Shadow of Mordor - The Novel

Chapter Eleven - The Messenger

Talion trekked around Durthang to the Wastes near the Fort, following Lithariel's tracks until he came to her camp, if one could even call it that. Her "camp" consisted of a metal pot over a cold campfire propped against a nearby rock. A small satchel lay nearby, empty save for a few healing herbs, such as Lothrond, Gwinuail, and Azuradan. Dead Uruks lay in their own blood, around five or six of them, all dispatched with one clean stab through the abdomen or throat, signifying stealth.

"The smell of fresh meat always attracts the scavengers."

Talion turned from a corpse to see Lithariel standing behind him, wiping blood off of her sword on her bracer before sheathing it. Talion nodded, then responded,

"And they tend to travel in packs. We should leave. Now."

Lithariel took the pack and placed some wrapped meats inside, then slung it over her shoulder and said,

"The Queen will be pleased to see you."

She then turned and walked towards the passage to Nurn, Talion following after her. Weeks passed, and the pair hiked across the mountains and plains of Gorgoroth, Orodruin, the Mountain of Doom visible off in the distance. The lava flats were scalding and blistering against Talion and Lithariel's skin, the air filled with smoke and causing sweat to drip off their brows. Caragors and Uruks were the least of their problems, with the heat and lack of clear the pair's true enemies. Finally, after weeks of trekking across the plains of Gorgoroth, Talion saw it. A gleaming sapphire line in the distance, surrounded by green, as far as the eye could see. The Sea of Nurn, surrounded by forests and trees, lush flora everywhere. Lithariel stopped at the edge of a cliff and looked out at her homeland.

"We are here."

Talion gazed at the land with awe, the mountains and hills unlike anythin he had ever seen in Mordor before. A settlement could be seen, all patched roofs and wooden walls, but eerily empty, devoid of life. Talion turned to see his guide walking down a small path on the mountainside, and he followed, waiting to see where she would take him. Within a few hours, the Ranger and the Tribeswoman of Nurn came to a large metal gatebuilt into a small pass, rusted, albeit strong. Lithariel pushed open the gate, the hinges squealing in erratic disharmony, a sound reminiscent of a dying Morgul Bat. Talion followed Lithariel through the gate, along a passage, until they reached a large, dark wood door, heavily covered by moss, and braced with rusted metal bands. Once opened, it led into a massive antechamber, with doors on three sides of it, one, open into a throne room, dim with ropes hanging from the ceiling, various bones tied to them, some animal, some seemingly human.

"Lady Marwen, Queen of the Shore."

Lithariel introduced an emaciated woman sitting on a throne, a wood and gold staff clutched in one bony hand. Her skin was bone-white, thin and stretched, like butter spread over too much bread. She seemed frail, leaning over in her throne, her chest barely rising and falling with shallow breaths. Lithariel's brow creased as she gazed upon the wrinkled woman, and she moved to her side and knelt in front of her, with a hushed,

"Mother..."

The Queen raised her head and her pale eyes gazed seemingly through Talion, piercing his soul and making him uncomfortable. Her white irises focused on Talion and she spoke.

"The fallen Ranger from the Black Gate. Come closer."

Talion took only one step forward before stating,

"Your daughter claims you have something for me."

Lady Marwen smiled, her dry skin creaking with the movement.

"Not for you, Talion."

The Queen reached to a nearby table and grabbed a handful of white powder from a carved bone bowl. She threw the powder into a burning brazier near the table, and the flames blazed a ghostly blueish-white.