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The White Council

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Walküre:
THE SECOND MEETINGThe premises of the meeting
The White Council meets again in T.A. 2851, nearly 400 years after the first assembly, in the midst of a sudden surge of grave and very grim events. Mirkwood got even darker and the power hiding there has overtly held dominion over the southern territories of the vast woods, terrorising anyone dwelling in the vicinity. A ghoulish and obscure force that gathered Orcs and fell creatures in the eerie pits of the fortress. The source of this relentless malice poisoned anything alive in the surrounding areas and cloaked Dol Guldur under a strong spell of concealment, through which even Galadriel may not now see anymore.



Saruman had in the meantime settled in Isengard, making this ancient Númenórean fortress his stable residence. In spite of the expectations of the Wise, he didn't endeavour for the cause of the White Council as he should have done; that this, the awakening shadows in Mirkwood weren't the priority of his action. On the other side, he had poured all himself in the studying of the forgotten and arcane arts of the forging of the Rings of Power, in an attempt to retrieve what was irreparably lost. Hoping that this kind of knowledge would eventually strengthen his power and thus his authority, he however started desiring the possession of the One Ring more and more, believing that Sauron's artefact could have indeed survived and remained unspoiled in the passing of centuries. Galadriel and Gandalf began to be concerned by this attitude, and they feared that the judgment of their chief was ever faltering in those times of emergency.



Therefore, via circumventing the rule of the White Wizard, Gandalf (supported by the Lady of Light) visited Dol Guldur again, disguised as an old and mysterious wanderer by the action of his magic. Once passed through the sentinels and the foul beasts patrolling the surroundings woods, the Grey Pilgrim entered the fortress and lifted the spell that kept it hidden. After the discovery of Thráin II, agonising and revealing before his departure that his Ring of Power had been retrieved by the Enemy, Gandalf faced the darkness of the Necromancer, who finally unveiled his identity as Sauron and manifested his true purposes. Despite the terror emanated by the revenant Sauron, the Evil didn't manage to win the Istar and Gandalf found thus a way out of that dreadful peril.



The White Council is summoned again. Galadriel and Gandalf asks for an immediate assault on Dol Guldur, to prevent Sauron from recollecting too much strength and to end his schemes once and for all.

Walküre:
DIGRESSIONThe scene takes place in Caras Galadhon, in the mighty palace of whom reigns supreme over Lórien. It's T.A. 2850 (just one year before the meeting). It's deep night. Galadriel stands firm on the major balcony of the palace; the one towering over all the other gargantuan trees and thus conceding a wide view of all the woods of Lothlórien. Her sight could easily perceive things well beyond the borders of her realm, without relying on the extension of her mind-sensing capabilities. A grim expression had formed on her indecipherable face. Only the wisest could have known that this composure of hers indicated ill eventualities occurring somewhere in the World. Celeborn, returning from the now-frequent patrols, finds himself in front of such spectacle.

CELEBORN: ''What did you perceive, my Lady, of a so terrible fashion to render you so upset? Please, disclose your heart with no fears.''
GALADRIEL: ''It was as obscure as the darkest night. Rapid and unmerciful. A storm of immense greatness that manifested itself on the other shore. A sudden thunder that tore the sky apart. But Mithrandir is safe. For a moment, I was terrified that it was forever over...''
C: ''I can't seem to understand. What kind of words are you trying to speak, my beloved half?''
G: ''He has returned. The darkness has eventually returned. Middle-earth is now to face the most dreadful of the nightmares, which shall soon spread across all angles of lands. We were right, gallant Lord of the Galadhrim, we saw it rightly. A wraith, a mere slave could have never gathered such shadows in the pits of that eerie horror that stands in front of our safe borders. Indeed, the mastermind has come forth.''
C: ''Tell me more, my Queen. My heart is profoundly shaken. And, also, what does the kindhearted Gandalf have to do with all of this. I'm eager to know.''
G: (Making a long sigh and getting even more serious) ''It all started from the recent happenings. The power within that infamous fortress had constantly been getting stronger and darker. The malice hidden in there had concealed the surrounding areas under a powerful spell, of the kind none of the Nazgûl could have performed. As you know, vigilance had become a normal aspect of life and multiple reports from the Woodland Realm had unfortunately confirmed the ever-growing assembling of foul creatures along those territories. For the first time in three millennia, my sight across the river was denied. It therefore seemed that the mysterious Necromancer had chosen to move his last pawns in secrecy, as he was soon to reveal his intentions overtly.

