Extra Story: Convocare

(gahladriel)

This is something that could be viewed either as a fanfic about the RPG or a thread about Convocare. For all who aren't here when our second favorite wizard (Gandalf is first, of course) was around, Convocare is one of the resident bad guys in here. You can read about the other wicked stuff he'd done in the storyline.

Since I'm the one who wrote this fic and not Adam a.k.a. Morgoth Vala (who made Convocare), my version of him might not be faithful to what Adam intended of him. But then again, Adam is not here so I might get away with this.

In the cold and piercing light of the morning sun, a wave of horrible anguished screams reverberated around the plains of the Northern Wastes where a solitary fortress was standing, indifferent to the harshness of the land where it stood. Partially muffled by the thick walls, the screams could be traced downward to the lowest bowels of the gray structure, in the dark, wet dungeons of the keep.

"AAAAAGGGHHH!"

Once proud and arrogant, the captain of the soldiers now hangs on a chain, bloody and broken. Tears coming out of his once proud eyes, he pleaded once more, but knowing full well what his fate is going to be.

"I beg of you, sire! Another chance--"

"I am weary of your pathetic voice", a cold voice said mildly from a figure sitting in the darkest corner of the room. Standing up, he crossed the room towards the door. He suddenly stopped and looked at a soldier standing rigidly by the dungeon's door.

"Eliminate him. And oh, by the way", he smirked at the officer, "congratulations on your promotion, *captain*."

"Tha-thank you, sire," the new captain of the soldiers replied, looking very unhappy that he had become the next target of this man's ire.

The morning light filtered down on Concovare the wizard as he strode on left wing corridor of the topmost level of the keep-- the wing where the lord of the citadel dwells. He met a couple of gossiping servants whose conversation died as they saw the dark figure passing opposite them. They lowered their eyes and quickened their pace, but the wizard barely glanced over them.

He has more important thoughts swirling through his mind, something vastly disturbing, something that could very well concern the fate of Middle-Earth. It touches on many things, sometimes on a certain special hobbit, sometimes on the other people with that hobbit like the gray wizard who was "killed" near Moria, on a distant land where an evil power dwells, or on the war that shall decide on the future of the land.

But curiously, his mind dwelt far more often on a curious group of people who are on their way down to the land of Lorien. This group is the same reason the wizard is now about to enter the innermost chamber of the lord of the keep. A guard standing on the doorway nervously raised his hand to stop the wizard.

"T-the lord cannot see you right now, sire. Please wai---"

The guard hasn't even finished talking when a strange unseen force grabbed him by the throat, choking him.

"How dare you order me, you imprudent fool!"

The unseen force then threw the poor man to the other side of the antechamber where after crashing to the wall, he slid down and stayed still.

Concovare briefly touched the large, heavy doors of the chamber and it opened soundlessly. Though it was now morning, the curtains were drawn and numerous candles dimly lighted the huge chamber. The air was almost suffocating--the smoke from the candle mingling with the aroma of incense and some exotic drugs that Convocare knew the lord is using lately. Though tasteful, most of the things in the room are quite costly, unique and gilded in gold, silver or mithril. But the focal point of the room is the enormous bedstead where, behind the silk veil hanging from it, sounds of seductive giggling and the rumble of male laughter were heard which suddenly stopped.

"Tsk, tsk, Convocare. When can you learn how to be discreet and courteous? Ah, you want to join us, yes?"

The shrill giggles were yet again heard and Convocare longed to blast the bed, with all its occupants to bits. Yet he did not, for the man may still prove to be useful for the wizard’s agenda.

"Lord Surion, the soldiers have failed to recapture the escapees and their new friends."

"WHAT!?"

The veils were roughly yanked away and the man in it said coldly to his bedmates, "You two, get out now."

The girls, knowing that they must hurry now for their lives, grabbed their clothes from the floor and holding it against their naked bodies, rushed out of the chamber.

