Disclaimer: The King is Tolkien's, the Envoy is mine.
Author's Note: For the 'against' challenge.
The Envoy's face was hard to read, half covered as it was with a silken veil. His eyes at least were visible, dark as midnight and gleaming like jewels; the lids were rimmed with lines of charcoal - not mere ornament, the king had learned, but meant to protect the man's sight from Anar's harsh glare in his southern homeland.
Words should be chosen carefully, for the Envoy came not alone and his guards' steel was bright and doubtless quick.
"Your Master is destroyed, lord Haradan. I mean to cleanse the lands he despoiled. Are you with me or against?"