Of all of those I trusted, I perhaps trusted Mandos the most. Rather ironic, given I spoke of casting him down, but of course this was only for the sake of exaggeration to our enemies. Mandos was our trusted Leader. Perhaps not all of the team, but to myself, he was a friend. So to hear, after a missed meeting where we might find ourselves in a meeting after our sacrifice in his own name, I expected a welcoming return.

Therefore, it is quite understandable that when I learned of his turning, physically, from Darkness to Light, I was most grieved. Our messiah when Aule had us cornered. Our beacon of hope in the void of which he resided in. How could he? How could he turn from us, after all we have done in his name alone? It was his name we bore when we veraciously threw ourselves at the Stone Masons, when it seemed all was lost to the great enemy Aule. It was after I heard of this physical turning that it clicked.

His own weapon, the weapon he had promised to use in our favor and in ours his, he gave to Pythas. Pythas, who could not win over Aule. Pythas, who I once regarded as an astonishing menace. It is now my eyes are open. Ancalagon, they are all so afraid of Ancalagon. What do I care of Ancalagon? If death befalls me, so be it, but I will first strike down my enemy so that he may meet a similar fate.

Continually as I pace in the great stone workings of what I had once decided to destroy, I curse the names of first Aule, second Pythas, and thirdly, with great sorrow, Namo. What hope have we evil ones now? What is our place in the face Ancalagon? I am the only remaining Evil Lead. Commander of the Black Tower. How it angered me so to watch as Melody, the staggered, pestilent witch roam the halls I call home and gift to Accal, our enemy, a bed to sleep, a place to hang his armor, and food to feast. Where is our reward? Where may I hang my armor? Where may I sleep, other than the cold floors of the barracks. Where may the common evil feast?

Now we lay in lamentation. What am I to do? I am no God. I am no Knight. I know evil, I know ambition, I know perseverance and I know voice. It was Fable's vision, a White Mandos. I pondered why Irmo, who I had spoken to, did not resemble this vision. But never, never did I consider this possibility. I am beyond infuriation. I am beyond anguish. How very blessed are those who speak against us. We were never "Evil". They are as evil as we. Who of us has not fallen short? They speak to us, be humbled. But I ask you, are we not already humble? For long we have endured our painful conditions. We were dealt a poor hand. To Accal, who can with ease speak to his Mother and Father, dares to say we are simply in search of power and nothing more.

I have no recognition of my mother other than her name. I have no contact with my father, and have only what he left behind. Including myself. I was left to die. To find some way to survive in a world that wronged me. One of us is a vulture. The child born from birds. And they spit on her. How can you spite us for simply existing? It was not she that chose to be born. One of us has no remembrance of family other than that they were slain by him. But from his stories I can tell you, his reasoning was rather proper. And what of our allies, a friend I have walked with in the days where it was Raymond that held a blade to our throats. What of the flames, whos bond is unbreakable, but is persistently told to break? Who is anyone to work with the slayer of their own mother. Who is to name them "offspring of Melkor"? Who is Accal to call himself humble, when in a time of need, when the lady of flames cry out to him, begging for freedom from his wicked father, to ignore her to death?

I care not for Ancalagon. Were Ancalagons flames to surround me, would it be any different from Drogoth, who's flames I have also felt and barely survived? Perhaps different from Melkor, who would kindly rid of us, those that made him who he was, and destroy us with all others? I can do nothing to Ancalagon, and I firmly believe Ancalagon's target is not I. Personally, I hope within my soul that it is Pythas that falls first to Ancalagon. Aule second.

All of this said to say this; Barad Dur is claimed property of Alatar, Commander of the Black Tower, and all members of the Black Tower. Not in the name of Pythas, nor of Mandos, nor of Aule. Prophets will call me evil. The Empire will call me foolish. But my people call me Alatar. Engrave the appellation "Alatar Midnight Silvertongue Istar" into the gates I once defended. Have paintings of our denomination in the gallery I once gazed upon. Perhaps even Pythas will come out of hiding to defend his residence. After all, I'm doomed to die by the Dragon we are all losing our minds over, so why not have a bit of fun before I meet my fate?

We're all going to hell. Might as well bide your time before your arrival.
Alatar Midnight Silvertongue Istar
Dark Wizlock, Commander of the Black Tower

* I was in fact lied to. My reaction was bitter. All statements on Mandos' name have been retracted as his betrayal was in fact false.

*I retract these statements about Mandos, as it was none other than the Stone Masons toying with me.