, no doubt - while the other was making intermittent marks on a black piece of rock with a piece of white chalk. The Southrons shifted from time to time, swarthy faces dappled gray-brown in the mottled shadows, keeping limbs lithe, the hours ticking by.
Eventually night's cloak descended upon the land, and the smaller man kicked his slumbering companion awake.
"Oiv got the count, let's leg it."
His cant was rough Nirnen, the tongue spoken by the amalgamation of Black Numenoreans, slaves, and other Dark Men that lived in the south of Mordor. Beyond their copse he had been studiously keeping track of the number of guards that patrolled the derelict defenses of what had once been the capitol of Gondor, a count his superiors had demanded of the scouts that fought a ceaseless war with the Ithilien Rangers here upon the far banks of the Anduin. It was exciting work, work which had set the swarthy man's veins to humming with barely suppressed energy.
Counting meant someone wanted to know how many defenders the city had. And even his uneducated brain took that conclusion to one logical place - someone wanted to know how many defenders the city had, because someone meant to decide how many soldiers would be necessary to take the city. Finally, an opportunity for some proper war, instead of this hiding and skulking.
Under the cover of darkness the two men, hooded and cloaked in daubed gray and black, slipped back towards the Mountains of Shadow.