It must be near to two months since the day I arrived at the Black Gate on my quest for the ring-lore of Sauron. Finally I have the tower in sight that should hold the secrets I seek for my king. Barad-Dûr, the Dark Tower, once home to Sauron himself. It lies in ruins now, its foundations burning in the fire of the mountain of doom. I can only hope that midst the debris lies the Dark Lord's knowledge still, buried under rock or hidden in some deep chamber yet open to exploration.
I think I found it! Against all odds I think I found some record of the ring-lore of Sauron. I carry with me several black books, some with circular markings on it and a writing I cannot hope to decipher. It must be Black Speech, the vile tongue the Dark Lord devised for his servants. I had hoped to find records written in the common tongue, or in some elvish dialect. Alas it seems like I am forced to find someone who can read it for me.
Getting my hands on these was no easy task, but the danger lay mostly in trying not to fall in the nearest fissure or being crushed by falling debris, rather than the risk of being discovered. I managed to squeeze myself in some dark hole and down I went into tunnels unknown. Many of the passageways were caved in and any wrong or hasty movement could have meant the same for me. I could hardly breathe in there. But just as I was about to give up hope, I came upon a closed room with strong doors of hardened steel. There was no lock on the door and it seemed like it could only have been opened by some evil spell. However, while the doors were still standing, the wall to its right had cracked open. There was enough room for me to climb in through the gap and when I did, I saw what I had hoped to see ever since I set foot upon the road east from the Blue Mountains.
Piles and piles of books. Some were rotten and seemed to be of little importance, but a few were mounted on pedestals and were much heavier and full of markings and writings the like which I had never seen before. 'These must be full of secrets', I thought. I carefully picked up the book, but something felt wrong. For a fleeting moment a shadow crept over the wall and I felt suddenly afraid. I did not wish to tarry any longer, so I closed three of the books mounted and put them in my saddle bag, then I ran towards the crack in the wall and jumped out. I cared not for falling debris nor was I afeared of discovery. I simply wished to get out of there as soon as I could.
As I neared the hole from whence I entered, my eye caught a faint beam of light and I rejoiced that I had found my way out. But then I heard a rumbling in the deep, followed by the feeling of the floor caving in under my feet. I nearly dropped to my death, but luck seemed to persist me a little while longer, even after all this time. I climbed out of the fissure and the small hole and greeted the open air. A soft but disappointing breeze failed to meet my demand for fresh air, but a single look at the bag in my hands made me feel like it had all been worthwhile.
Now I must find my way back to the Black Gate from where I will start my search for someone who can read these texts. I know just where to start!
