The feared Iron Crown looked down on his prisoners from his steel-armored stallion. His judgment was a life or death, hell or seeing back the lovely plains of Arnor, and to return to the White City of the West, Annumínas.
He noticed one cloacked man with a bow over his shoulder looking at him with his brown eyes, challenging. Before the Witch-King could reply, his left-hand, also a Nazgul, impaled him with his Morgul-Sword. The man fell down to the Earth.
A black swordsman walked to the prisoners and shouted with a loud and careless voice; ''You will be put to El-Murazors, The Iron Crown, the Witch-King and destroyer of Arnor's mercy! Some of you will live, others will serve him until the end of times!''
The Black Numenorean turned to him, looking questioning.
''Killl.. theeem.. and leave.. none alive..''
Then he rode forward and slashes with his sword one of the heads off.
The other Orcs did exactly the same.
They all turned to the place where they came for.
The great king of the Frozen North rode forward, turning to the army, siege ladders, ballista's and wolf cavalry, all waiting eagerly.
''Today.. WE SHALL SHOW THEM THE TRUE MEANING OF FEAR!'' he shouted, his voice filled with dread and hate, and his voice elevated. ''NUMENOREANS, ORCS, TROLLS, BEASTMEN! GIVE THEM WHAT THEY GAVE YOU, GIVE THEM DEATH!''
''FORWARD, NOW, FORWARD AND TURN THIS CITY INTO BARREN ASHES!''
Everyone stormed forward, and the Arnorian Archers were paralyzed with fear.
Only Er-Murazor was left behind.
''We shall give them after we're finished....''
''The Legacy of the Damned.'', then he charged.
OOC: Just did this for fun, lawlz.