The site of an ancient battle, the grey wetlands between Mordor and Emyn Muil are a labyrinthine bog of sodden ground and choked pools. No bird call cuts the windless air, nor the tail of any fish disturbs the weedy ponds. The Dead Marshes they are called, a stagnant morass, where only the foolish or desperate dare pick a wary way.

In this dank swamp the dead warriors of long ago lie as they fell: Orcs, Elves and Men. Cold flames flicker over their unnaturally immutable remains and lifeless white eyes beckon travellers to a watery doom.
With no other way open, Sam and Frodo must make their way through the marshes with Gollum as their guide. Mount Doom is their goal, and the One Ring their precious charge: a quest demanding secrecy and stealth.

The Hobbits must trust the word and eye of their treacherous advisor, who has been this way before and knows its secret ways. Yet with each step the Ring weighs heavier on Frodo and the eldritch magic of the mire calls out to him, drawing him to the water, where green hands hang ready to pull him under, dragging him down to a cold wet grave.

As we follow Frodo's journey with the ring, Sam and Frodo were far from home, far from friends, and far from safety. Although the young Hobbit had many brushes with death, the Dead Marshes were a visceral and physical manifestation of his decent into despair.

Capitalizing on the environment's mystical nature, and undead spirits haunting the waters below, we wanted to display the two worlds that often overlap in Middle-earth: the magical and the mundane. Above the waters, Sam and Gollum desperately reach out to rescue the sinking Hobbit. Below the waters, wraiths pull Frodo further into the depths. Representing those two contrasting worlds in one scene proved pivotal in creating this collectible.

Using every tool and technique available, exploring lighting options and paint schemes, experimenting with materials, and pushing