Archive Software Upgrade and Downtime on April 19, 2025
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“Narsil!” Malbeth coughed again. “It will be reforged—when Isildur’s Bane is found."
It came in fragments, glimpses, shades of grey. There was a wide land under a growing shadow as darkness rose like a wave—like the wave that had crushed Númenor, that she dreamed of so often—like great dark wings of some fell creature, like the darkness was a thing in itself and not merely the absence of light.
Under the growing shadows of Angmar and amid her prophecies, Malbeth loves Fíriel and bides her time.