Posts Tagged ‘hröar’

#61: It’s a New Age — the Age of Sauron!

Apr
1

Date: January 2, 38 S.A.
My Mood Is: optimistic

Well, I’m definitely feeling better after the complete and abject disaster that was the War of Wrath. The truth is, losing Tol-in-Gaurhoth, Angband, most of my friends and servants, and especially Melkor may have been the best thing that ever happened to me.

Of course I didn’t take up Eönwë on his ridiculous offer to accept my surrender. But I’m not sorry I let him live, and Olórin and that other guy, the sniveling one. And even Melian. It’s the new Sauron — wise, merciful, and forgiving.

But anyone who thinks I’m going across the sea to Aman to kiss the speckled white ass of Manwë Súlimo can suck my werewolf schlong.

Sorry. That wasn’t the new Sauron.

Anyway. I have settled permanently in Eriador, in the western end of a massive forest, near Young Man Willow and the River Baranduin. No tower or fortress or anything, at least not yet; I’m enjoying just living amongst the trees. New Sauron and all that.

I’m done with wearing a werewolf form, actually. I have to be careful about choosing a hröa — I noticed that every time Melkor suffered a defeat, he lost part of his ability to shape-shift. Must be some piddling little rule of Eru’s that He forgot to mention — again. But as a result, I’m sticking to pleasing, Elvenoid shapes; usually a tall, handsome, dark-haired Elf of seemingly Vanyarin lineage. I’m avoiding Melkor’s whole spiky-armor giant-spaulder pointy-boot glowing-red-eyes fashion-disaster thing, and going with simple blue robes that say “I’m a really wise guy and I’m here to help you.”

See, here’s what I figure. On the one hand, the Valar have made it perfectly clear they have no interest in the proper administration and development of Middle-earth. The only time they interfere is when Melkor or I get too successful; then, wracked with jealousy, Manwë and his buddies submerge a continent. So it’s in my best interest to not attract the attention of the Valar.

On the other hand, most of Melkor’s enemies are gone. The Valar have gone home, obviously. Just about all the Noldoran Elves, and a good number of the rest of the Eldar, have left Middle-earth to go live in Aman. And all the Men who defied Melkor and aided the Valar have been relocated to an island far off across the Belegaer, where they can’t harm anyone. That just leaves a literal handful of Eldar; the Avaran Elves; a few million Men who have never heard of the Valar; and some Dwarves.

And me. The new Sauron.

So I’m going to let a few centuries pass, and let the Valar (and the remaining Eldar) forget about Sauron Gorthaur. Then I’ll reappear under a new name, and set about creating a New World Order, with Men and Elves living and working together in peace and prosperity. All under the benevolent eye of the only Maia with the steadfastness to hang around and do the right thing.

The new Sauron, Lord of the Earth. Benevolent Lord of the Earth.

Then when all the Children of Ilúvatar are on my side, we can see about getting rid of some of these trees and installing a volcano around here.

#21: We Gird For War!

Sep
17

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

It is the eve of battle. This is pretty major — there’s never been violence in the universe before. Good thing all the spirits of Chaos, Misery, Pain and Death are on our side.

The first thing we had to do was choose material forms. It would be pretty hard for us to kick Manwë’s filthy, stinking ass if we’re nothing but incorporeal metaphysical archetypes that anthropomorphize universal qualities. Nope, we have to have bodies.

Some of the manifestations our side picked are way cool. (I mentioned last time that the stupid Valar and their fuckwad followers all chose to dress as Elves.) The balrogs, for instance, have chosen the form of giant fire monsters bearing cruel flaming whips. Niiiiice. They wanted to have wings, but Melkor forbade it. Balrogs can’t fly, so giving them wings wouldn’t make such sense. Gothmog’s happy anyway, because the fire and smoke pour off their bodies into “wings of flame.”

Some of the lesser spirits have taken the form of giant vampires, or giant trolls, or giant serpents, or giant insects. Ungoliant, that weirdo, chose the form of a massive spider spinning webs of darkness. She stinks, it’s disgusting.

Melkor devised a new form for Glaurung, Smaug, and some of the other fire spirits. He won’t say what it is, and apparently it’s not ready yet. So those guys get to sit the battle out.

