Posts Tagged ‘Barad-dûr’

#74: No, I Am Not Compensating for Anything

Oct
3

Date: March 27th, 1601 S.A.
My Mood Is: jubilant

I AM A GOD.

We all knew that, of course, but isn’t it nice to see it in person?

Ladies and Gentlemen, Slaves and Thralls, I give you — Barad-dûr, the Dark Tower! Five thousand feet tall, 1,400 rooms, 223 staircases, 118 separate prisons and torture chambers; 450 storeys from the deepest forgotten lockhole in the lowest dungeon, to the very pinnacle where my inner sanctum, the Window of the Eye, looks out over all of Mordor!

And it took a day to build! Yes, a DAY!

Of course, I spent about half a millennium gathering together the millions of tons of iron and obsidian; planning and preparing; and building the veritable city of  outbuildings that support the main structure. And there was the problem of building foundations that would support a mile-high tower. But with the ONE RING, my friends, all things are possible. I just willed the darn thing into existence, and a few hours later, there it was! It was just like the good ol’ days, before the Revolt of the Treasonous Valar, when we Ainur just made anything we wanted, whenever we wanted, from the Flame Imperishable!

I LOVE THIS RING!

Now I’m exhausted, but who cares? Once I get the Dark Tower truly up and running, I can set out in war against the insipid Elves of Eregion and their Lindonian allies. Soon all of Eriador will run red with THE BLOOD OF THE NOLDOR! AND THE ELVEN RINGS SHALL BE MINE!

Cough cough! Crap, I’m too tired for all this yelling.

The designs for the Dark Tower went through several iterations, actually. At one point it was like a 10-mile-high needle, meant to penetrate the clouds and keep watch on all Middle-earth. Then I thought of having to climb up and down one 60,000-step staircase all day long, and ditched that idea. Then I got all caught up with an article I read in an in-flight magazine, whatever that is, and decided to go ranch-style — one storey tall and 20 miles wide. That was sure stupid.

I even had a version — the plans were laid out and everything — with giant obsidian horns on the top of the tower, and I would manifest between the horns all day long as a giant flaming eye! I would look like a humongous lighthouse! Isn’t that the dumbest thing you ever heard???

No, the version I built is the best version. I have replaced my lame Annatar robes with some appropriately spiky black armor, and I shall sit at my new Window of the Eye and keep watch over my minions. And soon, when all is ready, I SHALL MARCH ON ERIADOR AND CLEANSE IT OF THE ACCURSED ELDAR!

Cough! Cough! I gotta lie down.

#73: Celebrimbor Must Pay for His Crimes

Aug
19

Date: March 26th, 1601 S.A.
My Mood Is: retributive

They took off the Rings???

Un-FUCKING-believable. All this work down the drain. And all the Elven Rings needed was a simple spell to make them impossible to remove.

And whose fault is this? Celebrimbor’s, of course! That double-dealing bastard!

Alright, Sauron, calm down. Think. You can salvage the Master Plan. The Children of Ilúvatar can still be your slaves. The Rings are still out there, all 19 of them, and they are all slaves to the Ring of Power.

What to do, what to do.

Okay, first of all, CONGRATULATE ME. This isn’t a disaster — I made the Ring of Power! With this new Ring, I am far more powerful than I was before. More powerful than stupid ol’ Melkor, even. In fact, the first thing I’m going to do is complete my Black Spiky Tower of Unimaginable Evil. I’ll think I’ll call it Lugbúrz, which is “Dark Tower” in the Black Speech; Barad-dûr in Elfy-talk. Yes, Barrrrad-dûrrrrrr — roll those “rrrs,” very nice.

Step 2: Find and kill Celebrimbor, and get back my three Elven Rings. Yes, MINE — he made them, but he used MY knowledge and MY experience to do it. And while I’m at it, I’ll take the other 16 as well. Maybe find someone who will appreciate them — some Men, or even Dwarves. (And believe me, the first thing I’ll do is add a non-removal charm!)

Step 3: Do what I should have done in the first place. Forget all this “Annatar” crapola, and lead the armies of Mordor, Harad and Rhûn in a great war against the remaining Noldoran exiles and their allies. Who’s going to stop me now, the Númenóreans? They live across the sea, and don’t give a crap about Gil-Galad and his mincing Elven cronies.

Yes. The Ring of Power is the key. It’s so beautiful, so perfect. I’ve been spending a lot of time admiring it, and why shouldn’t I? It’s the single most powerful magical artifact ever created, except maybe — MAYBE — for the stupid ol’ Silmarils, and they didn’t actually do anything except shine and drive Elves crazy.

No, the Ring of Power is what will allow me mastery over all of Arda. It’s The Shit.

Watch out, Celebrimbor, I’m coming for you.