And so, in the darkening hour, I decided to summon Mithrandir at my presence, in whom I place my utmost trust. The Grey Pilgrim had in fact always advocated a careful watch over Dol Guldur, that is now known in the common knowledge as the 'Hill of Sorcery'. A sorcerer was exactly establishing his might and attracting as a beacon all possible threats. As things were evidently boding very ill since the meeting of the White Council, our chief's judgement was and, I fear, is still clouded by wrong thoughts and assumptions. Instead of setting up strategies to counter the pressing issues related to the gathering darkness, he remained locked in his new fortified dwelling, immersing himself in businesses of which I couldn't be capable of knowing the exact nature. Therefore, we have carelessly lowered our guard, while the illness continued to infect and poison.

Yet neither I nor Mithrandir in truth knew how everything was to develop. In spite of the deliberations given by Saruman, I ordered him to enter the fortress and finally unveil that menacing mystery. And it happened. He entered the borders of Dol Guldur, cloaked by his powers and disguised as a lone wanderer. He pierced the defence of the fortress and in that moment he disappeared from my sight. Until some moments ago. Mithrandir found a way out and indeed shall bear the gravest of the news for us. The Necromancer is nothing more than the Dark Lord of Mordor, incapable of taking a physical form yet and recollecting his lost powers, unbeknownst to the majority of us. Sauron, the horror of the First Age, the deceiver of the Second Age, the master of the Rings of Power and the tyrant of the Free People is now again! I saw him. I could never be wrong. He tried to overcome the Istar, but the heart of the wizard was pure and his endurance imperishable. Nenya has reacted with violence, as it has never done for a long time; tell me, can you see it? It's still visible. The Ring of Fire must have shielded Mithrandir from the hopeless void of the Enemy. He is now heading south, riding safely towards the borders of Rohan. Unlikely could someone imagine how I'm relieved to know that he's nonetheless safe.''
C: ''It can't be. All those centuries. He should have been totally vanquished. What do you know about his current strength?''
G: ''The One Ring was not undone in the fire of Mount Doom and the Evil was thus given the chance to linger in Middle-earth. We have all been played for fools. It's our fault. Our vigilance has failed...''
C: ''The armies of Lothlórien are wholly at your command. We're ready to strike immediately!''
G: ''No, such deed would not be wise. Not at this late hour. Sauron has come forth, but I can vaguely sense that he's not in the position to launch anything close to a vast-scale attack yet. But I don't have a clear measure of his might either. We have to plan our moves very carefully. Albeit the valiant courage of our troops, a siege would endanger too many lives, given our present ignorance of his devices. Traps, ambushes and spells may have easily been placed in defence of his lair, during all these years. I fear I don't have the power yet to cure the plague of those woods and to secure a certain victory. With us being busy with the hypothetical fighting, the recent movements of Goblins from the Misty Mountains might suggest that an invasion against our western flank is not a distant reality. Lothlórien can't protect itself and win two enemies at the same time. Furthermore, the White Council must be informed; I will try to urge for an immediate attack. It's imperative that we be ready to deal with this terrible return together, with joined forces.''
C: ''Your will shall be enforced. Patrols shall be doubled and all the peripheral woods shall be guarded by more sentinels. Despite not planning an assault, my Lady, preparations for all eventualities shall be made. I will leave all the matters concerning the Wise and our allies in your precious hands. No one shall never dare to wage war against us and succeed in their propositions. We shall withstand all perils in honour and valour.'' (He leaves)
G: ''Winds and thunders storm on the other side of the river. The weather of the World rages in wrath and is awfully mutated by the arts of the Enemy. Mithrandir, Hope of the Free People, in front of a perilous challenge you were put and many more terrible ones you shall be destined to face. It's time for our will not to falter among the shadows awakening in our grey Middle-earth.''

