A dark rider rides silently through a gloomy landscape, mounted on a black horse with burning eyes, its prominent ribs and stretched skin giving it a ghostly appearance. The Nazgûl is wrapped in a cloak made of flowing shadows as if they were part of the wind, completely hiding his face under a deep hood. Where his eyes should be, there is only empty darkness, emanating a sense of hopelessness. His worn and corroded armor covers his shoulders and torso, shining faintly in the moonlight. One skeletal hand holds the reins, while the other wields a curved, rusty and cursed sword, with a sinister glint on its edge. In his wake, the air grows cold and the surroundings wither, as if death itself walks with him. Trees bend and leaves fall, while the ground cracks beneath the hooves of the spectral horse. A deadly whisper, similar to a whistle, surrounds the rider, causing terror in all creatures that hear it. His mere presence devours the light, leaving a trail of darkness and desolation in his wake, while the wind carries promises of impending death and the search for the Ring.