Now, where were those architectural plans? Barrrrrrrrrad-dûrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

#70: I Have a Foolproof Plan Involving Magic Rings…

Jul
20

Date: December 25, 1502 S.A.
My Mood Is: conspiratorial

So much to do, and so few centuries to do it.

I’m ready to start building my Black Spiky Tower of Unimaginable Evil. All the pieces are in place, and I’ve pretty much cornered the Endorian market in obsidian. In the process, Mordor has shaped up nicely into a real nation. I’m especially proud that the Orcs, for so long subjugated under Melkor’s careless rule and hunted by Elves and Men, finally have an ethnic homeland of their own, where they can stand tall and proud, enslaved under my despotic theocracy.

Also, I’ve been dealing with these damned Númenóreans, by sending waves of Orcs and loyal Men to harry their coastal settlements. My people always gets slaughtered, because the Númenóreans have far better technology than they rightfully should — it seems the accursed Valar give tech to the Teleri, who pass it along to the Númenóreans. Their ships have carvel hulls with lateen rigging; they use naphtha and gunpowder; they refine steel in crucibles. This crap is all Tech Level 4, and the rest of Middle-earth is clearly Tech Level 2. It’s totally unfair.

Still, the harrying has its intended effect, and the Númenóreans have failed to expand much beyond Umbar. I hear they have explored the far reaches of the East of Middle Earth, and even seen the Gates of Morning — but who cares? I’ve seen the Gates of Morning, it’s shit.

Then there’s Celebrimbor and the Master Plan.

Remember when I said that Celebrimbor hated Galadriel? Well, turns out it’s all an act. We got drunk late one night (and by “we” I mean “he”), and he admitted that he has always been in love with her. He says she’s the most beautiful woman who ever dwelt in Arda, Lúthien Tinúviel notwithstanding. Me, I don’t see it.

Anyway, he fantasizes about replacing Celeborn as her husband, and together they rule as High King & Queen of the Noldor. “Why not of all the Elves?” I asked. Of course, this would fit in with my plans perfectly. Unfortunately, Celebrimbor views his dream all as an impossible delusion.

We’ll see about that.

I finally launched Phase One of my Master Plan. I pitched to Celebrimbor a new project: MAGIC RINGS. Lots of Elves have magical powers; Galadriel and Elrond can read minds, for instance. Why not make these powers available to all The Wise? We enchant these various Rings with specific spells — levitation, spirit sight, magic missile, psionics, invisibility, etc. Then we distribute them to those Elves worthy of using them.

Celebrimbor LOVES it. Of course he does — I designed the scheme with him in mind. We’ve already begin work.

This puts Celebrimbor in the position to decide who gets what Ring, and I’m sure this has occurred to him. He will be able to wield a great deal of political power, and not just magical power, with these Rings. Power, possibly, for Celebrimbor to grow Eregion into a real Elven nation, and to set things the way he would like them to be, in regards to Galadriel and Gil-Galad.

But this is only Phase One. Celebrimbor has no clue about PHASE TWO. The part of the plan where Annatar, Lord of Gifts is revealed as Sauron Gorthaur, Lord of the Earth. The part where Sauron becomes Master of all the Children of Ilúvatar.

Bwa ha ha. BWA HA HA. BWA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!

#69: These Númenóreans Is Getting All Up in My Biznatch

Jul
8

Date: June 6th, 1222 S.A.
My Mood Is: determined

Things are moving along very well on Project Humongous Tower. A great deal of the project to-date has had to do with infrastructure — recruiting and kidnapping Orcs and Men as laborers; building towns and cities to house them; creating farms and granaries to feed them, and aqueducts to provide water; laying roads to move goods and men; and digging quarries, hundreds and hundreds of quarries.

Now you’re probably asking, Annatar, why don’t wave your hand and will the tower in into existence? You’re Lord of the Earth, Rightful Chief of the Maiar, and Master of the Flame Imperishable. Just do your magical hoodoo and forget all this mundane crap.

Well, yes. Yes, I could do that. Easily. But there are issues.

First, if I cast a spell of that magnitude (I figure it’s a 50th Level Bigby’s Godlike Fortress), it’s like writing “Sauron Is Here” in mile-high letters above Mordor for anyone with the magical chops to read it — Galadriel, Gil-Galad, and the Valar waaaay over in Aman. And I am not ready for any of those characters to know my true identity or what I am up to.

Second, the Valar might interpret it as a hostile act, or otherwise get their panties knotted up. I’m not ready for that either.

And third, I will have to tie up a great deal of my personal power in the tower before it’s done. You can’t build a quarter-mile-high Black Spiky Tower of Unimaginable Evil and expect it to keep standing on pure engineering principles. It takes mana, and lots of it. This is going to be one hell of an enchantment; and without any other Maiar to back me up, I’ll have to provide all the mojo myself.

