Posts Tagged ‘Fëanor’

#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.

#67: Meet My New Best Friend, Celebrimbor

Jun
23

Date: July 12th, 701 S.A.
My Mood Is: full of camaraderie

I don’t usually make friends, because it always turns out badly. My first friend ever, back in the Timeless Halls of Eru Ilúvatar, was Huan, that total idiot who betrayed me to the Valar traitors.

Then there was Melkor, whose was like a best friend, big brother, and boss all rolled into one. I have a lot to be grateful to Melkor for — too bad he was also a total idiot, and got his stupid ass exiled to the Outer Dark.

There was Melian, and the less said about Melian, the better.

And finally I had Carcharoth, who was to me what I was to Melkor — friend, brother, aide-de-camp. That idiot got a Silmaril ulcer, and then his ass killed by Huan, thereby proving what I always suspected; you can’t rely on anyone.

So Annatar, Lord of Gifts hasn’t had any friends to-date, unless you count Young Man Willow, which is pretty silly, because he’s a tree. A sentient, malevolent tree, but still.

All that has changed. About six months ago I was on my way back home through Eriador, wondering what I was going to do to get Gil-Galad and Galadriel around to my way of thinking, when I noticed an Elven settlement in Eregion, a woody area in the shadow of the Misty Mountains, just West of the Dwarven city of Hadhodrond. (I was going to say “great Dwarven city of Hadhodrond,” but if you’ve ever seen a Dwarven city, you’ll know the work is highly overrated. Big rooms full of unnecessary columns? Bottomless pits that serve no purpose, right in the middle of a room? Endless stairs leading nowhere? Pointless. But I digress.)

Now, Gil-Galad and Galadriel never mentioned an Elven city in Eregion. I knew it was Elven, rather than Mannish, because it was made of white stone, beautifully designed (for non-Maiar), and didn’t stink of sewage. So I stopped by.

The city is called Ost-in-Edhil, the “Fortress of the Elves,” which is laughably pretentious, considering the Elven predilection for exposed rooms, low railings, and a complete lack of military preparedness. It’s the home of something called the Gwaith-i-Mírdain or Guild of the Smiths, a society of rather clever Elves dedicated to learning the secrets of Aulë, the Retard God of Smithcraft.

Their leader is named Celebrimbor, and he is the only living grandson of Fëanor, the batcrap crazy Elf who created the Silmarils and got stomped to death by Gothmog. Celebrimbor has inherited his grandfather’s talent, intelligence, and most importantly, his willfulness. When Beleriand was destroyed and the Valar offered all the remaining Noldor the chance to return to Valinor, Celebrimbor told them where to stick their offer.

Now one of the reasons I failed to make a positive impression on the other Noldoran exiles was my lack of a decent backstory for Annatar. Galadriel especially was suspicious, although I don’t think she ever suspected my true identity. So I had been thinking about what to say, and what I came up with was perfect for Celebrimbor and his Guild.

What’s more, it’s pretty much true — Celebrimbor is smarter than Gil-Galad and Galadriel put together and multiplied by ten, so he might detect a lie. I said I was a Wizard (well I am pretty wizard) from the Uttermost West (I have in fact visited there), a Maia of Aulë (I worked under him in the Timeless Halls) sent to aid the Elves and Men of Middle-earth (sent by myself, but I didn’t mention that).

And it worked! They totally bought it. At once they offered me gold, mithril and jewels if I would teach them the secrets of Aulë. I didn’t mention that the so-called “secrets of Aulë” are in fact the secrets of Sauron, and that they were learning from the true source. But I can bide my time, until all the truth is revealed.

Celebrimbor is an exceptionally cool guy. He hangs on my every word, and he’s an excellent student. So far I have showed him how to make a proper blast furnace, mithril filigree, tempered steel blades, and a wankel rotary engine.

We have plans to work on a bunch of projects together, most of them metalworking, but also some engineering, architecture, alchemy and even calligraphy. It is great to find someone I can finally have intelligent conversation with. I mean, Carcharoth was loyal, but the repartee at dinner in Tol-in-Gaurhoth was hardly Algonquin Round Table-quality, whatever that is.

This is so great. Soon I’ll have a whole city of brilliant, specially-trained Elves under my control. Then we’ll see what Gil-Galad and Galadriel have to say to that!

#45: Why Does Everyone Care So Much About These Idiotic Rocks?

May
15

Date: April 2nd, 1 F.A. (Years of the Sun)
My Mood Is: annoyed

Well, Melkor and I have managed to spew enough smoke, vapors, filth and obtenebration out over the northern lands that we can move about freely during the day without worrying about that bitch Arien seeing what we’re doing, or burning us with her terrible light. We do not like the Yellow Face, as the Orcs call it.

Anyway, after learning what I did from that Elf chained to that rock, I immediately sought out Melkor. It wasn’t hard — all he does is sit in the Uttermost Pits of Angband, sulking.

I made him show me these “Silmarils,” and tell me the whole story over again. He’s got them set into a great iron crown, which apparently he was taking off and hiding from me whenever I came around. What is he, 12 years old?

It seems that if Melkor hadn’t gotten his panties in a bunch about these idiotic rocks, Beleriand would not be overrun with so-called “Noldor” even as we speak. Regular Elves are pretty easy to kill (unless that bitch Melian is watching their backs), but these Noldor suckled at the Valar teat for thousands of years (or what would have been years, if there had been a Sun), and are pretty powerful. Certainly, not powerful enough to defeat us, by any stretch — but powerful enough to be very annoying.

