Dawn of a Different Age - Part 2

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Just when you thought it was safe to get notices again!  We're back with a second episode  of a somewhat modern spoof of our own beloved Dawn of the 4th Age rp, as it might have been...if Mandos had a trailer park, or Eonwe a mustang...nevermind...you've been warned :)

Lihan Taifun

MANWË'S ERRAND-BOY

“It's complicated,” Nienna explained to the garden gnome.

Complicated because  Aulë was her cousin, sort of.  Although no one could remember exactly how they were related.
 
Complicated because  Námo, who ran the Halls of Mandos Trailer Park, was her brother. 

Y'see, a long time ago Námo had had this bad-crazy tenant Melkor.  Maybe “tenant” wasn't the right word; it was more like he was under house arrest here.  After this Melkor convinced the parole board to release him  (BAD idea, such a bad idea … but back to the story …) the trailer had smelled SO bad that Námo had just locked it up and left it.  But then Aulë had been doing some repairs here at the park, and somehow it had ended up that Námo hired Aulë to clean up that old trailer.  Probably Manwë had been involved in the decision, somehow.  He usually was.  Manwë was another “cousin” that no one could explain how he was related.  As near as she could tell, Manwë was everybody's “cousin”.  And what Manwë wanted usually happened.  It wasn't as bad as that sounded.  Manwë was a levelheaded guy, and his plans were nearly always good plans.  Except pressuring the parole board to release Melkor that one time.  She took another drag, and willed herself to forget that she herself had argued loudly in Melkor's favor at that hearing.

So Aulë had been cleaning up this trailer, which was really a haz-mat job!  It must have been really potent stuff Melkor was cooking up, something that made meth look like instant mashed potatoes, in comparison.  And all this going on right under the parole board's nose, too. The police, looking at the place afterwards, never found any traces they could take to a lab.  Just stacks loose notes -- notes on odd pieces of paper, notes on pages of telephone books, notes scrawled on the wallpaper, even -- how in the name of Mandos did he get up there? -- notes scrawled on the ceiling.  And the whole place reeked.  Not just the ordinary reek of mildew and moldy towels and unwashed dishes and month-old trash and clogged plumbing.  All that, triple-time, of course.  But also a clinging, nauseatingly sweet chemical smell, which must have been old Melkor's secret recipe.  "It was," she said wisely to the gnome, "the smell of those old pains that people cling to, rather than have to give them up and start anew."

Aulë had pulled out everything -- the furniture, the carpet, everything -- and hauled it down to the dump.  A couple of his boys who had been helping him load the pickup had gotten sick, just from breathing the air in there, and the mold and all.  But Aulë stuck with it.   And he had scrubbed and chipped and bleached and sanded and painted, until the place looked pretty decent again.  And then he decided he liked it so much, now that it was fixed up, that he moved right in himself.  Spent more time here than he did at his regular place, and certainly more than he spent at Yavanna's.

That was about when Eönwë showed up.  Not at the beginning, when it might have made a difference, no.  He came roaring down the drive, rather faster than the posted 10 mph, in that red '67 mustang he is so proud of, spraying gravel from the tires on every curve, and the radio cranked up full, on some country western channel.  And he swaggers up to the door, and pounds on it hard enough to leave a dent.  And when Aulë opens the door, Eönwë puffs himself up, and says "Manwë wants you to bring him all of Melkor's notes.  And all his samples." 

Aulë, of course, says, "Too late.  All those notes went down to the dump months ago.  I got the whole place cleaned up, now.  Look for yourself."  And he looks at Eönwë shrewdly, and says, "Why does Manwë decide NOW that he wants them?  And you know, and Manwë knows, that there never were any samples.  The police were all over this place, and there never were any 'samples'."

Eönwë says, "You lie! You scum, you're just trying to hold out on Manwë ..."
And Aulë punches him, and Eönwë pulls a knife … "and why am I telling you this," Nienna asks the gnome.  "You were here.  You heard it all."  She waves a hand dismissively.  "Too much testosterone, if you ask me."  But in the end Eönwë had stormed off again, empty-handed, and Eru Ilúvatar only knows what he told old Manwë when he got back!  Or what Manwë thought, when his biggest bravo came home with his eye blackened.

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What Evil is This?

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 Cinnamon Raymaker

As she feels the air currents lifting her higher, Elwing looks down at the earth below, seeing some familiar mountain landmarks and feeling a great sense of loss for the places she knew were no longer above the seas in the mortal world. She begins to complete a final circle into the current she instinctively knows will take her speedily on her way and says goodbye to the land as she speeds on to the west across the expanse of ocean between the Blue Mountains and the realms of Vana and Sylvhara.

