His name was Noruk the Assassin. When we first met, he lodged an arrow in my chest and left me for dead. This was the start of many more of my own deaths--me typically getting an explosive arrow to the neck, him getting one promotion after another for repeatedly slaying the deathless Gravewalker (that's me). But when I finally killed him and his lackeys after more than a dozen failed attempts, it felt like a part of me had died. Just as Batman and the Joker give each other purpose, Noruk's presence in Mordor was a constant reminder of my struggle to get revenge on the Uruk. Without my diametric opposite, I felt weaker.