“We are the fighting Uruk-Hai! We are the servants of Saruman the Wise, The White Hand: The Hand that gives us man's-flesh to eat. We came out of Isengard!”
Smoke rises from the pits of Orthanc, black foulness that spirals endlessly into the sky. The fires of industry are at work, and their goal is the very destruction of the race of Man. Saruman the wise, the White Wizard – chief of the Order of Istari – has betrayed the White Council and all that is free in Middle Earth. Transparent now, his plans, for the deep study of Ring-Lore and the lethargy of the White Council’s movements against the Necromancer of Dol Guldur become apparent for what they are. The machinations of Saruman are revealed, and many will die for his treachery.
There is no idle adoration between the Mighty Olorin, Wizard of Many Colours, and The Great Eye but the wizard has used the Palantir of Orthanc, gazed upon the fully revealed power of Mordor and it’s allies, and done the only wise thing: he has joined with the Dark Lord, the revelation of which shall send shudders through the faith and security of all of the powers of the West. Commanded by his belief in what he does, Saruman commits the only traitorous act of his time as an Istari – to rebuild Isengard in the image of Mordor itself. Pits in the earth, the damming of the Entwash and forges of intense heat, fed by the useless wood of the forests that used to line Orthanc’s inner paths.
His eyes turn to farther regions; all is fuel for his fires, his new industry of war. All is fodder for the time of the Orc, to dominate through terror and with an iron fist. A new breed of Orc, standing taller, less bow-legged, stronger, faster and obedient to those with power, and loyal only to the one that bred them. Saruman’s Orcs, the savage ‘Fighting Uruk-Hai’ are even above the Black Uruks of Mordor. He has perfected the twisting of the creatures that Melkor stole and tortured ruinously in the pits of Utumno. The warriors of the White Hand are a match for Man at last, and the hated Sun does not scare them, merely making them simply unseasy in it’s undeniable way.
Alongside the savage Uruk-Hai, he has found others, whose hate of the Rohirrim is above his, more personal and historical - hatred more base than that of a studier of insects rolling in the filth. The Dunlendings, formerly wild lords of parts of Rohan, are his to summon as allies – Saruman’s half-truths and ignition of their belligerent nature has led to enough leverage, enough manipulation to gain allies that will fight on his side with as much hate as the Orcs muster. Saruman is a master of magic, and a master of the sly tongue. He has strange influence over others, and his powers stretch to gather in other servants – Crebain crows serve him now, and wild wolves of the north...all will bow to the White Hand, and Saruman will rival Sauron himself!
Rohan, the land of horse-sweat, is ripe for the taking, even with the strength it has, for they will expect nothing of what is planned. War with Rohan, however, is a means to an end, and will be accomplished by more than force of arms. The Hand of Orthanc is reaching far to secure its' wants and its' faithless needs. Fangorn forest will burn, and the fires of Isengard will reach across to destroy the world of man. The Elves are leaving, and man stands alone. It is time for Saruman to usher in the time of the Orc and the time of this Wizard of Many Colours!
Smoke rises from the pits of Orthanc, black foulness that spirals endlessly into the sky. The fires of industry are at work, and their goal is the very destruction of the race of Man. Saruman the wise, the White Wizard – chief of the Order of Istari – has betrayed the White Council and all that is free in Middle Earth. Transparent now, his plans, for the deep study of Ring-Lore and the lethargy of the White Council’s movements against the Necromancer of Dol Guldur become apparent for what they are. The machinations of Saruman are revealed, and many will die for his treachery.
There is no idle adoration between the Mighty Olorin, Wizard of Many Colours, and The Great Eye but the wizard has used the Palantir of Orthanc, gazed upon the fully revealed power of Mordor and it’s allies, and done the only wise thing: he has joined with the Dark Lord, the revelation of which shall send shudders through the faith and security of all of the powers of the West. Commanded by his belief in what he does, Saruman commits the only traitorous act of his time as an Istari – to rebuild Isengard in the image of Mordor itself. Pits in the earth, the damming of the Entwash and forges of intense heat, fed by the useless wood of the forests that used to line Orthanc’s inner paths.
His eyes turn to farther regions; all is fuel for his fires, his new industry of war. All is fodder for the time of the Orc, to dominate through terror and with an iron fist. A new breed of Orc, standing taller, less bow-legged, stronger, faster and obedient to those with power, and loyal only to the one that bred them. Saruman’s Orcs, the savage ‘Fighting Uruk-Hai’ are even above the Black Uruks of Mordor. He has perfected the twisting of the creatures that Melkor stole and tortured ruinously in the pits of Utumno. The warriors of the White Hand are a match for Man at last, and the hated Sun does not scare them, merely making them simply unseasy in it’s undeniable way.
Alongside the savage Uruk-Hai, he has found others, whose hate of the Rohirrim is above his, more personal and historical - hatred more base than that of a studier of insects rolling in the filth. The Dunlendings, formerly wild lords of parts of Rohan, are his to summon as allies – Saruman’s half-truths and ignition of their belligerent nature has led to enough leverage, enough manipulation to gain allies that will fight on his side with as much hate as the Orcs muster. Saruman is a master of magic, and a master of the sly tongue. He has strange influence over others, and his powers stretch to gather in other servants – Crebain crows serve him now, and wild wolves of the north...all will bow to the White Hand, and Saruman will rival Sauron himself!
Rohan, the land of horse-sweat, is ripe for the taking, even with the strength it has, for they will expect nothing of what is planned. War with Rohan, however, is a means to an end, and will be accomplished by more than force of arms. The Hand of Orthanc is reaching far to secure its' wants and its' faithless needs. Fangorn forest will burn, and the fires of Isengard will reach across to destroy the world of man. The Elves are leaving, and man stands alone. It is time for Saruman to usher in the time of the Orc and the time of this Wizard of Many Colours!