Melkor chose for himself a humanoid form similar to the Valar, but fifty feet tall, covered in spiked iron armor, and wearing a heavy metal helmet with two holes for his flaming eyes. His iron crown sits atop the helmet. He wields a black spear tipped with a tremendous blade that he forged himself in the hottest flames of the deepest pits. Very imposing, and very appropriate for the Lord of the Earth.

That just left me, and I had to think for a long time. I mean, we can change form any time we want — but the very first form we take kind of sets a precedent. I wanted fierce and frightening, yet fast and cunning. Oh, and I wanted teeth. Teeth are the best — sharpened protrusions of living bone that just stick out of the body, ready to rend other creatures to pieces. Believe me, teeth came out of the Music of Melkor, not Eru’s pansy-ass song that gave us posies and kittens and feminine protection products.

So I thought back on my time with Melian. She was always going on about how this tree was going to be so fascinating and that animal was going to be so pretty. All I cared about was, would the wood burn brightly and the meat taste good? But my ears pricked up when she complained about carnivores. She didn’t like the idea that some animals ate other animals. Sounded great to me.

That’s why I have chosen, as my material form, a gigantic, bloodthirsty, slavering wolf.

As a giant werewolf I’m the fastest, deadliest thing on the planet. Heck, I could give Melkor himself a go if I had the mind to. The guy can hardly move with all that armor, and dragging around his colossal spear. Good thing for him I’m loyal.

Now that we’re substantiated, we’re ready for our secret attack. We’ve been planning it for months. Whatever a “month” is.

The pits of boiling lava are ready, as well as the clouds of fumes, rock-spewing volcanoes, and hailstorms of obsidian shards. Melkor’s got the spirits all pumped up for the big day.

Tomorrow, we kill the Valar. And all the Maiar who won’t beg for mercy, and accept the status of chattel.

Even Huan. Even Melian.

#20: The Valar Are A Bunch Of Meat Monkeys

Jun
12

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

To summarize: Melkor and I got in trouble for making better music than Eru, the so-called “One.” (I have “one” asshole, that doesn’t make it special.) So Eru created a world out of our song, and let us go down to live in it. But He also sent along a bunch of useless Ainur, the so-called “Valar,” who’ve done nothing but get in our way. Now their leader Manwë , a.k.a. The Dickless Prick, has driven Melkor and me into the far north of Arda, and set about ruining everything we’ve accomplished.

The time is coming soon when Melkor will gather all the loyal fire and darkness spirits, and we will attack, driving the filthy Valar from this world. Let them sit in the Outer Dark, cold and alone. Especially Melian, that whore.

Melkor has tasked me with keeping an eye on the accursed Valar. He gives me all the important jobs because honestly, who else is he going to rely on? Ungoliant? She ran off soon after we redeployed to the north, and hasn’t been seen since. Glaurung? He’s not too bright, and anyway, Melkor has some special project for him. Gothmog? He sits in the lava pits, playing with his whips. Cripes, why did we bring any of these losers along with us?

So anyway, I’ve been snooping around invisibly, watching the Valar and Maiar as they foul up everything in Arda — “oceans” and “clouds” and “forests” and all that crap.

But here’s the most astonishing thing. And I’m not kidding — I couldn’t have made this up. The Valar and Maiar have clothed themselves in flesh, and taken the form of… primates. That’s right, Eru-damned monkeys! They’re walking around like two-legged meat sausages, eating and drinking an excreting and sweating.

It’s ridiculous! We’re frikkin’ gods, fer crissakes! Apparently, the accursed “Children of Ilúvatar” are going to be primates. Seriously! So Manwë and his brown-nosers have decided to dress up like “Elves,” and prance around in silly skin costumes. I gotta tell ya, I reported this to Melkor, and he was so surprised his iron crown fell off! We had a good, really long laugh about it.

It wasn’t so funny, though, ’cause when I was sneaking around, I saw Melian. Her Elven form is particularly… shapely, I must say. I mean, looking at her, I could see what all the fuss is about.

Stupid bitch.

Anyway, the rest of us are going to have to consider adopting fleshly forms, just to deny the Valar any advantage. One more thing to worry about.

But if anyone thinks I’m gonna start using a toilet, they have another thing coming.