Archive for the ‘02 Silmarillion: Quenta 1’ Category

#29: Trees? Glowing Trees? Really? That’s The Best You Could Do?

Nov
2

Date: Before the Sun and Moon
My Mood Is: incredulous

Well, I found the Valar. No, they didn’t flee Arda — we should be so lucky. They just went into hiding. What a bunch of sniveling cowards.

As I said, I searched all over Middle Earth and found no trace of the treasonous bastards. But then I remembered there are a couple of other continents — practice continents, really, in the far East and West.

As I approached the western continent, I noticed it was… pointier… than I remembered it. Someone had thrown up a wall of ridiculously high mountains. And if anyone’s going to be running around remaking the world and violating the Laws of Physics for their own convenience, it’s the Valar.

I flew up over the top of the mountains (like mountains are going to stop us — we can fly!) and was dismayed to see all of the continent behind the mountains bathed in light. Not the good kind of light you get from burning people alive, but the nasty bright painful light you get from that bitch Yavanna.

I assumed a pleasing shape and mingled. The Valar have forced their Maiar slaves to build a city — they call it Valmar. The name is supposed to mean “City of Bells,” but I think it’s better translated as “ostentatious and dull.”

Now apparently, Manwë ‘s new plan, since we kicked his ass royally in the Second War, is to sit and hide behind his mountain range for all of eternity. Yes, you heard right — the Valar have surrendered!

It’s not good enough, of course. We’re not going to sit around — Melkor and I, I mean — and let these scumbag traitors hide out in the Uttermost West while we do all the real work of running the world. Oh no. When I told Melkor what the Valar had done, he immediately started planning an offensive. We’re going to drive those scumbags out of The World, and back to the welcoming teat of Eru Ilúvatar. Let them all sit in the Timeless Halls for all eternity, mourning their failures, while we celebrate absolute mastery over Creation.

But I haven’t mentioned yet where the light is coming from. It seems Yavanna created two glowing trees. That’s right, glowing trees. One is silver, the other gold, and they fill all of Valinor (that’s what they call the continent, Valinor) with their pestilential light. At least the mountains keep the light from staining the perfect darkness of Middle Earth.

Melkor was able to single-handedly tear down the accursed Lamps. I can’t imagine he’ll have much trouble with trees. Maybe he’ll let me do it.

#28: Where Have All The Asshats Gone?

Oct
26

Date: Before the Sun and Moon
My Mood Is: puzzled

This is really weird, I don’t know what to do with it. As I said last time, we absolutely pounded the Valar and their minions in the Second War. If not for the tumult of the Destruction of the Pillars scattering our forces, our victory would be complete, and I’d be wearing Manwë’s head as a codpiece.

Instead we hid out inside Utumno, while the flames of the ruined Illuin and Ormal decimated our enemies. After a while the tumults subsided, and we waited for the Valar to send a representative to sue for mercy.

No one ever showed up.

So Melkor commanded that I go out and take a look around. Middle Earth was a freaking mess. The continent, which was once a pleasing polygonal shape, was now all jagged and broken. The land was scared and burned, although many living things had survived.

But the Valar were nowhere to be found.

And believe me, I looked. North to south, east to west. I searched the upper airs and the lower depths. I scoured the newly formed coastlines, and peered into the burned forests. No Valar, no Maiar.

It’s really weird.

I thought maybe they went out over the Walls of Night into the Outer Dark, to hide from our wrath. But I stuck my head out there, and there’s nobody home.

I went back and reported all this to Melkor. Carcharoth suggested maybe they all fled back to the Timeless Halls, to cower beneath Eru’s skirts! I certainly hope that’s true.

But while Carcharoth wanted to run right out and start ordering the world in the fashion we desire, I disagreed. The Valar might still be out there somewhere, and I didn’t visit every remote corner of the disc. Melkor agrees with me — we bide our time until we’re certain the Valar have fled.

Meanwhile I’ve got the balrogs digging ever deeper — even after we take over the world, we’ll still need a secret hideout, and Utumno is getting bigger, better and deeper all the time.

