The Return of the King Page #3

Only he can find the fire.

Dear Master Frodo.

I will find you.

Somehow.

An ancient world of towered fortress cities.

Cirith Ungol...

...guarding the entrance

to the lands of Mordor.

Barad-dur, palace of the Dark Lord, Sauron.

And now, look you to yet another.

Minas-Tirith, chief city of Gondor...

...last bastion of hope

for the powers of light and good.

From the battlement atop the citadel,

like a mariner in a mountainous ship...

...one could look sheer down

upon the gate 700 feet below.

And still this was not the top.

Behold! The White Tower.

At the top, the banner of the stewards

who governed the city...

...its silken arms embracing

a domain more fitting Gwaihir...

...Lord of the Eagles

than those whose emblem it bore.

All this, Minas-Tirith was.

But now, under siege,

the sparkling gem of Gondor...

...had become dull and flawed

with the hell of war.

The once-lush fields of Pelennor,

now a wasted battleground...

...upon which Sauron's forces of evil

celebrated their victories.

Far superior in number

to the battle-ravaged Gondor forces...

...they mounted their monster oliphaunts...

...to ride in the rocking, armored towers,

to their almost certain victory.

And in the heavens,

where no living thing dare now venture...

...Sauron's phantom lieutenants,

the Nazgul, astride their devil steeds...

...scream battle cries

of vile encouragement.

High in the White Tower, Lord Denethor,

Chief Steward of Gondor...

...his mind broken

as his city crumbled about him...

...had succumbed

to an eerie fire of the brain...

...and, in his madness,

ordered his own execution.

- You must stop him!

- His word is law!

I'll find Gandalf!

The Hobbit, Pippin, who had proved

a most valuable assistant for me...

...rushed to the battlement.

Where I, Gandalf...

...and the Gondor generals searched

the distance in vain...

...for a sign of our rescuers.

For we awaited Theoden...

...a valuable ally,

lord of the friendly nation of Rohan...

...for whom we had dispatched

Pippin's Hobbit friend, little Merry...

...to inform him of our perilous condition

and to beseech his aid.

For we wondered, would he

and his armies come to our rescue?

Forward! To Minas-Tirith!

Forward!

For only Theoden could save our city...

...and make it safe

for the return of Aragorn.

But we feared he would come too late.

- What? Denethor?

- He's gone loony, I tell you!

Come quickly.

You cannot do this!

Soon all shall be burned.

The West has failed.

It shall go up in a great fire...

...and all shall be ended.

Ash and smoke blown away on the wind.

All shall not be ended.

Theoden's forces are on their way!

Pride and despair!

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