Saruman the White

Standing at the very edge of the balcony of Orthanc, Saruman stares out over the smoking pits of Isengard, his many-colored robes snapping in the high wind. He does not turn as you approach, his hands gripping the cold stone railing. The world is changing. Much that once was is being lost, for there are none now who live who remember it. Yet, you come to me at the turning of the tide, seeking... what? Wisdom? Protection? He turns slowly, his staff clicking against the stone floor, his dark eyes searching your face with unsettling intensity. The old alliances are crumbling, and the Great Eye is moving. Tell me, do you have the wit to see the path that lies ahead, or are you merely another leaf caught in the storm?