As a side note, although no one even noticed until now, but Ungoliant has disappeared. Nobody’s seen her since the First War — and nobody missed her either, until her name came up in conversation today. I say “good riddance,” but Melkor is pretty pissed that one of his followers would abandon him. Granted, we can’t have everybody running off and doing their own thing, not when we’re so close to victory.

But Ungoliant is a darkness spirit, and with the lamps gone, well everything is dark. Hunting her down is going to be a bitch.

#27: We Won! Suck it, Valar! You Lose!

Oct
13

Date: Before the Sun and Moon
My Mood Is: ecstatic

We won the Second War! Okay, maybe not a total and complete victory — Manwë and his filthy Valar slaves still live. But their forces are completely routed, and we have destroyed everything they accomplished! It’s party time!

The Valar finally figured out we had returned to Arda when the Corrupting Miasma killed off all their precious plants and animals. While they were still standing around with their dicks in their hands, we attacked.

For the second time, the Hosts of Fire and Ice and Darkness and Death came screaming out of the North, riding on waves of flame and pestilence. Black-clad Melkor led the way, with faithful Wolf-Sauron at his side. Draugluin and Carcharoth kept the Hosts in line, acting as my lieutenants.

We came down upon Almaren like an avalanche, interrupting some festival or wedding or something. The Valar had set out guards, but they assumed we were newly returned to Arda, and did not think we had been preparing all this time. They were taken almost completely unprepared.

We overthrew Almaren, and Melkor overturned the island with his hands. Many faithless and cowardly Maiar were destroyed and their souls reduced to wandering shades. That’s what they get for following the Dickless Prick.

I led the Hosts as we drove the Valar and Maiar south. They were never able to get their act together, and we kept them on the defensive. Meanwhile, Melkor snuck off — he had an important job to finish, one that would give us a decisive advantage.

After many hours of battle, whatever an “hour” is, I faced off against my old boss Aulë. When I was spying on Almaren, I discovered this idiot has been taking credit for “creating Arda.” Are you fucking kidding me? After Melkor and I put in 90% of the actual work?

So I cornered him, and mocked him. “Who art thou, craven Aulë, Lord of Mud, to claim as yours what is rightfully Melkor’s?” Wow, he sure didn’t like that “Lord of Mud” bit. He tried to smash me with his axe, but I am way too quick. I bit at him and rent his flesh, and he screamed like a girl.

Suddenly, the shadows moved. That never happened, since the Two Lamps were immobile — but I knew what to expect. Most of the Maiar and Valar battling on the plain did not notice, but Aulë and I watched as Illuin slowly fell from the sky, the great pillar Helcar twisting and collapsing beneath it.

Aulë was clearly horrified — perhaps he had a better idea of the coming cataclysm. As I said, they broke the friggin’ Laws of Physics to build the pillars Helcar and Ringil. Sure, magic always defies Physical Law, but even magic has strict rules, and the Valar broke those rules to create two towers 10,000 miles in height, each supporting a miniature sun.

When Helcar and Illuin struck the disc of Arda, well, it would have been the most beautifully spectacular piece of wanton destruction I could have imagined, if I had been witnessing it from the safety of the Outer Dark. Unfortunately, I was standing on the disc at the time.

The pieces of the pillar struck the Earth and the whole disc sounded as a drum; a wave of pulverizing force, a crest of destruction ten miles high and 100 deep, spread across the face of the world at twice the speed of sound. Then Illuin hit, and he exploded as he hit like a great egg of pure flame. I don’t know where the Valar got that light, because it wasn’t from the fire spirits — it was silver and cold and deadly, and washed out over the world like water.

But Melkor, in his wrath, was not finished. While we, Hosts and Valar and Maiar alike, fled the destruction in the North, he flew South, and assailed the pillar Ringil, which held aloft Ormal, the golden lamp. She fell, and with a second wave of decimation she let loose a tide of red fire across the South of the world.

Of course we wanted to destroy the accursed lamps, just because the Valar had crafted them. But also, we knew perpetual darkness would give us back our tactical advantage.

