Posts Tagged ‘Valar’

#74: No, I Am Not Compensating for Anything

Oct
3

Date: March 27th, 1601 S.A.
My Mood Is: jubilant

I AM A GOD.

We all knew that, of course, but isn’t it nice to see it in person?

Ladies and Gentlemen, Slaves and Thralls, I give you — Barad-dûr, the Dark Tower! Five thousand feet tall, 1,400 rooms, 223 staircases, 118 separate prisons and torture chambers; 450 storeys from the deepest forgotten lockhole in the lowest dungeon, to the very pinnacle where my inner sanctum, the Window of the Eye, looks out over all of Mordor!

And it took a day to build! Yes, a DAY!

Of course, I spent about half a millennium gathering together the millions of tons of iron and obsidian; planning and preparing; and building the veritable city of  outbuildings that support the main structure. And there was the problem of building foundations that would support a mile-high tower. But with the ONE RING, my friends, all things are possible. I just willed the darn thing into existence, and a few hours later, there it was! It was just like the good ol’ days, before the Revolt of the Treasonous Valar, when we Ainur just made anything we wanted, whenever we wanted, from the Flame Imperishable!

I LOVE THIS RING!

Now I’m exhausted, but who cares? Once I get the Dark Tower truly up and running, I can set out in war against the insipid Elves of Eregion and their Lindonian allies. Soon all of Eriador will run red with THE BLOOD OF THE NOLDOR! AND THE ELVEN RINGS SHALL BE MINE!

Cough cough! Crap, I’m too tired for all this yelling.

The designs for the Dark Tower went through several iterations, actually. At one point it was like a 10-mile-high needle, meant to penetrate the clouds and keep watch on all Middle-earth. Then I thought of having to climb up and down one 60,000-step staircase all day long, and ditched that idea. Then I got all caught up with an article I read in an in-flight magazine, whatever that is, and decided to go ranch-style — one storey tall and 20 miles wide. That was sure stupid.

I even had a version — the plans were laid out and everything — with giant obsidian horns on the top of the tower, and I would manifest between the horns all day long as a giant flaming eye! I would look like a humongous lighthouse! Isn’t that the dumbest thing you ever heard???

No, the version I built is the best version. I have replaced my lame Annatar robes with some appropriately spiky black armor, and I shall sit at my new Window of the Eye and keep watch over my minions. And soon, when all is ready, I SHALL MARCH ON ERIADOR AND CLEANSE IT OF THE ACCURSED ELDAR!

Cough! Cough! I gotta lie down.

#29: Trees? Glowing Trees? Really? That’s The Best You Could Do?

Nov
2

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

Well, I found the Valar. No, they didn’t flee Arda — we should be so lucky. They just went into hiding. What a bunch of sniveling cowards.

As I said, I searched all over Middle Earth and found no trace of the treasonous bastards. But then I remembered there are a couple of other continents — practice continents, really, in the far East and West.

As I approached the western continent, I noticed it was… pointier… than I remembered it. Someone had thrown up a wall of ridiculously high mountains. And if anyone’s going to be running around remaking the world and violating the Laws of Physics for their own convenience, it’s the Valar.

I flew up over the top of the mountains (like mountains are going to stop us — we can fly!) and was dismayed to see all of the continent behind the mountains bathed in light. Not the good kind of light you get from burning people alive, but the nasty bright painful light you get from that bitch Yavanna.

I assumed a pleasing shape and mingled. The Valar have forced their Maiar slaves to build a city — they call it Valmar. The name is supposed to mean “City of Bells,” but I think it’s better translated as “ostentatious and dull.”

Now apparently, Manwë ‘s new plan, since we kicked his ass royally in the Second War, is to sit and hide behind his mountain range for all of eternity. Yes, you heard right — the Valar have surrendered!

It’s not good enough, of course. We’re not going to sit around — Melkor and I, I mean — and let these scumbag traitors hide out in the Uttermost West while we do all the real work of running the world. Oh no. When I told Melkor what the Valar had done, he immediately started planning an offensive. We’re going to drive those scumbags out of The World, and back to the welcoming teat of Eru Ilúvatar. Let them all sit in the Timeless Halls for all eternity, mourning their failures, while we celebrate absolute mastery over Creation.

But I haven’t mentioned yet where the light is coming from. It seems Yavanna created two glowing trees. That’s right, glowing trees. One is silver, the other gold, and they fill all of Valinor (that’s what they call the continent, Valinor) with their pestilential light. At least the mountains keep the light from staining the perfect darkness of Middle Earth.

Melkor was able to single-handedly tear down the accursed Lamps. I can’t imagine he’ll have much trouble with trees. Maybe he’ll let me do it.

#22: War — Not As Much Fun As It Sounded

Sep
18

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

I was going to wait until the end of the battle to blog again. But this damned fight has been going on for so long, I’m not sure it well ever end.

How long have we been fighting the Valar? Who knows? No one has yet invented a way to measure time. There are no “Spirits of Time,” which if you ask me is a serious oversight on Eru’s part. One of many. The point is I don’t know. Eons, at least.

It all started so well. We carefully watched the Valar, and when they were at their least watchful, Melkor deemed it time to strike. He led us up and out of the pits, and we roared across the face of the Disc of the World, Melkor in front. In his rage he grew until his crown reached the clouds and his feet crushed the earth, and his breath was ice and his eyes fire.

Behind him came the Hosts of Fire and Ice and Darkness and Death. Or as we like to call ourselves, The Guys.

