Archive for the ‘12 Silmarillion: Quenta 18’ Category

#51: Rooting Out Elves Is Like Digging for Chiggers

Sep
29

Date: October 12, 458 F.A. (Years of the Sun)
My Mood Is: exasperated

I am getting really tired of Melkor and his fascination with these Elves.

It’s not a fascination — it’s an obsession. It’s like he cares what these little animals think of him. Personally, my sole interest, apart from killing Thingol, is in the traitors, the Valar and their filthy Maiar slaves, hiding behind the mountains in Aman. These are the enemy, not a slew of hairless monkeys.

Sure, I want to destroy Doriath, and murder Thingol in the most humiliating and painful way possible. And I can think of a lot of possibilities. But I only want to kill the Elf Thingol because he’s boning a Maia, Melian. My Melian. So you see, it’s an Ainur thing. Divine business. You screw over Sauron Gorthaur, Lord of Werewolves, Master of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, Chief of the Maiar, Lieutenant of Melkor the Lord of the Earth — and you will get screwed back.

And we know exactly where Doriath is located. It’s no mystery. We could destroy Doriath in a day, and still be free for dinner, except that Melian has encircled the land in a wall of enchantment and confusion. Believe me, she EXCELS at enchanting then confusing.

But we can get through that “girdle.” It will just take time and effort — time and effort the Boss would rather spend finding another two Elven kingdoms. Elven kingdoms we can’t locate, and which probably don’t exist.

By the way, that reminds me — guess who gave these idiotic Elves the idea to build hidden cities? No, guess! Ulmo! Remember that asshole? He’s the Valar responsible for water. Wow, that’s great, Ulmo — you’re in charge of one entire molecule! Me, I designed the metaphysical template of the cosmos, and was responsible for designing all the transition elements and all the metals and metalloids. And antimatter. And dark matter. But you’ve got dihydrogen oxide. Good work, dude!

It was the Dickless Prick, Manwë Súlimo, who decided all the traitors would hide in the Uttermost West while Melkor and I actually ran the damn planet. But Ulmo decided to defy Manwë, which would be promising, except he didn’t do it for any good reason. He’s defying Manwë so he can help all the widdle hewpwess Elves and Dwarves and Men.

So he sends messages to the mortals through rivers, streams, the rain, and… I don’t know… pissing, probably. And he told two of these so-called Elven “Kings” to build hidden kingdoms. One is a hole in the ground (does anyone EVER do anything that I didn’t think of first???), and the other — well, we have no idea. Seriously, it probably doesn’t exist.

But the other day Carcharoth discovered that a couple of Men actually found their way to this other hidden kingdom. No one knows where it is, but supposedly it exists and it’s somewhere near my new place on the River Sirion. So now it’s my job to search everywhere until I find this hidden city for Melkor.

Great. Like I didn’t have anything else to do.

#50: I Have My Own Place Again

Sep
23

Date: April 23, 457 F.A. (Years of the Sun)
My Mood Is: content

Hooray! I have my own place again!

You’ll remember that after I designed and constructed Utumno, I built my own (smaller, but better) fortress at Angband. After Melkor got his lame ass kidnapped by the Valar, the filthy traitors destroyed Utumno. That’s okay — it was the first building ever built, and really wasn’t much more than a giant pit surrounded by mountains. A really well-designed giant pit surrounded by mountains, but still.

Angband is far superior — an actual fortress, with walls and parapets and bastions and machicolations. But when Melkor came back from Valinor, he moved right in, leaving his laundry everywhere and eating food from my shelf in the fridge, whatever a “fridge” is. Asshole.

After the Battle of Sudden Elven Incontinence Flame, I noticed that we hadn’t captured one of the elven strongholds, a place called Minas Tirith in the Pass of Sirion. Even though it was built by stinking elves, this tower is actually really well designed and constructed. Here’s what I figure — back in Valinor, these elves were instructed by maiar of Aulë, who were instructed by me back in the day.

So not only is it my talent that got the place built, but really if you think about it, it belongs to me already. I mean, they didn’t have my permission to use my knowledge to build that tower.