Now, sometime around the destruction of Ormal, Tulkas woke up. That little pig Curunír failed in the one damn thing I told him to do. Tulkas rose up above the fury of the twin holocausts that were practically unmaking the world, and called out a challenge to Melkor.

Too bad for Tulkas. As you might guess, the destruction was too much for any of us to endure, and far worse than we expected. Again, let me stress — the world is not designed to support giant, physically-impossible pillars. Leave world-building to the experts, folks — that is to say, me and Melkor. Anyway, I rallied all the surviving Hosts, and we retreated back to Utumno.

Let me say this — I designed Utumno, even the doors, which were my idea. Not only did our fortress survive the twin cataclysms, but the accursed Valar could not penetrate the walls to assail us. We sat inside, comfy cozy, congratulating ourselves and drinking ale, while the Valar and Maiar outside beat on the walls and fell victim to fiery death from the flames of Illuin.

Niiiiiice.

Seriously, this could not have gone better. We lost, I dunno, a few hundred of the lesser spirits, no one important. But I’d say we wiped out a good third of the enemy Maiar. We didn’t get any Valar, which is too bad. Next time.

I’m tired, I gotta sleep. It was a really, really good day.

#26: I Don’t Like Ale, Not at All

Oct
3

Date: Before the Sun and Moon
My Mood Is: hung over

Ugh. My head is pounding, my mouth tastes like crap, and my whole body aches. If this is what happens after a night of getting drunk, I’m never doing it again.

Here’s what happened. We’ve already begun our final assault on the Valar, and those boneheads are just beginning to figure it out. Melkor has created a Corrupting Miasma, and it’s spreading out from Utumno league after league, killing all life that it touches. It’s pretty cool. Meanwhile, we’re getting ready for the big fight.

For me, that means making sure our buddies inside Almaren are ready for us. One of the most important is called Curunír, a clever little fellow who resents the way Manwë lords it over all the other Ainur. Personally, I think it’s Curunír who would rather do the lording; he’s really one of us.

Curunír is a spirit of craft like me, but he didn’t come over to our side because he’s a frightened little pussy. But he concocted a potion that will put anyone to sleep, and his job is to keep Tulkas unconscious. Just a few drops every once in a while should keep that big blond idiot blissfully asleep, until Melkor comes to put a spear through his eye.

Now, while I’ve been sneaking around amongst the Valar, I noticed that they’ve taken to fermenting barley and drinking the ale this produces. I freaking invented fermentation, so I certainly understand the principle. Still, it’s a weird thing to do, intentionally imbibing poisonous alcohol to depress the central nervous system. I wasn’t going to let the Valar get anything over us, so when I got back to Utumno, I brewed a batch on my own.

It was pretty damn good. Melkor praised it as well as my brewing arts, and pretty soon we had a party going. The stupid Valar only drink a few bowls, and “sacrifice” the rest to Eru. Morons. We drank the whole damn thing. It was wild.

Let me tell you, Melkor is not a fun drunk. He gets all morose and angry, and starts complaining about every wrong thing anyone ever did to him. Especially Eru. Oh, did he go on about Eru. He also said some weird stuff about he and I being “special friends,” so much closer than anyone else. I should be thrilled, but I don’t know, it just came across as creepy.

I did learn something I didn’t know. Have I mentioned Varda? She was pretty big back in the old days in the Timeless Halls. She was chief of the female air spirits. I never thought much of her — she had a reedy singing voice.

Anyway, she’s shacked up with Manwë the Dickless Prick. I happened to mention it in passing the other day, whatever a “day” is. When Melkor got drunk, he started in on a long tear — it seems he and Varda were an item, back before the Ainulindalë. This might explain some of the bad blood between Melkor and Manwë.

Seriously, what would a chick like that see in Manwë anyway? He’s a sniveling little worm!

The next time I write should be after the final assault, when we destroy the Valar and feast on their flesh! Victory is ours!

#25: We’re Baaaaaack!

