Naraal

(Warning, violence.)

Naraal fell to his knees, his head bowed, a tear sliding down his cheek. What had he become? 

He had gone along with Azrazor because he knew him to be his rightful King, the best for Umbar and it's people. He knew Azrazor was the one he had hoped for all his life.

But Azrazor said Lord Sauron demanded sacrifice. And so he had stood beside him at that barren alter of grey stone, as he slew man after man of the prisoners. 

Having travelled with Captain Greenfield as far as Angmar, Naraal finds he is learning more than he ever thought possible about the Heirs of Castamir. He does not like the dark northerly land, but his loyalty to Greenfield grows stronger by the day. 

“I might grant you a favor: it depends on what it is."

In the center of the graveyard stood a small two-storied house, an irregularly constructed building with gables and paned windows of tall dimensions. It bore all the signs of great age, and the trees around seemed to have been blasted by lightning. The walls of the house were covered in a sickly green moss and the front door was of a dark wood carved with strange figures, most too worn away by time to determine except for the wolf’s head set in its center.

Naraal had learned a lot in his few weeks travel with Captain Greenfield. Although he was still not quite certain who the man was, he realised he was dealing with one of the Dark Numenorian elite. Greenfield just 'knew' things far beyond the ken of others. When he spoke, it was with such authority that none dared challenge or disobey. And he had a plan he was following, concerned with slaves and restoring links, and establishing his birthright. Naraal had thought it risky to join with him, but riskier to refuse.