If you ignored the vast number of orcs surrounding the city, and only looked at the magnificent palace at the center of the capital, this place actually wasn't so terrible.
However, despite the grandeur of the buildings and how wealthy the kingdom appeared, the poor were still desperately poor.
Just like the elderly man walking on the street, looking lonely, aged, and without support. A tattered robe hung loosely on his fra, clearly ill-fitting. He held a wooden staff, perhaps to help him keep going when his strength failed.
His face was covered with a piece of cloth from the nose down, probably to protect against prolonged sun exposure.
"Soone like him has probably traveled far and wide. If we offer coin, he'd certainly be willing to talk," Halbarad suggested, relying on his usual instincts, and was the first to step forward and speak.
After a brief exchange, the old man frowned and studied the tall wanderer standing before him, as if trying to recall sothing.
"I'm no beggar."
"But you... you look sowhat familiar..."
Shaking his head, the old man said, "What do you wish to ask? If I know sothing, I won't necessarily keep it from you."
At that mont, Garrett also walked over.
The old man glanced to the side, and once he saw Garrett, he couldn't take his eyes off him.
He completely forgot about speaking with Halbarad and hurried toward Garrett with his staff.
"You don't look like soone from around here. Perhaps your features resemble the people here sowhat, but at a fundantal level, you're different. Most commoners wouldn't notice, but the mont a noble lays eyes on you, you'll be exposed."
"What?"
Garrett tensed up.
Exposed?
"If you don't want to be surrounded and attacked by tomorrow, co with ."
Halbarad looked at Garrett, one hand gripping the hidden dagger in his cloak.
Garrett shook his head at him and followed the old man first.
They made their way, heads lowered, weaving through buildings until they reached an empty pavilion.
The old man turned around, pulled off the cloth covering his face, then removed his hood.
"It's you?!"
Halbarad exclaid in surprise.
As he cried out, the old man removed the ill-fitting cloak from his shoulders, revealing a sea-blue robe underneath. Hanging from his belt was a wide-brimd hat, the sa color as the robe.
In that mont, everything beca clear.
"Let formally introduce myself," the old man gave a slight bow and said, "My na is Alatar, as you can see, I'm one of the Istari. Of course, you probably haven't heard that na much, since I rarely use it."
"But you might recognize it from various local legends, the sinister conspirator, the spreader of rumors, or perhaps Morinehtar, the Darkness Slayer."
"I didn't expect you to return, wanderer of the western lands."
"Honestly, I didn't really wish to co back..." Halbarad replied, then stepped aside to introduce Garrett: "This is the one I ntioned before, the lord who helped escape that ferry crossing."
After that, he took a deep breath and introduced Garrett to the wizard.
"This is the legend of the western wilderness, master of crafting magic, founder of free settlents, slayer of dragons... Garrett."
Whoosh.
After finishing the lengthy introduction, he imdiately gasped for air and took several deep breaths before finally calming down.
"...Since I first set foot on this land, I've never returned to the western realms. I didn't expect such a remarkable figure to erge in these past years."
The elderly wizard, whose features still held a noble bearing, couldn't help but stroke his grizzled beard.
"You're Dúnedain as well?"
"I'm not," Garrett replied.
"May I ask who sent you?"
The man in the blue robe glanced westward, clearly implying sothing more with his question.
"I ca on my own."
"Of your own..."
"Well then, impressive. Truly impressive."
He seed to be misunderstanding sothing again.
Garrett didn't want to dwell on the topic. He said, "I've been looking into your whereabouts. I heard you said… you can't go back?"
"Yes. It's exceedingly difficult."
At the ntion of this, Alatar sighed heavily.
"During a past confrontation, the Enemy left a mark upon my spirit, one that cannot be removed. That mark is corrupting my essence, drawing closer to the Shadow..."
"I can barely rember what my holand looks like anymore, only that it was a place of beauty."
"My ti grows short, Master Garrett."
He continued simply, "At most a few decades, or perhaps a century, before I may no longer be myself."
"Why do you say that?"
Alatar didn't answer, he only shook his head.
"You don't understand how terrible that power is. It's not sothing ordinary ans can combat. Anyway, let's speak of you, why have you co here?"
"I've heard Sauron's forces are strong in this region, and the situation isn't looking great."
Garrett didn't press the previous topic further. He followed the wizard's lead and said, "So I ca to see what's going on. And if possible, I'd like to put so pressure on Sauron's forces. He's been far too active lately."
"The situation is indeed urgent."
Alatar said, "I've barely managed to assemble an army, and now it's about to be attacked by a combined force of orcs and Easterlings. And we still lack proper fortifications."
"An army? Where?"
There were allies in this region?
"Directly east of Mordor, not too distant from the Black Land itself."
Alatar recalled.
"Things weren't going well, but at least they were improving... until the Enemy suddenly revealed himself in Barad-dûr and issued a call to arms across the entire East."
"Even in a weakened state, the Enemy's power isn't sothing mortals can resist. Even those with strong will are quickly overwheld by Mordor's influence."
"Now, farther east, there's only one last stronghold held by those who resist. I hope it won't fall when the Shadow arrives."
Though his words were sowhat cryptic and not very detailed, he had more or less explained the situation.
"You say you're concerned about that last bastion... so why are you here, in the enemy's stronghold?"
Halbarad had been listening closely, but this was the one thing he couldn't understand.
Wizards were often seen as wise counselors or military strategists among many peoples. And a strategist, why co running into enemy territory instead of planning from the rear?
"I had a feeling. A premonition told I should co."
Alatar glanced at Garrett and said, "It was... an Istari's intuition. And even without it, I would have co anyway."
"Dúnadan of the West, descendant of Núnor, you don't understand what the Istari are capable of."
"Sotis, the power and solutions of one person can go far beyond your imagination."
At that, he smiled with quiet confidence.
"That's certainly true," Halbarad didn't argue.
After all, he had a pri example standing right beside him.
"I'm entering the royal palace now to et their king. If I can break the Enemy's corruption over him, even if, afterward, they still remain hostile to the free peoples of the West or seek to destroy the last bastion in the East, it would still buy us precious ti. The orcs outside will be enough to keep them occupied for a while."
"Need help?" Garrett sounded more than a little eager.
"No, young legend and rising lord of new lands. I don't know why you would risk coming here yourself, and with only one Dúnadan companion, no less."
"But you'd best remain here. As I said before, if any noble lays eyes on you, they'll instantly know you're different. And then the army will be summoned to overwhelm you."
"I'll return with good new."
With that, the man in the blue robe nodded to them both and turned to walk toward the palace.
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