Your step is heavy and your gaze is clouded by the unending waves of heat, or is it the sweat that drips from your brow? The sand troubles your feet and your throat is ever thirsty, yet you decide to think once more on why you have taken the road into the lands south of Gondor and Mordor, where no northerner dares to journey. There were rumors, stories about the great Mumakil which roam free in these forests, and what wouldn't you give for just a bit of shade. In the distance you see a rider that bears the sigil of a great black snake, or is it your imagination?

14 tracks