Anyway, I figured I could capture the place rather than tear it down.  So listen to this. I assembled a strike team of a couple of Balrogs, a few platoons of Orcs and Trolls and Wargs, and some of the lesser fire and darkness spirits who have never settled into a permanent form (smart move on their part).

I worked out an entire attack plan, which Carcharoth explained to the boys. Then after marching in parade formation past Melkor (who sat on his throne, head bowed under that ridiculous crown that looks like the front bumper of a Ford Galaxy with three klieg lamps on it, complaining about migraines), we headed off to Tol Sirion.

(Okay, seriously, what the eff is a “Ford Galaxy?” Or a “klieg lamp?” What the hell am I talking about?)

As we approached, Carcharoth led the troops into formation. I started casting and stacking spells, setting up the ranged attacks first, filling up all my slots. As soon as that bitch Arien pulled the Sun down behind the horizon (the Orcs hate to fight during the day — they get squinty), I launched the first attack — a potent Fear Enchantment that cast a pall of terror over the whole of the Isle of Sirion.

And they fled. The elves. All of them.

They didn’t hold their ground. They didn’t raise their defenses. They just dropped their swords and ran. Even this guy Orodreth, the so-called “King of Nargothrond.” King of my scabby ass.

Now I get it, I’m freakin’ terrifying in my giant werewolf form. When I attack as a 50-foot-tall crinos with fiery eyes and slavering jaws, people lose their shit. (I really like the fiery eyes. I should work on that effect, play it up.)

And I was being tailed by a host of scary freakin’ creatures, the Balrogs not the least bowel-loosening. Plus, that Fear Enchantment is pretty badass.

But any other time we used these tactics, the elves were at least able to hold their ground for a bit. Just turning tail and bolting? What a bunch of pussies.

So the others took off to chase the elven cowards to their deaths, while I took possession of Minas Tirith. I have decided to rename it Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the Isle of Werewolves. You know, because I’m in werewolf form. Yeah, it’s not very clever, but it rolls off the tongue. Tolllll-in-Gaurrrrrrhoth. Listen to those liquid consonants.

This is going to be a great place to get away from Melkor, and plot the next big move — the total annihilation of Doriath and the rending into tiny bits of one Elwë “Thingol” Singollo.

#49: Melkor 1, Noldor 0

Aug
11

Date: June 12th, 456 F.A. (Years of the Sun)
My Mood Is: triumphant

The so-called Dagor Bragollach, or Battle of Sudden Flame, is over. I like to call it the “Battle of Thousands of Elves and Men Screaming I’m on Fire Oh It Hurts So Much.”

And for once, it was a complete victory for our team.

First off, we finally — finally — launched a finished, fully-functioning Flying Fire-Breathing Monster version 1.0. On the official paperwork these things are called Úruloki; I wanted to call them the Great Worms, although they don’t look very much like worms. But when the first one attacked the Elves, they all ran away yelling “dragon! Dragon!” Which I think means “I’m crapping my pants in fear!” in elfy-talk.

By the way, where did Elf-language come from anyway? Did someone sit around for decades inventing it? What kind of a freak would do that?

Anyway. Remember Glaurung? The fire-spirit who was always sucking up to Melkor in the Timeless Halls? Well, he gets to be the first dragon. This is pretty cool for him, since he’s now pretty much our main weapon, the Panzer Division of Fire and Ice and Darkness and Death. Whatever a “Panzer” is.

I guess sucking up pays off. I wouldn’t know.

The other dragons, including Ancalagon, Scatha and Smaug, should be ready soon. I’m still kind of worried about the lack of ventral armor — we’ll have to fix that for Dragon 2.0.

But about the battle. We’ve pretty much cleared the north of Beleriand of everything we don’t like — Elves, Men, Dwarves, trees, streams, rabbits, baby fawns… Now it’s all charred landscape, dead twisted forests, poisoned wells — the way the world should be.

We failed to take the fortress of Minas Tirith, in the Pass of Sirion. I’ll have to go deal with that situation personally.

So now all the remaining Elves are cowering down in Doriath, suckling at Melian’s teat. She will have to be taken down next. Taken down hard. And I intend to murder Thingol with my own claws.