Now we’re gonna have to dig them out of their hidey holes and regain political control of Middle Earth. As if I didn’t have enough to do. It might take centuries!

But the thing I don’t get is these Silmarils. What’s the big deal?

This Fëanor guy, who sounds like he might have been pretty cool if he’d been on our side, created these three glowing crystals out of the Light of the Idiotic Trees. Indeed, it seems that the Stinking Valar Traitors might have been able to use the Silmarils to heal the trees, if Fëanor hadn’t refused to give them up. Good for him.

But why Melkor chose to steal the Shiny Rocks of Stupidity is beyond me. In fact, if he had just left them for the Valar, they could have resuscitated the trees, and we wouldn’t have to hide from a Sun or a Moon. Good work, Melkor!

But it’s not just Melkor who is obsessed with these rocks. Apparently Fëanor’s sons are hot to get the stones back; and all the various Balrogs and Trolls and Orcs and all love to go down to the Throne Room and stare at the Iron Crown. Why? (Actually, it’s not so much of a Throne Room as a Throne Pit. Well, just a Pit.)

I’ve examined them closely, and it seems the Silmarils have some strange property that causes almost everyone, Vala, Maia or Mortal, to obsessively desire to possess them. It’s weird, because the stones aren’t evil — there’s no Evil in them whatsoever.

I’m immune, but I’m not sure why. It could be important, I’ll have to figure it out.

Wait — Carcharoth says there’s some kind of awful Elven caterwauling coming from Thangorodrim. I’d better check it out.

#44: Melkor is Keeping Secrets from Me!

Apr
24

Date: March 25th, 1 F.A. (Years of the Sun)
My Mood Is: betrayed

Today is my birthday. And it’s ruined!

Yeah yeah yeah, okay, how can I, Sauron Gorthaur, Chief of the Maiar, Master of Angband and Lord of Werewolves, who was made at the hand of Eru Ilúvatar in the Timeless Halls in the Days Before Days, have a birthday?

I’d like to say I determined it through some fancy calculation based on esoteric knowledge known only to the Ainur. But in fact, I picked it myself when I was hiding in the East during the Imprisonment of Melkor. It cheered me up to celebrate my birthday, and gift myself with a meal of raw Elf-flesh.

Anyway. Today was my birthday, but I was working, checking the outer defenses of Angband. It seems the Valar, perturbed by Melkor’s escape, have doubled the fortifications around Valinor, making their mountains extra tall with slippery slides you can’t climb. This is utterly ridiculous, since (1) they left an ungated entrance right smack dab in the middle of the wall, so their Elvish pets can get in and out, and (2) WE CAN SHIFT SHAPE AND FLY. Morons.

But I was double-checking the walls, climbing along the peaks of Thangorodrim when I came upon something astonishing — there was an Elf chained to one of the peaks!

WTF???

So I talked to him. His name is Maedhros, and intimidated by the Terror of My Eyes, he started blabbing his whole story, which was pretty much based on being sorely mistreated by this fellow called “Morgoth.”

It took me a while to figure out that “Morgoth” is Melkor. Yes, this was one of those idiot Elves who went across the sea to go be willing slaves and captives of the Valar. Apparently, they’re back — at least, some of them.

One of them was called Fëanor, who had these jewels that Melkor really, really wanted. (Can you imagine? A being of our divine stature, obsessed with a piece of jewelry? How stupid is that? What is wrong with Melkor nowadays???) So I guess Melkor killed some king, stole the jewels, and fled to Angband.

This Fëanor and his friends followed, and want to get the jewels back. Apparently they did a lot of evil shit along the way — Fëanor sounds like he might have been kind of a cool guy, for an Elf.

Anyway, Fëanor arrives in Beleriand, and is immediately attacked by an army of Orcs. He prevails, and raising an army of his own, and begins to march on Angband (ha!). He’s attacked again, and this time, Gothmog kills him.

Then Melkor actually sent ambassadors to negotiate with Fëanor’s sons. Remember the last time we negotiated? With mortals? Neither do I!

There’s another battle, and the Elves are slain or forced to flee. But this guy, Maedhros, eldest son of Fëanor, was captured, and Melkor chained him to the mountain.

Now, the problem with all this is I KNEW NOTHING ABOUT IT. Why on Middle-Earth would Melkor send out an army without me to lead them? We only ever lose battles when Melkor is in charge! I never lose!

I’ll tell you why. Because when Melkor first got back from Valinor and tried to tell me about all the shenanigans he got into with Elves out there, I made fun of the idea that Anthropomorphic Manifestations of Eternal Verities, like us, would ever give a flying crap about anything one of the “Children of Ilúvatar” did or said. It’s like you, dear reader, worrying about what a hill of ants thinks of you.

I think Melkor was embarrassed after telling me about it. And now he didn’t want to tell me that these idiotic Elves had followed him home.

I’m going to go talk to Melkor about this. You know, things were really a lot better before he came back. No Valinorian super-Elves with bright eyes, no freakin’ Sun or Moon. All because he killed those idiotic trees and stole some jewels.

Hmn. I want to see these jewels. I can’t imagine they’re worth all this trouble.