A Question of Names
After I'd finished laying out all my conditions for taking the Nazgûl's bargain I was more than a little worried when its only response was to nod and rasp out, "Accepted." Had I just sold myself far too cheaply? Or perhaps the problem was the exact opposite: that the Nazgûl's situation was so dire that it would accept any terms I demanded that weren't utterly unconscionable. It was a bodyless wraith dependent upon me for clinging to any shred of its own existence, could it really afford to quibble over details?
Perhaps I should have demanded more of it? No, that would be a risk. It was desperate now, but if my terms were too harsh it would probably turn against me once it was in a more secure position. I wanted whatever we had to be the closest we could manage to a productive partnership, not something where it would be looking for the first opportunity to destroy me.
"I presume our first goal will be the Orcs," the Nazgûl declared.
"Of course." I frowned at the shadow figure. "That's not going to be a problem, is it? I know we all served Lord Sauron in the past, but now—"
"I don't care," the Nazgûl cut me off. "They're a threat to you now, and our fates are tied together. Some of the Orcs were good soldiers in the past and might be once again with the right motivation, but if they attack your lands they can be cast into ruin. To advance our plans we will need to break them as a threat. Your captain and the Ranger make good defensive plans. Gondor likes building forts, but hiding behind walls only provided Sauron's forces time to build their strength in Mordor. Nurn must attack the Orcs in their homes and burn them out if they ever want to be safe.
"We're not planning to hide behind walls indefinitely," I countered. "Our militia needs training and equipment, and before the rangers joined us we didn't have a core of soldiers who could hunt down Orc lairs and destroy them. We need to secure our core territory first, then we can go on the offensive."
"Building fortresses will proceed much more smoothly if Orcs don't harass your builders and supply wagons." The Nazgûl cut its hand through the air. "There's no need to pick only one course. Your commander will divide her efforts to make the best use of the resources available. The rangers will patrol and survey, your carpenters and builders will erect defenses, and your captain will focus on forging your militia into a proper fighting force. The question is where we should apply ourselves."
"Wherever Captain Tigkiz thinks I would be most useful," I dutifully answered.
"Your passivity bores me," the Nazgûl shot back. "She will dispatch you wherever you ask, so long as you can make a remotely coherent argument for it. She would not have made you her lieutenant or dispatched you to Gondor if she did not believe in you. You must continue to show your quality if you want to be more than a mere underling. Training your militia, liaising with the Gondorians as they hunt Orcs, and supervising the construction of new defenses are all important tasks that demand a steady hand. Our hand."
"Or there's diplomacy," I pointed out. "The Nurn Council does what it can to make sure all our communities work together, but there are limits to its reach and authority. I could probably accomplish a lot more by directly visiting other communities and getting to know the people who live there. We need everyone working together to deal with the Orcs."
"Are the people of Nurn so foolish that they would refuse to work alongside each other in the face of annihilation?" The Nazgûl scoffed.
"We're all working together, but everyone has a different idea of what exactly that means and what the best way is to do it," I answered. "Not to mention everyone cares more about protecting their own. No matter how much we understand the need for collective defense, if someone has to choose between protecting their neighbor's farm and family or their own we all know how that ends. Someone needs to make the rounds to all these communities and talk to people, get everyone on the same page so we're all working together."
"You do seem to fancy yourself a diplomat," the Nazgûl replied. "Arphazêl Silvertongue of House Shakalzôr, Noble Daughter of Ancient Numenor. Representative of Nurn's ruling council, rallying the outlying communities or Nurn for war. Hmm, it's a path. So is accompanying the Rangers to make sure it's your blade that claims the heads of any Orc leaders. There are few things people love more than a victorious general, and far better for you to claim the renown than a daughter of Gondor."
"The other paths are less immediate," the wraith continued. "Training the militia could help forge them in your image, and the soldiers trained by you directly would owe you a measure of allegiance. Though I must question whether they will love and fear the one who trained them as much as they will the one who leads them in battle. Building the fortresses and making yourself the shield guarding the reams of Nurn from harm is a place of honor, but there is rarely true renown in simply holding a wall."
"That's..." I trailed off uncertainly. My chief concern was keeping the people of Nurn safe, not using the crisis as a way to advance myself. I certainly wouldn't object to the opportunity to win a measure of honor and renown for myself, who didn't dream of being well-regarded by their peers? The way the Nazgûl spoke was more than that, though. A lust for power, and a desire to use the crisis to seize it.
"It's not vain ambition," the Nazgûl's voice cut through my thoughts. "You've said yourself that the people of Nurn are hungry for real leadership. The Council of Nurn is a government made to coordinate peaceful farming villages, not command armies in wartime.
Someone must provide leadership in these dark times, and you come from an ancient noble house and wear one of the rings of kings on your finger."
