Posts Tagged ‘Númenor’

#77: %$#@! &%*#!! @#$%!!!

Jan
18

Date: March 25th, 1700 S.A.
My Mood Is: fuck! shit!! damn!!!

Fuck! Shit!! Damn!!! Every time things start to go my way, it all goes to shit! And – of course – on my birthday, too!

I had Middle-earth all tied up — all tied up in a little red ribbon of flame, disease and death — when who shows up? The Númenóreans! Like, hundreds of thousands of the shiny-armored buggers in thousands of shiny ships, pouring over the horizon like shiny lemmings.

And the motherfuckers know how to fight! In just two weeks they’ve pushed my main force out of Lindon and all the way back to mid-Eriador, by the banks of the Baranduin. Now they’re slaughtering my Orcs and Wargs and Trolls and Evil Men, and the river is running red and blue with thick, chunky blood. How can people with such atrocious taste in headgear be such effective warriors?

Assholes! Go back to Westernesse where you belong! Mind your own business!

I’ve tried negotiating with this Ciryatur the Ship-Lord, the admiral sent by the Númenórean emperor to aid his buddy Gil-Galad. And by “negotiating,” I mean “tricking into going home.” But no go. And yet… and yet there’s something to these Númenóreans. Something… corruptible. I wonder if some of these Númenórean princes might like their own domains in Middle-earth, with their own magic rings…

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

Oh crap! I just lost two deathyderms and six Fell Beasts. This battle sucks — IT SUCKS!!!

You know what I miss? From the First Age? Werewolves! My boyz like Draugluin, and that other fella, what was his name… Carcharoth! Yeah, whatever happened to those guys? They wouldn’t stand still and let a bunch of stupid Sea Kings rip them to shreds in a meadow.

Oh, man. There go the last of my Watchers in the Water. I’m gonna have to retreat again.

Shit! Fuck!! Damn!!!

#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.

#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.