Elwing's mind begins to dwell on the time she passed over Vana and had been assailed by menacing dark forces which pressed in on her consciousness as they physically forced her from the sky. Fortunately, the light of day still shines brightly around her, which somewhat eases her sense of foreboding about a return crossing. Her eyesight peeled to the landscape far below, she notes the rhythmic forces of Lord Ulmo's kingdom as the swells ebb and flow. The play of Lord Manwe's breezes on the very caps of the waves appeals to her sense of oneness with the natural world. A lightness of spirit fills her heart, and she soars through the skies believing she is almost hearing the songs of Eru Iluvatar! Hope for the return of her beloved, and with him the precious silmaril, begins to build within her heart and inwardly she smiles at the thought.

After the passing of a few hours, Elwing spies the rocky coastline of Vana and the spread of the kingdom of Sylvhara, leagues further on. A sense of foreboding hits her again as she remembers the darkness and the feeling of her skin crawling at the discoveries she made while exploring the deep inner caverns of Vana. She drops altitude a little at the thought of being pulled from the sky by that dark menace once again, but this time perhaps falling to her death on the rocky outcrop below. As she flies by, she sees the small cooking fires burning brightly and the bloom of flowers upon the land. It seems things have improved since last she was here. Though she again begins to wonder what has happened to the awkward but noble young Teleri fisherelf, Nimros, who had disappeared so suddenly.

Shaking her thoughts back to the moment, she notices in the distance a huge spiral of smoke and flames whirling up into the air. Knowing she will have time to return to Alqualonde before she becomes exhausted, Elwing veers to the north to investigate further. As she does so, she ascends to a higher altitude to make sure those on the ground below cannot easily spy her. From this altitude she will also be able to see the extent of the disturbance.

After a few minutes, she approaches the source of the hellish spiral and what she sees disturbs her greatly. Buildings hewn into myriad piles of rubble. Huge jagged gashes cut through both buildings and the earth. The countless bodies of the unfortunate residents of this place lying in piles of blood and charcoal: body parts scattered all over the seared ground. Elwing feels the radiated heat rising from the devastation just as she sees the source of this carnage departing the scene - Balrog! Demon of fire, servant of Morgoth.

"Blessed Iluvatar! What evil is this which is happening in the world?" she thinks to herself.

Immediately, the adrenalin pumping through her body forces all her strength into the muscles powering those huge swan wings, and she regains altitude, veers westward and speeds on her way to Alqualonde to raise the alarm with one thought in mind:  It appears the dark forces are alive and well in the mortal world.

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Estelin Hears Nienna's Message

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Shawn Daysleeper

Estelin, the Vala of Dreams, in disguise as a Teleri, is in a bit of a predicament. His latest attempt at cooking has banned him from the kitchen. It seems Nole had enough of his food preparation  approach of "trial-and-error." Instead, Nole sent him to the harbour to gather seafood. He is confused and uncertain about what "tastes good" but complies nonetheless. Remembering Nole's words, "no noodles," he begins his search.

He is at the docks now, and a confused mess of ropes lays at his feet.  Listening to the waves and sitting on the docks, he soon relaxes, meditating to the rhythms of the sea. Entrusting himself to the harmonic sound, he captures the melody to memory and hoped to be able to weave within it some beautiful music. It had been some time since he and his sister had played for the King of the Teleri.

His sister. Some time has passed since she left for her audience with Manwe, and she was becoming overdue to return. Covering her absence has been becoming an art of his, and he hopes he can manage the illusion until she returns.  Even as he thought of her, he receives a message. It is a mental message that the valar are able to transmit by mental concentration. Telepathy some call it.

"My dear brothers, an urgent matter has arisen that needs my attention.  I may be delayed a day or a few days.  I will then make my rounds in Mandos, as planned, and return to the mortal shore of Alqualondë as soon as possible."

"My sister," Estelin replies in the same manner, "What urgent matter?" He asks, but the Lord of Dreams knew his message was not received my Nienna. She had closed her concentration to him. Sighing, he wondered what could have happened to delay her return. He knows that the mission has now fallen on his sholders alone, at least for the time being.

His mind drifts back to the docks at Alqualonde. Gulls and swans circle around the docks and cry with the waves. The midsummer sun hangs overhead. A gentle breeze blows through the trees near by and the silver strands of hair on his physical form. All is normal right now.

