This is a page about waiting, and about nothing happening. This is not an exciting page.
Pippin and Beregond sit and eat lunch on the wall where they overlooked Minas Tirith just yesterday, though it feels like many more days have passed since then. The darkness crawls from Mordor, covering the sky save for a western sliver where the sun sets. Pippin is tired of inaction, and wants to know what this darkness means. Also, the absence of Faramir weighs on everyone. Just as the page ends, something drastic happens to draw Pippin and Beregond’s attention.
Gasp! Cliffhanger again!
It’s the most excitement we can pull out of this page, while everyone just bemoans how static things are feeling. The air feels thick and stagnant, too. If this darkness is indeed magically wrought (likely), then it’s doing a great job of demoralizing the city defense. Idle hands are the devil’s playground, and the devil is all for making those hands idle to begin with.
And, with all this idleness, there’s very little else to say. I’ll just sit idle (LIKE EVERYONE ELSE) and wait to see what’s going on with this…thing that happens right at the end of today’s page. Sit tight and wait…some more.
No one dies today.
“Pippin cowered down with his hands pressed to…”