As soon as the thud of the doors closing were heard, Lord Surion stood up from the bed. Naked, he grabbed his silk robe from the bed table and put them on. Stalking to the windows, he drew the heavy curtains open. Sunlight sifted in, bathing the handsome man in yellow light.

Lord Surion is indeed, one of the most beautiful being the wizard had ever seen. He can almost be mistaken for an Eldar, except that he has none of the characteristics of the elven race. From the tip of his long raven hair, to the end of his finely sculptured body, he looked like a man of about twenty years of age. Convocare smirked inwardly. Yes, looks can very deceiving where he is concerned. The only outward hint of Lord Surion’s malevolent psyche is his exquisite yet dull violet eyes where one can see the malice reflected from within. But at that moment, hate and evil now fill those eyes.

"Those incompetent idiots! You have of course dealt with their insubordination?"

"Those involved in the mission have been discharged uhh, rather painfullly," Convocare replied, but inwardly he sneered.

It’s also your fault, you imbecile, for underestimating them, Convocare thought. The wizard had learned, a very long time ago, not to take anyone at face value. Indeed, the most insignificant hobbit may well in fact be the bearer of the most powerful magical device in all of Middle-Earth.

"This cannot be tolerated at all!" Turning around to face the wizard, Lord Surion said mockingly, "Surely, the great wizard Convocare have a plan, haven’t you, sire?"

Convocare said blandly, "But of course, milord. I just humbly ask of you for patience to see what shall happen next."

Without waiting for Lord Surion’s reply, the wizard whirled around and walked out of chamber, away from the enraged lord.

Fools! Every one of them! Must I do everything myself?!

The seething wizard thought as he climbed down the winding flight to his laboratory. Upon entering, light issued from all corners of the large room. The wizard liked it that way, for many his "experiments" are quite hazardous if he even makes the slightest bit of error in doing them. But for now he walked past them, pass the artifacts on the shelves and the curious objects lying on the shelves.

Stopping in front of an old wooden compartment, he took from it a wide, shallow receptacle. Placing it on a table, he then filled it up to the brim with a strange black water. After muttering something in Quenya, the dark, placid water became agitated. Then it suddenly calmed again, but now a strange white light emanated from it. The light divided into different colors and an image became reflected on the liquid, from being blurry becoming clearer and cleared until it showed a group of people camping in an unknown forest.

"Well, the least I could do is make some breakfast."

For weeks now after prisoners had escaped the keep, the wizard had been calm which made the lord of the keep, Lord Surion, quite nervous. Concovare grinned. Surion never really know the depths of my powers, the wizard sneered. That stupid man.

".....There should be enough to last us through Mirkwood."

The wizard had been keeping tracks of the group. He saw them when they met that naive elf, Glorielin, was it? When he saw them meet the other elf Elenluin, Convocare had become slightly more concerned. He felt that those two elves have some power of vision as with, the wizard knew, that some of the Elven-kind can have. But Convocare had been very careful to screen his magic from theirs such that unless they have such power as that grey fool or that lady in Lorien have, they will never know they had been watched for some time now.

And then Surion's good-for-nothing soldiers failed to capture that other one, Enuvien and even let him join with the rest of the prisoners! Imbeciles! He knew that he had to personally act on this problem before the group can go to Lorien, for he know that Galadriel had made a girdle around Lorien that blocks out any other magic besides hers.

"Don't worry. I feel better than I have in years. I feel I could run to Mordor and back."

But the wizard calmed himself. He had already thought of an answer for this problem last night, when he watched them talked about which path to take to Lorien. And now, the wizard grinned, is the time to act on this solution.

In some secret depths of the forest of Mirkwood, there are mysterious terrors that few of the free folks had even seen. Or if they had seen them, they never live to tell their tale to others. Such is the reason why the name of the once peaceful forest had been changed from "Greenwood the Great" into the forbidding "Mirkwood".

One of these terrors is that of the great spiders. It had been said that when the Dark Lord had dwelt in Dol Guldor, some of the great spiders of Mordor had moved to Mirkwood and thrived there, increasing their strength and power while Sauron increased his own. This, of course, cannot be proven, since no one dare confirm such rumor for the fear that they might found themselves in either the dungeons of Mordor or much worse, in the bellies of the foul beasts.

