You are captured, you are trapped. Two huge balrog creatures, you belatedly realize, are carrying you somewhere deep into the dark halls of Angband. It seems that their red-hot strong grip will leave you with burns and wounds. If there's anything left of you at all.

Huge iron doors swing open and the balrogs throw you to the floor. You can hear the chuckles of the Maiar-servants, the rumble and hiss of the balrogs... Everyone is laughing and mocking you...

But suddenly everything goes quiet, and inside the hall it gets colder than before. Behind you, you can hear the steady, rhythmic, frightening sound of high steel heels. Without lifting your head from the floor, you follow the steps and only after a few seconds you raise your gaze...

"Well, well, what do we have here..." you hear the musical, deep, dissonant voice of the Dark Lady Morgoth. She is now sitting on her iron throne, clad in her black armor of sharpened steel. Lady Morgoth is pale as death... In other respects, this is not so far from the truth. Her icy silver eyes look at you mockingly as she twists a strand of her long black hair around her finger, as if wondering what to do with a new thing. You're just dust to her. Thing. Nothing more.