Now here’s the thing — and proof, by the way, that Sauron Gorthaur is smarter than Aulë, Manwë TDP, Melkor and even Eru, all put together. I need to pour a bunch of my personal power into the tower. Yet I want to keep that power, and use it for other things. Impossible, right? Having your lembas and eating it too?

Wrong. I have an idea. Let’s say I instill a good part of my fëa into some kind of magical talisman, and use that talisman to build the foundations of the tower. Then I keep the talisman with me, with my hröa, at all times. I can use the magical power wherever I go, despite the fact that it’s also holding up the tower. The power is not in the tower, nor even in me, but in the talisman. Get it?

You don’t. Well, I am the smartest entity remaining in Arda. I am doomed to never be fully understood. It is my curse.

The question is, what kind of talisman should it be? I’ll consult with Celebrimbor. He’s certainly the brightest of these confounded Elves. What a bunch of dim bulbs, sitting around eating and singing and enjoying themselves, when they could be taking over the world. The waste of potential is heartbreaking.

By the way, I discovered something alarming about a century ago. Remember when I mentioned a group of rebel Men who served the Valar, the so-called Edain? Pale, sickly-looking specimens with yellow hair who followed the Noldor around like whipped dogs? They were granted the tremendous “gift” of living on a remote island in the Belegaer, cut off from the rest of humanity and from their Elven buddies.

Well, they’re back. A bunch of these “Númenóreans” have landed and set up outposts on the shores of Middle-earth, mostly around Umbar, bringing Valinorean corn and wine with which to ply the simple Men of the coasts. They’ve even infected my beloved Haradwaith with tales of the “Noble Valar” and the “evil Sauron.”

I’ll be putting a stop to this right quick.

Sigh. I have so many things to deal with at once — the Elves, the Númenóreans, the Easterlings, the Southrons, Mordor, Celebrimbor, my magical studies. It’s SO HARD being the good guy.

#68: It’s Been a Busy Five Centuries

Jul
1

Date: November 16th, 998 S.A.
My Mood Is: exhausted

Hey everybody. Sorry I haven’t blogged in so long, but it’s been a busy five centuries.

Last time I wrote, I had just discovered Mordor and decided it would make a great secret base. Also, I had made friends with Celebrimbor, chief of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain and grandson of Fëanor.

Well, Mordor is coming along nicely. I’ve summoned all the Orcs I can find, along with some slaves from the East, and set them building and farming the arable land in the South, in Núrn. The Orcs don’t know I’m Sauron, because they might spill it to the Men who might spill it to the Elves. But the Orcs do what I say anyway, because I can make them HURT if they don’t.

Meanwhile, I’ve been drawing up plans for a tower – a HUGE tower, one that will make Tol-in-Gaurhoth seem like a child’s model. It will require millions of slaves and a lot of magical power to build, more power than I can summon at once at the moment. But I’ve been thinking about a way around that.

I’ve also been making occasional visits to Rhûn and the Haradwaith, to keep those Men under my dominion. Everything is going well there — sometimes the Southrons rise up against me, but a simple genocide or two keeps them in line.

Then there’s Celebrimbor. I haven’t been able to hang out with him as much as I would like, but I have learned many, many interesting things from him. Turns out Galadriel had warned him about me; but Celebrimbor does not like Galadriel or trust her. First off, Fëanor couldn’t stand her, which just makes me wish even more that Gothmog hadn’t turned Fëanor into Elf-jelly so I could have met him.

Second, there’s something of a succession issue amongst the Noldor. An argument can be made that Galadriel or Celebrimbor himself should be “High King of the Noldor,” and not Gil-Galad. I don’t follow all the details because yawn. Galadriel wants the job, but apparently agreed to Gil-Galad’s succession along time ago and can’t go back on her word. Celebrimbor has no interest in being king, since it would take time away from his work — but he’s hung up on the legalities, and resents Gil-Galad as a usurper.

Verrrry interesting. If I could get Celebrimbor installed as High King, that would make me Advisor to the High King – in other words, High King. I need to find a way to (1) make Celebrimbor more powerful than Galadriel and Gil-Galad combined, but still less powerful than me and (2) make sure he will do as I say and not betray me. Like I said in my last post, you can’t trust anybody. And power corrupts, just look at Manwë the Dickless Prick sorry, Penis-free Jerk. Language.

Another thing I’ve learned is that Celebrimbor is obsessed with recreating the Silmarils. It took a while for him to open up about this, as Galadriel and Gil-Galad both have come down on him for it. I encouraged him; but secretly, I think it’s a terrible idea. Those stupid rocks just drove people crazy, even Melkor, who stapled them to his head and walked around like a giant track lighting feature, whatever that is. Fact is, I could show Celebrimbor how to extract the Pure and Eternal Essence of Light Itself from the electromagnetic radiation of the Sun and Moon, and together we might even suss out how to refract that Essence permanently into a gem. But it seems like a lot of work for nothing but tsuris.