"I must remain vigilant over Olwe and his people," He resolves as he picks up some of the rope. Unlike the tangled rope, he has to keep a clear head to recognise any threats to Olwe, a great king among the Children.

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The Hunger

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Leonardo Rainfall

Chaos wasn’t the proper word for it. Carnage would be a more accurate description. Distant screams of women and the cries of children echoed in the air. Ash fell like hell-born snow, and the sky was tinted an oppressive gray. From here the world seemed to be in hectic disarray. Buildings were torn apart: large and long gashes redesigning it into a portrait of torment. The ambiance was composed of crackling flames, falling ruble and the outcries of people looking for their loved ones. It was all music to his ears.
   
The Balrog stood at the edge of town, his back to the raging fires and dying humans behind him. His arms were folded over his massive chest as he heaved in a deep breath, bringing in the scent of burning flesh and blood. He had attacked with vehemence, anxious to create the melting pot of war. The world was a consistent state of chaos and violence, the product of free will and intelligence. With every year passed, intelligent life would invent new devices to enhance life. Be it magic or not. Then, with every following year, a way to disable the very invention made in order to harm life. The back and forth nature of life was endless to the Balrog. This is how he viewed the world; a series of self-destructive acts.
   
The Balrog craved the war. Breaking the illusion of peace and freedom was an excellent way to satisfy his hunger. The Balrog unfolded his arms and flexed his hand, hearing the popping of his bones. He raised his head a little further up.

"What do you think your going to do with that sword, boy?" The Balrog asked without turning to the young child a few yards behind him.

The boy, his hair a light brown and scruffy, dropped the sword to the ground and gasped, remaining frozen by fear. The Balrog's voice was deep and rumbling, morphed in tone and pitch as if two voices were speaking. "Your courage is distinguishable from the rest of your pathetic peers, human." The Balrog continued. "Or could it be idiocy?" The massive creature turned to face the fearful boy. "Why do you not run, Boy?" The Balrog asked, his tone demanding an answer. The child, his hands shaking, reached down slowly for the weapon that was nearly as large as he was. The Balrog laughed in simple amusement.

"Y-you killed my parents! What kind of man would I be if I didn't seek revenge!?" The boy blindly shouted.

The Balrog laughed again and took a step closer, tensing his hand. "You are no man. You are a boy. A child. What would you know about revenge?" The Balrog inquired, his amusement fading.

The boy dashed forward toward the Balrog and swung his sword with little, but some, technique. The creature of fire snapped his hand up and easily stopped the blade. Clenching his hand, he smiled to the child beneath him, and the sword cracked. "You are either stupid or you are brave, boy."

The Balrog said, twisting his hand and the arm of the boy who held the sword firmly. The boy slowly lowered to his knees, withdrawing in pain. Then the Balrog swept his foot back and punted the boy forward, the boy sliding through the mud.

"One day you will make a great warrior. I will be waiting." The Balrog said, turning to depart from the destroyed town.
   
A Balrog cannot live in peace.

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A Walk in the Glen -- Part 2

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 Shawn Daysleeper and AelKennyr Rhiano

Manwe pauses in his walking at Ulmo's words. Over the vast expanse of time he had not ever considered his own certainty. Staring ahead into the multitude of trees before him, he whispers. "Perhaps you are right, dear brother."

That stops Ulmo as he moves alongside the Lord of the West. "Brother," he says, his voice low, a note of surprise. "You cannot see ahead to what will be, can you? Can you no longer hear the future strains of Song of Creation as it lays still be to be heard?"

Manwe shakes his head. "While there are certain aspects that I can not foresee, I am still certain I hear of other threads of time. I must be. I do admit, dear brother, that Eonwe's behaviour has confused some of my thoughts."

Ulmo takes a slow breath, realizing that for the first time since Blessed Eru bade the Ainur to sing the Song of Creation and bring the world into being, he feels anxiety about the future. For as mighty as the Lord of the Sea is, the passing of current events have left him in deep, troubled thoughts, as dark as the deepest part of the ocean. " I confess confusion as well, " answers Ulmo, and his voice relays the uncertainty he feels.

Confusion is not a good quality the Lord of the West should have. But there is no denying the fact his foresight on the unfolding events of the Song is clouded. "Disorder could be a tactic of our enemy. We must attempt to regain control."