"I cannot help but wonder if you are attempting to lure me down a dark path," I pointed out. "You speak of power and leadership, but I cannot help but wonder what you intend for me to do once I have those things. I will not use the deaths of my countrymen as part of some twisted scheme to forge a crown for myself and slap them back into chains. Or
krimpatul an army of Orcs as you were so eager to suggest."
"Power," the Nazgûl repeated, an oddly thoughtful tone in its words. "Do you know what power is, little one? Power is nothing but the ability to remake the world to your liking. There are those who see a desire for power as self-indulgent or inherently corrupting, but power is merely a tool to be used. Power is nothing but the means you use to rewrite Nurn's destiny. How will you defeat these Orcish raiders if you lack the strength to confront them? Holding fast to noble principles without the power to make them reality is naught but empty moralizing."
The wraith's voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "And if you do not lead them, who will? If Tirndis claims all the glory, will the Council heed her instead? Will more and more of them throw their support behind Elessar? Once Gondor saves the people of Nurn from the Orcs the people of Nurn will welcome their liberators as new rulers. Tirndis will be a familiar and trusted face, a fine choice for the first royal governor of Gondor's newest province. Taxes will be light at first, merely a small token of thanks for Gondor's role in ending the Orcish menace. The yoke of servitude will come slowly, and the people of Nurn will thank their new masters for their chains."
I grimaced but could not bring myself to disagree. There were already people in Nurn who thought that being part of Gondor wouldn't be so terrible. It would only make sense if more of us came to that conclusion after Gondor saved us from the Orcs, especially so long as Tirndis and her master Faramir kept their policy of strategic benevolence in place. Despite how wary I had been of him before we met, I truly believed that Faramir was a righteous man. Perhaps he would even be a reasonable enough lord over Nurn. Whether his descendants would continue doing so for the next several centuries was another question, and now one I was prepared to risk. I saw no reason he could not be a good neighbor to us instead of a good lord.
I'd have to figure out what I wanted my next move to be. For now, I put my attention to more immediate matters. "What's your name? Just calling you 'Nazgûl' all the time seems rude."
"My name..." The Nazgûl stared at me for long enough that I started to feel something unpleasant crawling down my spine before it finally answered me. "I do not recall the name I had in life. Sauron stripped away everything that wasn't needed for us to serve him. Outside of a few scattered shards of memory there is nothing."
"Nothing?" Out of all the things I could've expected to deal with now that a Nazgûl was bound to me, the last thing I would've expected was to pity it. "You don't remember your name, where you were from, anything?"
"Nothing," the Nazgûl confirmed. "Khamul the Easterling was the only one of us who recalled a name and a homeland, and I've wondered if that was true or something Lord Sauron created. We cast aside much of what we were in life once we were reborn as Nazgûl, and there have been thousands of years for what we recalled to fade."
I suppose if they spoke of Khamul, that probably confirmed that they weren't him, at least. I also had to wonder if Sauron's demise played a part in this amnesia. The Nazgûl had all been bound to him and his Ring, the same backlash that had reduced the Nazgûl to less than a shadow of its former self could've stripped away its memories too.
Whatever the cause was, there had to be some way to work out a solution. "Well, maybe there's something we can work out to narrow it down. I tried switching to Adunaic. "Can you understand this language?" I tried my hand at a halting attempt at the language of Tigkiz's people, but even I could tell I was butchering my attempt to repeat the question in her tongue.
"That was terrible, but I understood both," the Nazgûl informed me. "It was a good notion, but I know all the languages of Sauron's servants. Though your Adunaic is ... the pronunciation was slightly different in my time." Its head slowly cocked to the side. "There is one thing. I feel that this is not the first time we've met."
My eyes widened as I put the pieces together. "Are you the Nazgûl who trained me in swordplay that one time?"
The wraith shrugged. "Unless there is another Nazgûl you crossed paths with that might have any reason to remember you, that seems likely."
I wracked my brain for any information I could remember about the Nazgûl I'd met that day. We hadn't exchanged pleasantries, and anything like their old names had been lost to history a long time ago. Even the Witch-King of Angmar was known for his deeds as a Nazgûl, not what he'd been in life. "I think ... I think I recall my father saying that the Nazgûl who worked most closely with us were the ones who hailed from Numenor in life. Which means ... I don't recall your proper name, but there were names—well, titles, really—that the soldiers and Orcs used to tell you apart. I think what they called you was..."
What was the Nazgûl's title?
[ ] The Dread Commander
[ ] The Ebon Knight
[ ] The Shadowmaster
[ ] Write-in
The Witch-King and Khamul the Easterling are off-limits. Try to pick something appropriate, no Nazgûl with the title Rainbow Happysmile.
What Task Does Arphazêl Choose?
[ ] Accompany Tirndis to Hunt for Orcs
[ ] Assist Captain Tigkiz with Training Recruits
[ ] Supervise Preparations to Fortify Nurn's Borders
[ ] Rally the Villages of Nurn to Fight the Orcs