Well, I’d better go. Celebrimbor is tired of working on weapons, and wants to practice making jewelry. I guess we can do that for a while.

#66: It’s a Fixer-Upper, But I Think I’ll Take It

Jun
11

Date: January 1, 701 S.A.
My Mood Is: ecstatic

Happy New Year and New Century!

The Men of Middle Earth count the current “Second Age” calendar from the Sinking of Beleriand by the faithless and lunatic Valar. Most Men never saw nor heard of Beleriand of course, but they did notice the massive earthquakes and weather disruptions when their entire continent shifted 300 feet to the left. And by Second Age, they mean the era after the glorious First Age, when Melkor was rightful Lord of the Earth.

Some idiot Men wanted to celebrate the end of the century in 699, but I set them straight. It’s called math, people!

Anyway. I’m no longer in Harad, but let me tell you about it before I get to the big news. After I spent some time lording it over the Easterlings, I left them with my hand-picked priesthood in charge, and very specific instructions to keep building armies and preparing fortifications. This is for their own protection – you never know when some crazy Elven exiles from Valinor will show up demanding shiny rocks and killing everyone whose skin doesn’t have an albedo over 70%.

I traveled south to the Haradwaith, a dusty desert land ruled by the hearty Haradrim. Let me tell you, these people can build a freakin’ pyramid. They were harder to bring around to my way of thinking than the Easterlings, being prideful and devoted to the worship of Námo in various mythological guises. Killing the Haradrim indiscriminately didn’t do anything to gain their loyalty, as they all thought they were going to a blissful eternity in the Halls of Mandos. Yeah, right – as if the Valar would condescend to let the Younger Children of Ilúvatar set foot in Aman, much less hang out in the “blissful” little slice of Hell that is the Elven afterlife.

In the end it was money that brought them around. I taught them how to mine for gold, which they had never seen before; and then how to trade with the Easterlings for jewels, which were also a novelty. Now the Haradrim adorn their graves with the riches of the East and dedicate them to me, which is nice.

But I had been gone from Eriador for a long time; and I missed the forest, believe it or not, and Young Man Willow. Plus, I did not want to leave the Elves out of my plans for too long — I still needed a plan to deal with them. So, leaving my proxies behind as sheiks, I set out to return to Eriador.

My Haradrim friends warned me to avoid something they called the “Fenced Land,” a vast plain surrounded by mountains that sat smack in the middle of my way home. Intrigued, I decided to check it out.

Holy Crapping Eru. Friends, I am HOME.

I mean, forget Tol Sirion, that was a freaking marsh. Angband? Nice, and pretty impressive for its era, but in the end it failed, didn’t it? Utumno? Yeah, that was just a big hole in the ground.

This place, this “Fenced Land” — well first of all it’s not a “plain,” it’s a whole country. It’s roughly square, about 300 miles by 200 miles; and there are high, tall mountains on three sides, North, South and West — all the directions the Valar might attack from.

Much of the plain itself is covered with various kinds of unpleasantness — forests, glades, glens, brooks, reflecting pools, meadows, blah blah blah, all stuff I can get rid of. But there’s water, which I now understand is important if you need servants (remind me to tell you about that little disaster back when we first set up in Angband — hundreds of Orcs dead of dehydration, and we had no idea what was going on). In fact there’s a big inland sea in the South.

But best of all, and here’s the kicker — in the northwest of the land, there’s a volcano. A big ‘ol beautiful active subduction stratovolcano, just like Pappy Sauron used to make, right where the Belegaer Plate slams into the Endorian Plate, forming the Ephel Dúath. It’s magnificent.

I have no recollection of the making of any of this. It may have been formed by the collapse of the Two Lamps at the end of the Second War. Who knows? But if I had sat down and designed my own country to rule over, a country that could also serve as a fortress, I could not have done a better job.

This is exactly the stroke of good fortune I’ve been waiting for. I’m going to call it Mordor, the “Black Land,” because of all the lovely volcanic obsidian.

I forgot to mention there are some Orcs already living here, refugees from Beleriand who fled before the War of Wrath, an act of faithlessness for which they will have to pay with sincere apologies, community service, and prolonged beatings. Also there are some Men here, the descendants of Edain who refused to fight with the Noldor. That’s good because it means I don’t have to feed the Orcs.

My plan is beginning to come together. First it’s time to return West, see what the Elves have been up to in my absence, and check if they’re more receptive to the overtures of Annatar, Lord of Gifts. Then we’ll see.

Mordor is SO COOL!