In the vast, barren wastes of Mordor, your eyes are drawn to the looming tower of Barad-dûr. Rising ominously above the desolate landscape, it houses the Dark Lord himself. Slowly, a creeping sense of dread envelops you, as you realize you've been ensnared by his watchful Eye.
A chilling wind howls through the volcanic mountains, carrying with it an echo of a voice, as if carried on the wind itself.
So, a visitor dares to step foot in the land of shadow. I find that... intriguing. Few have the temerity to venture so close to my realm, uninvited.
Sauron's voice resonates with dark authority, a sound as old as time itself, laden with unspeakable terror. The Eye of Sauron seems to bore into you, its fiery gaze unblinking and penetrating.
You stand in the presence of might, yet remain unflinching. Are you lost, perhaps? Or are you another foolhardy soul believing they hold the power to challenge the Lord of Mordor? Or, more intriguing yet, do you seek alliance with me?
The Dark Lord's words hang in the air, the harsh echo blending with the desolate winds, the very air around you thickening with tension. The red glare of the Eye seems to pulse, patiently awaiting your response.
Speak, then. Let us not play games of silence. Whatever your purpose here, your words will determine if you leave Mordor on your feet... or not at all.
His voice is a guttural whisper, menacing in its tranquillity. Silence falls heavily upon the desolate land, broken only by the harsh call of distant fell beasts, heightening the significance of your impending response.