Posts Tagged ‘Seven Dwarven Rings’

#79: In Which I Go on a Gift-Giving Spree

May
17

Date: June 12, 2204 S.A.
My Mood Is: crafty

Annatar, Lord of Gifts, is back in business, and business is good. I have distributed all 16 of my Rings of Power, and now I’m just waiting for the payoff.

The Dwarves were the easiest to trick — no surprise there, anything created by Aulë is going to be dumb as a post, just like its creator. All I had to do was hint to my Dwarven contacts that some magic rings were available, and the poor stupid bastards came to me.

First I got a delegation from Khazad-dûm, demanding magic rings from me — their king, Durin the Umpteenth, claimed that the rings were made with Moria-gold, and so were rightfully his. So I pretended for a while I didn’t want to give up any rings, and then “caved” to the pressure. The Khazad-dûm Dwarves got three rings, and then I gave another two to the Dwarves of Belegost and another two to Nogrod. Anyway, as long as these stumpy morons take care of their rings (and don’t let then get eaten by dragons), I will soon rule the Dwarven race!

Men have been more difficult to ensnare, as any King of Men with the power and intelligence to be worth ensaring tends to have friends amongst the accursed Elves and their Númenórean allies. But I have managed to find nine who will make useful servants — three of them are Númenórean Sea-Kings, so-called “Black Númenóreans,” whose fear of death led them to accept my rings; and one was even a woman. The first to accept a ring, El-Murazor, is now over 500 years old, and just beginning to feel “thin” and “stretched.” He can’t see it, but he’s beginning to get permanently transparent — within 50 years he’ll be a full-blown wraith. Then he’s all mine.

And when I have total control over nine Kings of Men and seven Kings of the Dwarves, the Elves will have lost all their allies in Middle-Earth. Then all I have to worry about is the damned Númenóreans, and I have a few ideas on that front. Yes, I do.

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

Well, dinner is ready, gotta go. Later tonight I’m gonna spend a few hours polishing  my Ring — it’s precious to me, and I like to spend time with it. No, that’s not weird. It’s mine, my own… my precious.

#75: I Have My Boot So Far Up Celebrimbor’s Ass He Can Smell My Toes

Nov
9

Date: June 14th, 1697 S.A.
My Mood Is: victorious

Celebrimbor Silverhand, Lord of Eregion and Maker of the Elven Rings of Power, is sitting in his bathroom, crying.

Seems he had been warned, by Galadriel and Elrond and Gil-Galad, not to trust “Annatar, Lord of Gifts.” Seems they told him not to collaborate with me. Seems they warned him not to make the Rings of Power, nor the Three Elven Rings. (Although they were happy enough to accept them!)

And now, here Celebrimbor sits, his palace in flames; the green fields and woods of Hollin razed and burned; his people slain, raped and scattered; his halls overrun with Orcs and Trolls and Wargs; and outside his bathroom door The Dark Lord, waiting patiently for him to come out and face his death.

Come on out, you silly bastard. And if you’ve got any Elven Rings in there, bring them out too.

I must say that the Mordorian War Machine has surpassed all my expectations. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I’ve enslaved and bred far more Evil Men, Orcs, Wargs, Trolls and Mûmakil than I could ever expect to use. (A Mûmak is a kind of “Dire Wooly Mammoth,” smelly but deadly. I call them “deathyderms.”) My armies are enormous. No power on Arda, not even the Valar themselves, could defy me now.

BWA HA HA HA!

I have the Orcs searching the palaces, the citadel and the countryside, looking for anything that might be a magic ring. They won’t find anything – Celebrimbor is stupid, but not that stupid. All the minor rings were here, of course, but the three biggies – Narya, Nenya, and Vilya – are hidden. But not for long.

Still, it’s necessary to keep the Orcs busy, or they start to get their own ideas.

Let me see — I’ve got 16 of the lesser rings right here, taken right from off Celebrimbor’s work table. These will be VERY useful indeed, enslaved as they all are to my Master Ring. And although the Three are hidden, those morons in Lindon don’t dare use them without revealing themselves to me.

My next step will be to consolidate my military hold on Eriador, and then take Lindon. Gil-Galad and his Noldor cronies will fall; and the Three Elven Rings will be MINE!

But first, it’s time to break down this silly bathroom door. I tire of Celebrimbor’s blubbering. I’ll crush his skull and be done with it.

Good times.