#33: A Minor Setback

Dec
21

Date: Before the Sun and Moon, but after the Count of Time began
My Mood Is: resigned

As you know, we just spent the last eon preparing for the third and final war against the stinking rebel Valar. Now one would think that with all this preparation, with all our forces rested, equipped and marshaled, with not one but two mighty fortresses, and with right on our side, we might have managed to hold off a surprise Valar assault.

Except we didn’t.

My spies tell me it was Oromë, an unrepentant drunk with an anger management problem, who discovered the Elves after we did. As you know, we invited a bunch of the little dipshits to Utumno, where they are undergoing improvements. But I guess some of the ingrate Elves complained to Oromë, who fled back to Manwë and told him we were being mean to the pointy-eared morons.

So Manwë finally grew a set of balls and the Valar marched out to attack. We met them in the northeast of Middle Earth, and the battle was fierce. I was almost destroyed, the Valar and their Maiar slaves fought so fiercely. They spent millennia ignoring Middle-Earth and hiding behind their mountains, but the moment some stupid Elves get inconvenienced, the Valar come running? What the hell is up with that?

In the end, it was a rout, and we had to retreat to Utumno. The great walls of Utumno have held the Valar at bay for the moment, while we sit in the pit and nurse our wounds. Melkor sits in the Uttermost Depths, sulking. I really, really hate to admit it, but I’m beginning to think that maybe Melkor doesn’t always know what he’s doing.

Oh shit, the Valar just came over the tops of the walls. I gotta go.

 

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