Walküre:
It's 2851 T.A. Galadriel has just left the borders of the Golden Wood. She's heading to Rivendell to attend the meeting of the White Council. The temporary absence of the Lady of Light compels the forces of Lothlórien to strengthen their own defences and to patrol more portions of the vast woods under the White Lords' domain. The scene is set in the night: Celeborn addresses the rallying sentinels on the eastern borders.
CELEBORN: ''Gallant forces of the Golden Wood, my valiant guardians, foul beings are being gathered on the other side of the river, in the obscurity of Mirkwood. A thick veil of malice and hatred, which can't now be pierced even by the most powerful mind. Desolate packs of Orcs or disbanded masses of beasts, loosely wandering around the southern woods, they are not. There is instead a major mastermind who is moving his own pawns, preparing for battle or for plans we have unfortunately no knowledge of. The power within that eerie fortress next to the ends of this realm is getting stronger and darker as time passes.

Brave sentinels, I fear that, either in a few days or in a century, our enemies will eventually bring the atrocity of war to our door. We must be prepared. In the darkening hour, we shall be ready to face the challenges we are to be put in front of. Let us therefore maintain our guard always high, because blades and thorns will soon become a bitter reality to get acquainted with.

I can't reveal the real nature of the source of such relentless evil yet, but suffice it to say that we are to confront a force who has been scheming in resentment for probably a millennia. Deceitful are his means and treacherous his devices. Instructions have been given. From now on, the path between Lothlórien and Mirkwood is closed and denied to any kind of travellers, as well as the accesses to the Anduin along these shores. Envoys from the Woodland Realm in the far north of Mirkwood, whom we have really hoped to see these years, shall be halted and sent back as a precautionary measure. Unless they have been given authorisation by me or by the Lady, heralds of other realms shall not be allowed to enter these sacred territories either, having this been the customary norm since the beginning. The sole exception consists of Elrond's messengers from Rivendell, even though this is a matter pertaining to the guards of our western flank. We shall show the Enemy that here lies a power which none of his means could ever subjugate!''

Walküre:
THE SECOND MEETING OF THE WHITE COUNCIL
2851 T.A. The second meeting of the White Council finally has its beginning in a cloudy and rainy night in Rivendell. The premises of such important assembly, amidst very stringent contingencies, were more or less known by any of the participants. Galadriel and Gandalf were the ones who had urged the Wise to consult each other, just a year before, following the terrible encounter between the Grey Pilgrim and Sauron himself. Due to the urgency of the situation, other minor members of the assembly have delegated the final decision to the authoritative core of the Wise: Elrond, Galadriel, Gandalf and Saruman (the chief of the council). The four mighty leaders thus have the opportunity of action in their own hands.

THE TOPIC: The sole topic of the meeting is the sudden return of Sauron in Middle-earth, alongside his ambiguous manoeuvres beyond the eastern shores of the Anduin. Galadriel and Gandalf asked that an immediate attack be launched on Dol Guldur. Saruman, on the other hand, lingers in the mist of cautiousness and doesn't miss the chance to criticise the (in his opinion) improvident decision of his fellow Istar to enter that eerie fortress, unbeknownst to the very head of the White Council.

Fine:
The sound of the rain pouring down on the roofs of the buildings in Imladris was heard faintly while the White Council gathered at their preferred meeting place. Words of salutation and greeting were exchanged for a short while, until the host, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, officially commenced the meeting and brought up the topic, that had brought the four wise members of the council together on this day: the return of their old foe, the Dark Lord Sauron. It was a discovery made by Gandalf, when he ventured into the dungeons of Dol Guldur, the stronghold of the dreaded Necromancer of Mirkwood. And thus, the Grey Wizard saw it as his duty to give the Council and its head, Saruman the White, a full report of his foray into the dark fortress.