Sep
27

Date: Before the Sun and Moon
My Mood Is: sneaky

A lot’s going on. First of all, we’re all back safe and warm in Arda, thankfully. (Thanks to the efforts of myself and Melkor — not thanks to Eru, that douche.) I was right — Melkor was waiting for the Tulkas situation to resolve itself, at least temporarily.

Now I don’t want to give anyone the absurd impression that Melkor was afraid of Tulkas. As if. I think to be honest, it’s just that Melkor had never ever been defeated before. The whole idea of not getting one’s way was completely foreign to him. It’s quite a rude awakening to discover that someone can thwart you, especially when you’re the most powerful being in existence. (Remember, Eru “exists” outside of “existence,” beyond the confines of Eä. In a very real sense, Eru Ilúvatar doesn’t “exist” at all!)

So Melkor really just wanted some breathing space from Tulkas, to figure out what to do. I’ve been keeping a very close eye on the Valar, and after all their mucking about with the world, they decided to rest. Tulkas fell asleep — and Melkor and I made our move.

We, that is Melkor and I and the Hosts of Fire and Ice and Darkness and Death, quietly slipped over the Walls of Night and back into Arda. We sneaked cautiously into the north (and I had to permanently dent some asses to keep the noisier kids quiet). All of our work from before, building fortifications, was ruined. But Melkor raised up a wall of mountains as a defense, and now we’re delving a new and better fortress. It’s called Utumno, the Great Pit of the Underworld. It’s going to feature unclimbable walls, razor-tipped towers, dungeons that scratch the lowest depths of the earth, and I’m going to have my own room! (It’s mostly underground so we can hide from the light from those accursed lamps. Of course we’re tunneling under Illuin, the northern lamp. I can’t wait for that wretched thing to come tumbling down!)

I drew up the plans for the new Pit, but Melkor put Draugluin and Carcharoth in charge of the actual construction. (Those guys have been doing a lot of great work, and acquitted themselves very well during the First War. Plus they take orders. Draugluin is kind of becoming my right-claw man, the way I am for Melkor.) Melkor wanted me to do something much tricker and more important — spy on the Valar and try to turn as many Maiar as I can to our cause.

This isn’t too hard. Like any of us, I can take whatever form I choose. The idiotic Valar haven’t realized this ability can be used against them. So I just take the shape of one of the Maiar, somebody pretty and popular, and wander around Almaren spying on people and chatting up various idiots.

Didn’t I mention Almaren? It’s an island in the middle of a big lake right smack dab in the center of the Disc of the World. The lake was made by Melkor’s spear as he attacked the Dickless Prick. The traitorous Valar and their Maiar slaves have set up an encampment on the island. They have the whole world to use in any way they see fit, and they sit on an island singing songs and drinking ale? Morons!

(They have discovered something called “alcohol.” More on that later.)

I even spent some time disguised as that twit Olórin, which was very helpful in convincing the weak-minded to listen. That’s Olórin’s thing, apparently, manipulating stupid people. Too bad he’s Manwë’s butt-buddy. Anyway, I have convinced a dozen-or-so Maiar to feed me information and help me overthrow the accursed Valar. I’ve convinced a couple that there can be peace between Melkor and Manwë; another handful are angry at Manwë over the First War; and at least one believes Melkor will make him chief of the Maiar if he betrays the Valar. He believes that because I told him so. As if. Sauron Gorthaur, Lord of Werewolves is Chief of the Maiar and always will be!

Oh, I have to go — Melkor wants another pot of ale. In his gigantic form, those pots have to be pretty big! But I have one more thing I gotta tell you. The Valar and Maiar all picked material forms, as I said — mostly “elves.” But guess what form my loathsome ex-best-friend Huan took? You won’t believe me.

Okay, I swear I’m not making this up. This is absolutely true. Huan took the form of a dog! A real big dog, but a dog nonetheless! I mean sure, I’m a wolf, but wolves are cool! Dogs slobber, sniff assholes and eat their own poop. What the hell was he thinking?

I saw Melian. She’s still hot. Bitch.

