The Grey Castellan between 2 Walls at the End of All Things 5.0

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No king, but a steward — entrusted with responsibility, not with glory. His task was not grand, but essential: to oversee, to decide, to man the wall. He did his work quietly. Carefully. Without ceremony. He is Castellan Wilhelm, and he keeps the watch — Between Two Walls.

His authority reached to the edges of the fortification, but his mandate came from higher up. From Saruman The White, who drew the lines from Orthanc. Saruman rarely spoke directly, yet his presence was everywhere — not just in orders, but in the air itself. Wilhelm bore the mark of the Lord of Isengard, but followed its purpose more than its pride.

The Power of Orthanc rested on his shoulders. Not as a force to wield, but as a burden to carry. As Steward of Orthanc, Wilhelm held delegated command from the tower, and his allies – from the Orthanc Guards to Henneth Annûn Guards, to Isengard Messengers – knew their roles, their routines, their place. Even Edrik Ravenhelm, seasoned and unsentimental, asked no questions — he simply stood where he was needed.

But even the order of Orthanc had its limits. What once seemed sufficient — the hierarchy, the structure, the swift execution of decisions — began to falter as the threat changed. Signals emerged that no longer fit the old framework. Situations required faster response than procedure allowed. People needed help outside the bounds of instruction.

And so… he adapted.

Not from his post. Not from his duty. But from the conditions under which he served.

He entered a new pact. Beyond the Original Bargain.

It gave him room to act beyond fixed constraints. Not by breaking rules, but by redrawing them. He merged his original role as The Grey Wanderer — solitary, mobile, self-reliant — with a broader strategy. Strider was not a title he ever claimed, but it suited him. He moved unseen, choosing his own path between duty and necessity, while keeping his oath to Saruman. If something truly crossed the line, he had no need for permission. He would simply act — A Test of Will, nothing more.

That choice granted access to new tools. Not necessarily more powerful — but better timed. Pillars of the Kings, to extend his reach in rare moments. Need Drives Them, to turn the disruption of Doomed into tactical gain. Every Deep Knowledge was weighed. Each extra draw, each vision from The Seeing-stone, carefully placed in context. The Palantir offered visions not asked for, and truths best handled with restraint. Sometimes, the smoke from a worn Spare Pipe gave him more clarity than a tower full of counsel.

Not surrender. But resolution.

He laid down his cards. Literally. His post, his function, his role — all faded into silence.

But what remained was not emptiness. The walls of Orthanc still stood.

His command still echoed. And those who answered it came prepared. The Herald of Anórien arrived at his word — swift and light-footed, bringing allies into play before the battle began. The [Greyflood Wanderer]s(/card/08030) guarded the crossings. Mirkwood Pioneers moved ahead of the line, eyes fixed on what others had not yet seen. Ring Wall Sentry linked the wall to the tower’s council — and in urgent moments, gave Wilhelm what he needed: an extra ally, a temporary boost, a shift in momentum.

He wielded no magic, but he understood the logic of power. That is why he tolerated the presence of the Voice of Isengard. Not as a companion, but as an influence — one that worked through Deep Knowledge, through Seeing-stones, through Doomed decisions that moved faster than caution allowed. And when Saruman's Staff was raised by its master, it was not for ceremony — but to silence, to command, to override hesitation.

Everything in service of order. Everything in service of the Tower of Orthanc.

The struggle carried on. And at its center: a space where he once stood. A silence that spoke of duty — until At the End of All Things.