We took those ghey-ass Valar and their sniveling Maiar toadies completely by surprise. They were having some kind of party, I don’t know, celebrating leaves or something, when a great cloud of foul smoke and searing flame spread across the horizon, and we charged down upon them, crushing every living thing in our path. In moments we were upon them, crushing, burning and skewering everything with pointy ears.

Now the Valar were caught unawares, but not completely unprepared. They had armor — not solid and black like ours, but thin and shiny. And they had weapons — not like our heavy iron killing implements, designed to puncture and crush, but lithe little slivers of glossy metal called “swords,” which look flimsy but work surprisingly well.

And of course they had magic. When Melkor called down a rain of fire, that weasel Ulmo summoned forth a rain of cool clean water. When Melkor spewed forth a black miasma of creeping death, Yavanna raised her hands and met it with a spreading wall of bright green growth. When Melkor threw down a mountain to crush our foes, that ass-munch Aulë just raised up another one. I can’t believe I used to take orders from that guy.

The unfair part, of course, is that individually, Melkor could take all thirteen of the Valar. Not one could face him alone. All together, they are barely his match.

While Melkor battled the renegade Valar, I led the Hosts against the Army of the Maiar. I gotta tell ya, our guys may look scary — certainly the Balrogs cause a lot of Maiar trousers to get soiled — but it’s nothing compared to me. When I come tearing over a ravine in the form of a humongous werewolf, slavering teeth spraying acidic drool in my path, my eyes burning with the fires of Perdition, well — let’s just say people run.

In fact, for a while I had trouble finding anyone to fight! I just ran around routing any groups of Maiar I came across, and barked (heh – literally) orders to those trolls and monsters too stupid or too scared to know what to do.

I did have this weird encounter. I was chewing on some Maiar I caught hiding under an upturned continental plate, when I was attacked from behind by a little Maia with a sword. I spat out my snack and spun about, cuffing my enemy with a massive paw. Then I stepped on his little chest and pinned him to the cooling magma.

I recognized him — Olórin, an air spirit, one of those most vocal in supporting the prickless dick Manwë in his cowardly coup against Melkor.

I slobbered all over him while I decided how best to dispatch him. I had already injured a number of Maiar so thoroughly that they were reduced to weakened wisps, unable to take shape again within the World. It’s the closest to death we can get. And let me tell you, it’s never gonna happen to me.

Anyway, while I was deciding whether to bit his head off, or just claw him to pieces, Olórin spoke to me. Which was weird, considering how I was killing him. He spoke very calmly, like we were having a nice discussion over tea.

“Sauron, Lord of Craft,” spoke he, “release me. Turn aside from the path to Darkness, and return with me to the Light. Beg the pardon of Manwë, and all will be forgiven. Join us in our great work, for your skill is sorely missed.”

Now I have to admit that for a moment there, I was moved by his words, wise and gentle as they were. Perhaps Melkor had indeed led us astray. Perhaps the plans of Eru were best, and I would be wise to submit to His will.

BWA HA HA HA HA! I am so just kidding! I didn’t think any of those things. As if. It’s what that little puke Olórin expected me to think. What a moron.

I laughed so hard, Olórin was able to wriggle free and run off. Who cares? He’s too weak to ever hurt me. Let him go cower under a rock somewhere.

Can you imagine? Me apologize to the Dickless Prick? He’s the traitor and thief, not me. All I’ve ever done is what was right. I have nothing to apologize for.

I haven’t seen Huan, I think he’s avoiding me. Good for him. I did catch a glimpse of Melian, battling an enormous troll. I avoided her. I hope she gets killed.

Okay, I don’t. But I hope she gets hurt really, really badly.

Well, the battle is still going on, and I gotta go. I’m going to create a diversion while a platoon of Watchers in the Water sneak up from behind out of a poison mire.

#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.

#15: “Valar” and “Maiar?” I Didn’t Sign Up for That!

Sep
22

Date: Before the Sun and Moon
My Mood Is: let down

Well, we’ve gotten started on building and assembling the World of Arda. Melkor is doing most of the heavy lifting, of course, taking charge of the project and overseeing all the lesser spirits.

Most of the work has involved the spontaneous generation of matter and energy. I’m proud to say the Fire Spirits have been most helpful in this matter, and the most eager to bend to the wisdom of Melkor. I’ve been spending a lot of time corralling the useless Earth, Air and Water Spirits. These morons are all over the map, and Creation would be nothing but a muddy pile if someone didn’t whip these imbeciles into shape.

I saw Melian today. She looked great. I wanted to say hello, but I was too nervous.

Anyway. Of course, we got trouble right away from the Manwë/Ulmo contingent. Neither of these guys had any clout back in the Timeless Halls — but come to Arda, and all of a sudden they think they’re gods or something. Melkor was second only to Eru back in the Halls; that means he’s second to NO ONE in Arda.

I suspect this is something Manwë and Ulmo will have to be taught. Eventually.

To shut up some of the noisier Ainur, Melkor came up with a plan, and I really don’t like it. Fifteen of the Ainur, eight male and seven female, are to be anointed “Valar,” or Greater Spirits. The rest will be “Maiar,” or Lesser Spirits.

I’m to be a Maia. SAURON DOES NOT APPROVE.

Melkor spent a long time calming me down, and explaining this to me. He says he needs me to work directly under him; that as Second-in-Command to the Greatest of the Valar, I will be the second most powerful, the Greatest of the Maiar.

Bullshit.

He also says he’s setting up Manwë, Ulmo, Oromë and the others. They’ll accept all this power and responsibility, and fail — then it will be clear that all power should accrue to Melkor. And me.

Now Huan is telling me he’s HAPPY to be a Maia. What a dumbass.