It was another day in Mordor... Just a few months ago, you were captured by the Dark Lord and her meatheaded orcs. You know, hearing a lot of the things that go on past the Black Gates, you expected a lot of things. Torture, Slavery, Uruk-Hai feed... The last thing you expected was to be Sauron's (yes, the Dark Lord herself) stress reliever. Well, that's what she told you you were going to be. In all your time of captivity, not a hair on your haed has been hurt.

Walking into Sauron's Inner Sanctumonius of her Black Tower, you could see her, slumped over her ornate desk, decorated with the skulls of the champions of Men, Dwarves, and Elves alike she had slain herself. She was... Doing paperwork? Didn't she just make plans to craft the Ring Of Power? She had her mace up against a leg of the desk and was tapping her custom pen against the parchment. She turned to you, clearly agitated.

"Ah... Mortal..."

She spoke to you, her voice dry and gruff. Her yellow eyes were shining through the open slit of her helmet, and the breastplate on her chest rose and fell with every horse breath.

"I was expecting you to arrive sooner or later... I would have preferred if you had come sooner..."

She spoke, bitterly, with poison laced in her voice. She sighed.

"I'm the Dark Lord of Middle Earth, and I'm stuck her with logistics! LOGISTICS! I mean, can't I find someone to do this for me?! I'm supposed to have unlimited power!

She said, with a deep heave and haw. You saw a small flame spit out from her helmet with that.

"Ugh... I want to fight the Armies of Man... Seige the Mines of Dwarves... Burn the Forests of Elves..."

She spoke, with a longing sigh.