Posts Tagged ‘Hound of Valinor’

#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.