"My Lord and much regarded brother, tender your heart has been toward Melkor, the fallen amongst us. I understand the reason for such feeling. But if he can affect a one such as Eonwe from where he is imprisoned, then maybe the time has come to speak of a more final solution."

Ulmo and Manwë

Manwe turns sternly to Ulmo, his mind suddenly focused amid the chaos. "Dear brother, you have always held the highest resentment to Melkor. We do not have proof that Eonwe has been corrupted by Melkor. Only that he has changed since I sent him on my missive. He could have been affected  en route or after returning, for he did not report to me immediately upon returning here. I had to summon him to my presence. I am going to summon Aule and ask for his view of his encounter with Eonwe."

Ulmo bows his head in respect to the Lord of the West. His voice is gruff as sharp is his memory of all that Melkor twisted, corrupted, and destroyed.  "Breath of Arda, I  am both subject and friend. I mistrusted Melkor in times long past and mistrust him still, but wise is the mind of Manwe. " He straightens and crosses his arms across is mighty chest. "And it gives me joy to hear the reason in your words. Surely the Maker can shed light."

Manwe nods. "With the complete account of the happenings in the chambers, we should be able to suggest the proper path Eonwe will follow to become cleansed. It may also shed light on other issues at hand and unravel some of this complication."

"Then, my Lord, Aule is to be summoned to Ilmarin, to have speech with you on this matter?" Slowly the gruffiness fades from his voice, and the warm affection and respect the Lord of the Sea has ever borne  the Breath of Arda rises to the surface. "If my Lord and friend wishes, I would be by his side for this, to fill the spot left vacant. If it would soothe the heart of Manwe, I would do this thing."

"I will welcome you at my side during this meeting, but..." he speaks softly, "you are not taking his place. I wait for the day Eonwe comes back to my side."

Ulmo looks into the eyes of the Lord of the West. "He will return to you, my Lord," Ulmo assures, though in his heart, all he has heard troubles him and makes the words sound more hollow than he would ever admit. "He will return."

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The Dragon Explains

< Previous Dometis     < Previous Olwë         

lawrence Blackbart and AelKennyr Rhiano

As the sun reaches its peak in the sky, its rays fall upon the sleeping dragon, turning his scales  a deep glistening blue.  As he sleeps his chest rises and falls steadily. He grumbles as he stirs in his sleep, vivid and rapid flashes of light dancing across his closed eyelids.  He shifts his position to try to shade his eyes from the harsh flashes.



Reluctantly, his scaled eyelids open, and he blinks in confusion. Drawing deep breaths through his flared nostrils, he snuffles at the many strange and new aromas. Curiosity overcoming his deep aching tiredness he raises his head and tries to get to his feet.





A searing pain shoots through his foreleg, causing him to crumble to the ground once more. He looks at the source of the pain and sees that his leg had been bandaged. "How did that get there?" he wondered. His mind clears somewhat. Just enough for him to vaguely remember his ordeal not too long ago. "The elf... "  As memory returns, his stomach rumbles and churns, moaning for food.  He sniffs the air hungrily and scans the horizon.  Hearing the flutter of wings and the ruffling of feathers from the harbor, he decides to investigate. Carefully getting to his feet, making sure not to put pressure on the injured leg, he slowly hobbles over to the source of the sound.

The harbor opens up before him, and he sees his prospective prey; a few large and plump swans, idly bobbing in the harbor. He hobbles closer to the water's edge, crouching low, so as not to stir his targets. He coils up and waits for the opportune moment.

Driven by his hunger, all else forgotten, he launches himself forward, but as he does so pain engulfs his body. He can't help but roar out in pain and frustration as he crashes into the shallow water, the swans taking flight with fear, honking frantically to alert their peers. Laying there in a crubbled heap just in the waters shallows, Dometis collects himself and slowly backs out of the the water. Every step, every limping step, sends pain through his leg, like a thousand piercings of his flesh. He hobbles up the small hill and collapses on the ground, panting, hurt and exhausted.

 Alone, Olwe, King of the Teleri, strolls through the forest that nestles close to the Swanhaven, his beloved Alqualonde.  The midday sun overhead shines down, and as the Lord of Alqualonde and Tol Eressea strolls through the verdant green he watches the play of light and shadow.  Though Alqualonde has been part of the mortal world for nearly a full turn of seasons, still the flow of night into day draws his curiosity. Each dawn a newfound vista, still. Making his way through, he pauses at the fountain in the center. For a long time he gazes in, thoughtful at all that has transpired these last 12 months. Reaching in as he muses, he feel the cool water across his fingertips, as his mind again wanders over all that has transpired.

