Horsemen were galloping on the grass of
Rohan;
wolves poured from
Isengard. From the havens of
Harad ships of war put out to sea; and out of
the East Men were moving endlessly: swordsmen, spearmen, bowmen upon
horses, chariots of chieftains and laden wains. All the power of the
Dark Lord was in motion. Then turning south again he beheld
Minas Tirith. Far away it seemed. and beautiful: white-walled, many-towered, proud and fair upon its mountain-seat; its battlements glittered with steel, and its turrets were bright with many banners. Hope leaped in his heart. But against Minas Tirith was set another
fortress, greater and more strong. Thither, eastward, unwilling his eye was drawn. It passed the ruined
bridges of
Osgiliath, the grinning gates of
Minas Morgul. and the haunted
Mountains, and it looked upon
Gorgoroth, the valley of terror in the Land of
Mordor. Darkness lay there under the Sun. Fire glowed amid the smoke. MountDoom was burning, and a great reek rising. Then at last his gaze was held: wall upon wall, battlement upon battlement, black, immeasurably strong, mountain of iron, gate of steel, tower of adamant, he saw it:
Barad-dûr, Fortress of
Sauron. All hope left him.