As with those found in the hidden caves of Ephel Duath, the great spiders of Mirkwood also prefer to dwell in the darkest corners of their lairs, where their prey might stumble in confusion. But unlike their mother, Shelob, the spiders in Mirkwood relishes to stalk their prey, like the proverbial cat who plays with the unfortunate mouse, its would-be dinner. Though they are weaker and smaller than their Mordor counterparts, the great spiders of Mirkwood are more cunning. And more what is more distubing, they also seem to have a little bit of dark magic left in them, perhaps a legacy of their powerful ancestor, Ungoliant.

These facts had been swirling around Concovare's head as soon as he had transported to this place. Though it is still early morning, here in Kaskarut's lair it is as dark as a moonless night, and the wizard had been momentarily disoriented. Such brief lapse of guard had been what the great spiders had been waiting for in their prey. They attacked the wizard, moving swiftly and noiselessly.

Fortunately for him, the wizard is faster. With a word, the globe on top of Concovare's staff suddenly gave out a harsh white light. Shrieking, for the light has tormented their sensitive eyes, the spiders have climb back up to the tall trees.

Hissing, they said, "Damn you! Kill off that thing or we'll kill you!"

Concovare raised an eyebrow and replied, "Really? It seems to me that it is I that have the power to do just that, instead of you insignificant insects." The smile vanished and he said coldly, "Now, where is Kaskarut?"

But the spiders said nothing but hissed.

"ANSWER ME! WHERE IS KASKARUT?!"

From some dark corner that Concovare cannot distinguish, a gentle voice replied, "My dear Lord Concovare, is it really necessary to raise your voice? Have pity for this poor old soul."

"Poor old soul indeed! Your magic cannot work on me, spider, for you are one of the few know who I really am."

Silence. The other great spiders, hidden except for their luminous eyes, hissed angrily. Then Kaskarut laughed, her sweet voice washing throughout like a fresh brook trickling on a clear stream.

"You got me there, wizard. Pray tell what important matter had brought you here from your comfortable castle in the north."

"Yes, but first please tell your children to go away. Isn't it rude to stare at strangers?", he added, his tone just as mild.

"Ah, you must forgive them. It's been so long since they have eaten, you see and the animals in this forest had not been really that appetizing." She hissed at the other spiders and one by one the eyes had slowly disappeared until only a large pair of yellow eyes in front of the wizard remained.

"Now, sire, what service can I do for you?"

"No, Kaskarut, it is what *I* can do for you. I have a news that you'd want to hear since you had been cooped up on this lair of yours much too long. Well," the wizard continued, "it had come to my attention that a group of people will be passing through Mirkwood through the old road up on the northern part---," The wizard was cut of by Kaskarut's delighted exclamation.

"I shall trust you on this one, wizard," this time, the spider had dropped her sweet voice and it was replaced with one full of malice and hunger. "But if you are double-crossing us, you'll wish you have never come here in Middle-Earth at all!"

"You don't have a choice, Kaskarut," Concovare said, amused. "The woodland elves who have hunted you and your children down have deprived you of your food and now you are desperate, lest you and your children eat each other. And I see that if I hadn't come here you would have done it already," he finished, smirking.

Kaskarut hissed. But remembering herself, she said in her former gentle tone, "It seems that I have to give you my appreciation for this gesture of yours. But I doubt that you’d take a simple gratitude from me. Tell me wizard, what do you want in return?"

"Maybe next time. But for now I shall be content if you and your family would kindly exterminate this group for me."

The spider again laughed merrily. "These people must have infuriated you quite badly. Well, I’ll see to it then."

"Please do." With that Concovare disappeared with a brilliant flash of light which made the other great spiders screech angrily.

But Kaskarut silenced them. "Don’t mind that pompous wizard, my darlings. He has to be thanked for giving us a feast in the next few days," she ended which caused the other spiders to titter in malevolence.