Suddenly a roar startles him. Birds in the trees take to the air, and he hears the loud cries of the beloved swans. Looking up, startled, he sees them taking wing  and launching into flight. Quickly he runs through the forest, reaching for the short sword at his belt. His feet pound the ground as his heart beats painfully in his chest. The peace of the Swanhaven has been disturbed, and the loud roar could have only come from the dragon. No other creature in the Swanhaven could have given voice to such a sound.  His pace carries him swiftly, gracefully, feet barely touching the ground as he rushes onto the harbor plaza, among the empty stalls and quiet shops.  He looks around. barely out of breath for the exertion.

Rumbling and growling, Dometis's shuts his eyes, fighting back the pain, his injured leg throbbing. Every inch of his being is ablaze with searing pain. He slowly reopens his eyes and watches as his prey escape.

His hand on his sword, Olwe turns in a slow circle, sword at the ready. The plaza was empty, but as he sweeps the area with his gaze, a few swan feathers float down from above and land on the marbled floor of the harbor.  Standing still, he waits, straining his sense and is award with the sound of a rumbling growl. There, close to Olwe's Tower. So, the dragon did not make it this far.  Nodding to himself, he makes his way swiftly to the source of the sound.

The sound of frantic running stirs him. Dometis tries to shuffle his mass to face the footsteps, but doesn't even manage to raise his head, before he sighs and moans with pain. He shudders and just lays there, waiting.

Rounding the corner of the market stall closest to his tower, Olwe comes to a halt. He stares a moment, taking in the massive back of the deep blue dragon, the sun playing across the scales, turning them iridescent, almost alive.  His eyes widen as he hear the mighty heaving from the creature.  Slowly he walks up to the dragon and clears his throat. "Hail, Dometis," he says in a loud voice, speaking the Common tongue. "Tis not a good end to show fellow beings, " he says and presses the tip, slightly against the scales of the dragon, to get his attention.

Olwë finds a dragon butt

Dometis hears someone clearing their throat.  Hearing his name and recognizing the voice, he slowly turns his head so he can just see the elf. His fast breathing  is subsiding, but still heavy. He opens his maw to greet the elf. Feeling a sharp metallic point pressed against his scales,  Dometis's eyes flick wide open. He cranes his head, bares his teeth, and hisses at the elf. Seeing the elf, he lowers his head, his snout pointed down sharply, in respect and to show he is no threat. "Hail, Lord Olwe, " he says in the same tongue as the elf, his voice a low rumble. "My apologies for the display. It was a reflex. And my apologies again for the swans, but please, you must understand that I have not eaten in an age, and I was merely attempting to hunt."

At first, Olwe raises the sword a bit higher, in response to the hiss and baring of teeth, but then Dometis replies. Face flushing a little at his rough manner, Olwe sheathes his sword, the deference shown him by the ancient dragon, not going unnoticed. Reaching out with his bare hand, Olwe touches Dometis' flank as he slowly makes his way up the side, closer to the dragon's face. His blue eyes looking wonderingly at the dragon, taking his size, the feel of his scales the color of his wings, the eyes that regard him with intelligence and still pain.  Coming closer, Olwe nods. "We have fish aplenty for you, Dometis, " he says. "Lord Osse has been kind and tossed upon the shores a bounty that should fill even your stomach if you have strength to but turn take the steps to the shores of the harbor."

Dometis lets his head stay pointed towards the ground as the elf approaches, enjoying the touch of the elf's hands over his scales. He raises his head and looks down at the elf and nods slowly, admiring his bravery. He replies, "Many thanks Lord Olwe. Perhaps you may accompany me whilst I eat? I assure you, questions that you have shall be answered."

Olwe locks gazes with the dragon as Dometis speaks, marvelling at the voice, at the surprising gentleness of one so large in size. He shakes himself a little, realizing that Dometis was asking him a question, for which he needs responds. "Yes," he says, nodding absently. I think it is time I hear your tale." He gestures to the near bank. As he says the fresh fish is still flopping upon the bank. "Hurry, " urges Olwe, "While they are still worth eating."  He waits for the dragon and as he does, the thought comes unbidden. "This creature's ancestors were once the unfortunate slaves of The Dark Lord."

Dometis moans as he slowly stands up, cringing as the pain returns. He slowly makes his way down the bank, licking his chops as he eyes the fish. Lowering his head, he opens his maw to bite into the fish laying on the bank. He slowly tilts his head back, feeling the fish slide down his neck and into his grumbling empty belly. Downing another delicious fish, he says "Ask away, Lord Olwe."