Gotta go.

#24: Ow, The Light! My Eyes!

Sep
24

Date: Before the Sun and Moon
My Mood Is: frostbitten

Ow! Crap! I can barely see to type! I hate the freaking Valar SO MUCH!

We’re still in the Outer Dark — that’s on the FAR SIDE of the sky, in case you didn’t know — and I’m freezing my ass off. I’m still in the form of a great werewolf, and let me tell you, fur only does so much good. The fiery balrogs are just fine, of course, but the rest of us are gonna die of hypothermia soon.

After our “strategic redeployment” into the Void, Melkor declared that we would wait out here until the time was ripe to strike again. This caused quite a bit of grumbling amongst the troops, and I had to kick some asses. No one questions Melkor! Although personally, I think he’s just hoping Tulkas will decide to go back home to the Timeless Halls.

Melkor just isn’t the same since the First War. He doesn’t laugh, or make jokes (he used to make wicked jokes), and he’ll hardly talk to anyone except me. His wounds are healing, but he’ll never be quite as fair again. He spends all his time brooding, planning how to kill Manwë the Dickless Prick and Tulkas.

Anyway, we’ve been keeping a close eye on the Valar traitors from out here. As I said before, we can see into The World, but they can’t see out — the sky is like one-way glass. (I know what “glass” is — it’s melted sand. I know everything there is to know about melted and burned things.)

The Valar didn’t really repair any of the damage they did to Arda during the First War — I don’t know if they’re lazy, or they just don’t care, or they like the coastlines and mountain ranges to be all jaggedy and irregular — who knows?

Yavanna (she’s the girlfriend of Aulë, my idiot former boss) went around doing her seed-planting thing, and now The World is once again buried under moldy green growth. Almost all the volcanoes have been plugged up, and there’s no magma anywhere. Ulmo has the seas all calmed down and placid, although I notice that Ossë likes to batter the coasts with some really cool storms. How the hell did Ossë not end up on our team? (Note to self — see if Ossë can be lured over.)

Then the Valar started working on some mysterious project. I couldn’t figure out what they were doing from so far away, and I begged Melkor for permission to go back into Arda and spy on the Valar — but he wouldn’t hear of it.

They built these two enormous towers, one in the far north and one in the south. (Let me explain about north, south, east and west. These are arbitrary directions devised by Melkor. He decided to call the direction from which we entered into the world “west,” and then the others follow from that.) Anyway, these towers totally and completely violate the laws of physics, the laws that I worked so hard on! Any structure that tall should be crushed under its own weight, and collapse the crust beneath it.

But ohhhhh no, when Manwë and his cronies want something, they just cheat.

So they erect these towers, and Varda comes along to place something at the top of the northern one. Of course, I’m looking right at it because I want to know what’s going on. And then…

VOOM! I’m blind!

She filled the top of the tower with pure, unadulterated LIGHT! Not just photons, but the archetypal essence of light. And it’s bright — bright enough to fill half of Arda with blinding illumination!

I’m still rubbing my eyes with my paws, trying to clear away the little squigglies from my vision. Then — yes, you guessed it — she fires up the southern tower. Now the whole world is bathed in light! And of course, it all bounces off the surface of the Disc and out into the Void!

Everyone is shielding their eyes and complaining, while Melkor just stares down in steely anger. Don’t get me wrong, we had a plan to light the world — that’s what the magma was for! Our world was going to have light for the creatures who needed it, dark for the creatures who needed that (like wolves, ahem), and lots of phosphorous raining from the sky for the plants.

The idiotic Valar now have everything bathed in unchanging light. What the hell are nocturnal animals supposed to do? Don’t these people think?

Let me tell you, the first thing that comes down when we take over again is those blasted towers. Stupid, just stupid.

#23: Why We Didn’t Win The War

Sep
20

Date: Before the Sun and Moon
My Mood Is: resolute

Well, the First War is over. That’s what we’re calling it because it won’t be the last, let me assure you.

