Secrets

The Witch-King of Angmar was known for many things; none of which were prim. A feared leader, he was, none dared mention him aloud.

'Twas the darkest night, one in which gloom surrounded you with icy fingers that would reach up your spine, and give you shivers of the worst kind, ones that would soon turn to a spasm of shudders. The orcs stayed well away from the Witch-King's quarters tonight, for fear of stumbling across his dreadful presence. Yet, (To the residents relief) he was nowhere to be found.
Not to anyone but himself, of course.
The Captain of Despair glided up the stairs of Minas Morgul; work was to be done. Atop the highest turret stood he, the awe striking Lord of the Night.
With the ghastly glow of Minas Morgul behind him, the Witch-King proceeded to do what he alone knew of.
Reaching over the parapet with slender fingers, the Witch-King of Angmar started forming...
shadow puppets.

Oh look, he made a butterfly...