But there’s more. With Melkor, there’s always some embarrassing bit, isn’t there?

It seems this guy Finglofo or Funglifo or Fingolfolo — I can’t tell these guys apart — was “High King of the Noldor,” which is like being the finest turd in the toilet bowl. I mean really, “High King?” How many “kings” do they have?

Well, this “High King” was the only one of his retarded species to realize that the Elf “Kingdoms” of Middle-earth are over. Done. Kaput. Melkor reigns supreme.

So he hopped on a horse, showed up at Angband, and challenged Melkor to a duel. Which is some pretty ballsy shit. I mean if you’re going to die, do it with style, right?

So I’d like to tell you that Melkor walked over to the little guy and squashed him like a bug. I’d like to tell you that, but it wouldn’t be true. The little guy actually put up a fight — indeed, he got in seven shots on Morgoth. Seven wounds!

Holy crap, I just called him “Morgoth.” I’m starting to talk like an Elf.

The little guy actually wounded Morgoth Melkor seven times before the Boss finally crushed him to death. That is pathetic. I don’t know what they did to Melkor over there in Valinor for all those aeons, but he is NOT the same man he was before.

Plus, just as Melkor was declaring victory, an freakin’ Eagle got past all our exterior defenses, past freakin’ Glaurung, and grabbed up the dead Elf king’s body and bore it away to who knows where. I assume the Eagle is going to eat the body — after all, if it had been trying to help the Elf, it would have grabbed him up before he died, right? That’s just logic, right?

Now Melkor’s down in the Uttermost Pit, whining about how much his foot hurts. Man, it’s all up to me now, isn’t it?

#48: The Battle of Sudden Flame is ON!!!

Jul
11

Date: December 28th, 455 F.A. (Years of the Sun)
My Mood Is: stoked

Despite my advice, Melkor has decided in his infinite wisdom to strike against the Elves and eradicate them once and for all.

Not that I have any problem with eradicating the Elves, especially that asshole Thingol. And to be honest, it won’t be hard — the Elves have nothing on us in terms of power and military might.

But it’s too soon. Sure, we’ve been sending out Orc troops every once in a while, to test the Elves’ strength. Each time we do, and they “defeat” us, the Elves treat each skirmish as if it were some glorious battle. As if — these attacks are merely feints to draw out the enemy. Do you think we really care of we lose a few tens of thousands of Orcs? Those things breed like cockroaches!

On one occasion, one of the Flying Fire-Breathing Monsters (we still don’t have a name for these) escaped, before it was ready, and had to flee back to Angband with its tail between its legs. Now the Elves think they can beat anything we got.

Idiots.

Right now we are building an undefeatable Army of Fire and Ice and Darkness and Death, one that will defeat even the filthy Valar traitors themselves. But it takes time. It’s only been a few centuries since Melkor escaped from Aman. Give me another millennium or two, and we’ll be ready!

But no. Melkor wants to attack now. The guy who’s so brilliant, he spent three eons imprisoned by the Valar, thinks it’s time to attack. Don’t listen to Sauron, who’s been doing all the actual work — reinforcing Angband, upgrading the Orcs, manufacturing Trolls, designing Wargs — what the hell would I know about it?

So, we’ll attack early. Fine.

There is an upside. As our first assault in the new war, I got to try out my patented Pyroclastic Attack. See, we dug so deep at Angband that we hit magma, so I designed a series of sluices that brought the magma up into giant reservoirs. Last night we blew the floodgates, and millions of metric tons of lava, ash and poisonous gas burst out onto Ard-galen, converting what was a hideous plain infested with bright green grasses and sickly white flowers into a beautiful wasteland of basalt and hyaloclastite. Yes!

I love it when one of my inventions works! Of course, my inventions always work.

Anyway, those Elves not immediately immolated by the lava are fleeing, leaving us plenty of room to send forth our forces — once the lava cools a bit.

We’re going to set out at tomorrow at dusk. Who knows — maybe we really can destroy the Elves in one fell swoop. Of course, Melkor isn’t taking Men into account, which is a mistake. Melkor always does that — he doesn’t take any enemy seriously, not until that enemy hands him his balls.

We’ll see what happens.