A winged thing – not of feather or quill, but naked and leathery. Armed with tooth and claw, its screeching cry, piercing and unnatural, invokes a primal fear in all who hear its call. A foul steed, it serves its rider to scour the skies and plague the lands.
Perching upon the ruins of Osgiliath, forsaken capital of Gondor, the Fell Beast aides its Nazgûl rider in tracking down the Ringbearer. Its imposing figure poised to launch in pursuit. Saddled atop this abhorrent mount, the Witch-king surveys the ruins – searching, seeking, always seeking, the call of the Ring.
