GANDALF: ''Chief of the Wise, there is no intention to bring malaise or false accusations to the sanctity of this honourable assembly, yet the hour is of the utmost note for us and the issue of all seems everyday to get graver in entity. This is a fact that we cannot deny for sure, unless the very truth is at peril and lies begin to be spread even among the noble members of this council. Isn't it? And my peregrinations, in which I have hitherto put and in good will poured all my effort, were in no case wasted time, Saruman. This I can admit and assess without doubt or second thoughts of any sort. Therefore, I hope our concerns will not be dismissed so much easily, by the wise guide who is instead supposed to lead us in the just direction. The Evil within that fortress can only grow stronger and more hideous as time passes and as stars complete their cycles in the sidereal void of Eä. It is an inevitable of a fate and a predictable destiny, for all dark forces have not shown a different behaviour so far, and, as the wiseman knows well, things tend to repeat and history is much likely to start going round as a wheel, presenting again already-seen schemes and dynamics to which we should be, at this time, very much acquainted. You may also pardon my tone, but I strongly believe that one must be convinced, that the illness must be uprooted quickly and with the fiercest resolve it ought to be vanquished for the good, lest a mistake might cause an unpredictable escalation of events. And the past has vividly shown us how mistakes are not very easily forgiven in this world.
You ask for proofs and evidences, and I shall provide you with what you need know. I shall narrate the foul encounter that befell in the eerie dungeons of Dol Guldur. Not a simple stronghold of common fashion, as some have said, nor a tomb filled with ruins and remnants which Middle-earth would gladly do without. No, my Lord, that is a lair and a prison! A gaol for every free soul and torture even for the most resilient mind. Forgotten by the present, cursed and inhabited by demons of a wide-ranging kind. This is what one will find there; no less, no more. And I had already entered those somber gates once, almost a millennium ago, when that very fortress had attracted by attention for not specified reasons, and I had then headed there, while I sensed that the great force that had set me on that path was escaping from my sight. But, suffice it to say that a presence dwelt in that stronghold, and of this fact I could not be more certain. Unto my last coming to Dol Guldur, months ago. Something I shall never forget, nor will the experience of such a dramatic meeting ever become a dim remembrance of mine, given that I contested the very Evil that night, fending off the danger and managing to flee from that disgraceful place. All started with curiosity and the mission to make a thorough enquiry into the secret of those marred woods, as the murmurs of the people living in the surroundings have become too loud to be exactly defined as a feeble request for aid; it was rather a cry of desperation and sorrow, caused by the horrid transformation of those one-time green forests into obscure ways infested by snares and terrible beasts. How could I have ignored that plea? How could I have denied the sound logic and sincere reason of the Lady of Lothlórien, whose far-sighted knowledge is well renowned across the shires of the continent? I couldn't have. Simple and plain. Hence, disguised and veiled by a spell which prevented hostile eyes from realising that I had arrived, I was into the wolf's lair, and all seemed strange and very much uncanny at the first sight. Because, as I had passed unscathed the road up to the ruined castle, there was no need to worry about secrecy anymore, once I found myself in front of those robust gates. Everything was still and those remnants seemed to have been left untouched by any living force, if not for the action of time that moulded shapes and stone rendered dust; no one was there to patrol. No vigilant guard, nor legions or our unknown enemy unmasked. Silence reigned supreme and was pervasive all over the place. And after a quick inspection, I thus made the most tragic of the discoveries: a Dwarven lord, made weary by the ongoing flow of days and led to madness by means of torture. He was on the verge of death, but he nonetheless recognised me at the last moment, and I did then have the possibility to know something more of his unfortunate story. Yes, one of the Seven Lords he was, and of one of the Seven Rings he had been the mighty bearer; yet his Ring of Power was no more, snatched away from his possession and hewn out of his mauled finger. Doubt thus took me, whilst living force was abandoning the royal Dwarf, and dread began to cloud my mind and I eventually got to grips with the real risk I was to face; my life in serious jeopardy. Even though the hazardous situation I had put myself into didn't refrain me from completing the task, as to what concerned the very sake of Middle-earth. My mouth therefore started speaking spells, in order to lift that treacherous concealment that kept the fortress hidden and seeking to unearth the true identity of that malicious source. All of a sudden, packs of wolves and legions of hideous Orcs surrounded me, aimed to cage me in the deepest dungeon and to halt my imperative mission; my magic was too powerful for them to stay on my way, however, and so it followed that I was very close to leaving that disgraceful place and reaching safety in the outer vastness of the woods. Only, it was at that time that the mysterious sorcerer came forth, with no physical fashion nor a humanoid visage. He was just a wide and thick mist of malice, dark as the night and lacking even the smallest gleam of light. Indeterminate was his shape, but not his will and evil purposes, as his thoughts ran wild along the mazes of my mind. Resurgence, vengeance and the domination of all forms of life in this world. And then the battle had beginning, the fight between our two essences. Light against sheer darkness. At the heated second of the confrontation, his shape shifted and revealed a new figure veiled by fire, resembling a fiery lidless eye which always stands on the alert and yearns the object of its obsession with unceasing desire. And my forces were waning and defeat seemed to be my very next future, until Hope rekindled my heart and gave me strength once more, so that I was able to repel the foe for a moment and get out safe from Dol Guldur.
I am here, now, blessed by events and with the firm resolution to end this threat, for I withstood the foulest enemy of all in that fortress: Sauron, the revenant Dark Lord, who intends to drag this continent to another war and renewed darkness. This time, for our great misfortune, the grand kingdom of Men is suffering from stagnating inertia and the absence of the solely legitimate heir to the throne, alongside the valiant Noldor of the West having departed in large number from these mortal shores. In this state of generalised weakness and idleness, Saruman, it is not necessary for him to regain the tenure of his Ruling Ring, since his powers are destined to be broadened by terror and magical arts, as he's recollecting what was once lost. If we do not act, in less than 200 years Middle-earth might be under the cruel and ruthless rule of the Lord of the Rings, whether the One Ring will have ultimately been retrieved or not.''