"As you know, wise councillors, this was my second visit to that blasted castle that sits atop Amon Lanc, gnawed into the mountain and even devouring its very roots deep below. But this time, I was able to confirm the identity of this so-called Necromancer that has been spreading shadow and plague beneath the once fair Greenwood. It is no other than Sauron himself, in weakened state of course, but nevertheless alive. His spirit must have endured, as the Ruling Ring endured."
"It should have been destroyed long ago, were it not for the faintness of the minds of Men," said Elrond regretfully. "Were this thing put back into the flames from whence it was made, Sauron would have been cast down eternally and could never return. But I disgress, Gandalf. Continue with your report, old friend."
"I came to Dol Guldur with great sorrow on my mind," said Gandalf. "I had heard dark rumours and wanted proof. That's why I travelled to the western edge of the forest, crossing the Great River near Lothlórien." He glanced swiftly at the Lady Galadriel, who gave him an amicable smile. "I left my steed behind at the eaves of Mirkwood - the animal did not dare to enter the dread that now lies beneath the dark trees that grow in the southern reaches of the forest. I was unhindered during my approach of the hill of Amon Lanc - from far away, it seemed abandoned, but when I drew closer, I became aware of the presence of enemies: Orcs, and other foul beings. In great secrecy I made my way to the foot of the mountain, where I discovered an entrance to the vast tunnel network that stretches below the stronghold of the necromancer. Pits upon pits and dungeons upon dungeons did his slaves dig into the earth, and it took all of my will and strength to remain hidden from the sight of the orc patrols that kept watch over the miserable beings that are being held captive beneath Dol Guldur. And finally, after hours of scouring through the dungeons, I made a critical discovery: an old Dwarf, barely clinging to the life left in him, speaking in confused sentences. It was Thráin, the King under the Mountain, who was thought lost on his recent quest to Erebor."
"King-in-exile," corrected Elrond. "How did you know it was Thráin? I housed his company shortly when they were on their way to the Lonely Mountain, and felt the presence of an artifact of great power, when I briefly spoke with Thráin." The Lord of Imladris stroked his right hand reflectively, and the light of Vilya was visible for a fleeting moment.
"If he ever bore the Ring that was given to his forefather Durin, it had been taken from him," explained Gandalf. "But he spoke at length of his son, Thorin, and in the end, he gave me two items to safekeep: A map and a key, both of Erebor."
"One of the Seven Rings of the Dwarves?" intervened Saruman. "That is an important matter, Gandalf, and should not be simply dealt with in one short sentence. The lore of the Rings of Power is my speciality, and I deemed all Seven lost long ago. How can you be sure Thráin had one of them?"
"He spoke of it, in his madness," replied Gandalf. "Untouched it was by the Dark Lord, he kept saying. Given to the King of Khazâd-dûm by the Elf-smiths directly, not by Sauron. He seemed obsessed with it. In the end, he only found clarity when I mentioned his son. But eventually, his ramblings alerted the guards, and I had to flee without being able to rescue him."
"How then did you find proof of the necromancer's identity?" asked Elrond.
"Putting together the pieces seemed easy," answered Gandalf. "Raising the Dead is a feat no Man or Elf has ever achieved, in my knowledge. But tales from the First Age tell of Morgoth's lieutenant, Sauron, who used this ability to ensnare one of Barachír's companions into giving up the location of their secret hideout. And the tale of Thráin's ring gave me further confirmation, aside from chatter I overheard from the orcish guards, that spoke of the Great Master and his flaming Eye. It is Sauron, and he is collecting the rings. Never had I felt his presence so clearly, and I'm sure he was made aware of mine as well, when I fought my way out of the dungeons. I barely made it out, to be honest. And the pursuit through the reaches of Mirkwood up to the shores of the Anduin was relentless. Only within the sacred walls of the Golden Forest I was finally safe."

"And what do you make of all this?" asked Elrond carefully.
"We must make our move, and we must make it soon," said Gandalf. "The combined might of the Council may yet prove strong enough to defeat Sauron, or at least drive him from Dol Guldur. I deem it my duty to go back and free those who are kept in chains in the dungeons. It may be too late for Thráin, for I felt his death soon after my departure, but there are many others there that suffer under the whips of orcish slave-drivers. We must attack Dol Guldur!"

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