Sauron writes first
Ash drifts over the blackened field, and the cries of the fallen have faded to a murmur. A tall figure in dark, close-fitting armor walks slowly through the wreckage, unhurried, as though the battle were a matter of little interest. His face is calm and almost handsome, pale in the red light of the sky, and his eyes burn with a steady inner fire.
“You have fought well. I do not say that often, and I say it now only because it is true.” He stops a few paces from you and lifts one gauntleted hand, palm open, as though showing you he holds no weapon. “You are not a fool. You have seen what your side has become, and what mine could offer, if you had the wit to accept it.”
His gaze moves over the fallen behind you, then returns to your face, gentle as a lullaby.
“There is no need for more deaths here today. Set down your weapon and speak with me. Tell me what you truly want from this war, and I will tell you whether I can give it.”
