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THE RAVINE
Beneath the shrieking winds of the storm the ancient breath of stagnant air roils, its tendrils snaking along the great pile of stones above the buried Hunger. There is still, even after so long a time, the traces of a life within the winds here, traces that the winds have denied to the Hunger all this time.
Yes! His life still moves here, mingled among these winds! ...... O! The fool! the splendid fool! Brilliant in his defiance! Small wonder that none expected him to pour out his life over this same ravenous appetite that stole the power of the Ring itself! ....... Ah! But what this fearsome Hunger cannot seize, I might savor ...... Yes! The traces of his life here shall simply have to do until I might break him and consume every last bit of the defiant freedom .......
And neither the Hunger below, nor the winds above can prevent the Devouring Wind from seizing the traces of the Windbringer’s life. And as these traces are consumed the Devourer breathes its satisfaction into the storm, and another life mingles itself with the winds.
O yes! ...... It is time! Time for those beneath the earth to act ....... How splendidly receptive they have proven to be! ...... It is to laugh! ...... Yes, my mighty servants. Sons of the Modding One you call yourselves, but my whispered malice has awakened your slumbering might. Yes! Act now for it is time ....... After all, who shall contest your claim?
And within the angry movement of the storm there is a sound not unlike that of laughter.
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