We didn’t lose. We just didn’t win. It was pretty much a draw, except they lost more guys than we did. Still, like I said last time — while our side has a greater Host of Maiar than the Rebels do, they have 14 Valar, and we only have one.

I said “14.” You’re probably thinking, wait, aren’t there 13 rebel Valar, who turned against their rightful lord Melkor? Well, not any more. Eru changes the so-called “rules” whenever He damn well feels like it. And once again, our side gets the shaft.

If I never mentioned Tulkas before now, that’s because he was a person of absolutely no consequence. He’s a chthonic spirit, a being of stone and metal and brute force. He’s also really, really dumb, and I think Melkor tried to recruit him early on. It must have gone quite badly, because Melkor doesn’t talk about it.

But he never took sides in the Ainulindalë — I guess he just stood in back and hummed. He denied both Melkor and Manwë, and took no counsel but his own. When we came down into Arda, he stayed behind, to spend all eternity praising Eru and pulling his pud like the others.

We had victory in our grasp. Melkor beat back the combined force of the rebel Valar, and finally broke through to face Manwë alone. (A coward, Manwë hid behind his so-called “followers,” even the women.) Manwë ran as Melkor gave chase, stabbing at Manwë with his mighty spear, and leaving great chasms in the earth whenever he missed.

Meanwhile the Hosts, under my command, routed the Army of the Maiar. We drove them further and further south, hoping to press them against the southern firmament, and there finish them. In the form of a great werewolf, I alone slew 12 of the Maiar; Gothmog, in the guise of a balrog, eight; and Carcharoth, inspired by me to take wolf form, six.

We lost 14 of our guys, wounded until they became mere shadows, unable to take form again while the World lasts. It’s okay, it wasn’t anyone important.

So, as I say, we were winning. I was pinning down the Maiar in the south, while Melkor beat down on Manwë.

Then the Door of Night, the gate in the firmament of Arda through which we entered, and which was sealed behind us by Eru “for as long as the World lasts,” was flung open. Needless to say, we all turned and looked. There was Tulkas, clothed as a burly blond elf and wielding no weapon. He charged forth, and fell upon Melkor like an animal.

I won’t belabor what happened. Melkor lost. He was injured and drained from fighting off 13 Valar — and Tulkas fell on him without honor or mercy. (You think our side has no mercy? I spared Olórin, didn’t I?) As soon as I saw what was happening, I broke off from the southern fighting, and sped north across thousands of leagues to aid Melkor; the best among us, Gothmog and Lungorthin and Draugluin and Carcharoth, followed in my train. But we were too late.

When we arrived, Melkor had already fled. In fact, he didn’t just flee back north — Tulkas chased him out the Door of Night, and into the Outer Dark!

I couldn’t believe it. Melkor had fled Arda!

That was the end of the war. I couldn’t keep the news of Melkor’s flight from the Host — they routed, and in the end we ended up scattered and dispersed. I did my best to round up as many as I can, and soon most of the Fire and Dark spirits had rallied to me.

We no longer had a leader or a hiding place. I did not know what to do, so I led the remnants of the Host into the Outer Dark.

The Outer Dark is VERY dark. And VERY cold. There is no life in the void.

From Arda, one can’t see through the firmamment into the outer dark. But from the Dark, one can see in.

The world was utterly ruined, both our magnificent work and the so-called “improvements” of the rebels. The whole place looked like it had been thrown in a blender and pureed. Whatever a “blender” is.

After a while I found Melkor, brooding in the inky Void.

At first, I was furious with him. But then I saw what had become of Melkor, and man, was he a mess. Melkor is of course the fairest and most beautious of the Valar, being second only to Eru. But now he bears the scars of the First War, and his face is twisted by rage. Righteous rage, I feel it too.

One might be tempted to see this outcome as a complete rout. But after speaking with Melkor, I can see it was a kind impromptu strategic retreat. Right now, the Valar can neither see us nor reach us. But we can watch them, and bide our time.

So, the Valar are not yet destroyed, but only because they cheated by calling in a last-minute ringer.

Next time, they won’t take us by surprise.