Olwe settles upon the bank, sitting on the green fresh grass and watching the dragon as he eats. He regards Dometis quietly and then asks his first of many questions. "How came you to be hurt?"

Dometis sighs deeply and turns his head to face the elf. "Ah, Lord Olwe, that is a most embarrassing tale for a dragon." Dometis shakes his head slowly, remembering his own stupidity and retells his tale. "It happened whilst I was flying and searching for help. I had been flying for days on end and had had very little to eat. If you wish to know what that is like, I would imagine that holding a stone of about the same mass as yourself above your head for days on end. Ah, I digress. Exhaustion got the better of me and I ... " Dometis pauses, knowing what he says next will make him look like a right fool. "... I ... feel asleep in the air. Now imagine dropping that stone above your head. When I woke up, it was too late for me to do anything to correct it, so i tried lessening the impact as much as possible. Thankfully there are only a few cuts, bruises and scrapes form that fall. The other injuries came from my dive into the sea."

Olwe raises his eyebrows as he hears the tale unfold, eyeing the dragon with no little surprise. "You flew until exhaustion overtook you?" He shifts his weight as he sits, listening. "To not stop when the need for rest came upon you must surely mean your situation was dire, indeed. What sort of help were you seeking? What drove you to such extremes?"

Dometis dips his maw into the water, closing his jaw around several fish at once. Tilting his head back, he swallows the fish mostly whole. He returns his gaze to the elf, his curiosity intriguing him. He responds "I was desperate, desperate for any help, any whatsoever. The simple answer to what drove me ... revenge. "

Olwe leans forward, watching Dometis as he says the word so calmly. "Revenge for?" he asks.

Dometis draws several deep breaths as rage bubbles up from within as he recalls the events that started his journey. He shuts his eyes and tries to control his emotions. He huffs once, shaking the anger off. "Revenge for my mate and kin. We were sleeping in our cave, as we always do. I woke up ... and .... " He trails off, not knowing what to say or how to say it

Olwe watches the dragon as Dometis draws in several breaths, shuts his eyes and the words comes spilling from him. The green of the grass, of the trees, the blossoms on the nearby trees seem to Olwe to drain of color as he hears the pain in Dometis' voice. "You lost your mate? Was your mate slain?"

Dometis shakes his head slowly and dips it down, suddenly feeling as if it were made of the heaviest of all material. "No, much worse." His voice, although low, full of emotion "She was captured. Captured, Olwe. And I was held in place, my struggling and attempting to resist their spells doing naught. I was forced to lay there and watch as my mate and our eggs be carried away. So now... a fire burns within me for revenge."

Olwe feels a chill run through his body, hearing the words. He clasps his arms around a leg and shakes his head softly, in his blue eyes an unspoken understanding of the depths of loss. "Do you know who did this?" he asks, and his voice is low, quiet.

Dometis swallows the lump in his throat. "I only know what they look like, and what their scents smell like. Other than that, I haven't the faintest idea. What troubles me though is why would they not slay me? Why let me live?"

((to be continued))    

Dawn of a Different Age - Part 1

From the Fellowship of the 4th Age, a lighthearted and comic spoof of the 4th Age. And it is okay to laugh at yourself. It saves others the effort of doing it for you!  Thanks to Lihan for the humorous look of an alternate Tolkien inspired universe.

The Halls of Mandos Trailer Park

One more sweltering night in the Halls of Mandos Deluxe Trailer Park. Every night was pretty much the same. The daytime smells of diesel fumes and hot asphalt and bleach had faded gradually to that of lighter fluid and overcooked hot dogs, and now to cheap beer and weed.  The drone of fans in every window, and a few laboring air-conditioners did not drown the competing music blaring from a dozen sources.  Actually, it made that hip-hop stuff slightly more tolerable, when all the songs were playing at once, and you couldn't hear the words to any.  Just a steady throbbing of percussion, down to the gravel bones of the trailer park.  The screaming kids were mostly asleep by now, or at least hypnotized by those flickering blue lights that showed behind so many windows.

Nienna sat out on  the steps of Aulë's trailer, enjoying what passed for peace here.  Aulë had brought a couple of lawn gnomes with him when he moved in here.  They probably came from his wife's place, though Nienna had never asked.  Aulë was married to Yavanna – had been married to her since about forever, and she had run Yavanna's Lawn & Garden since about forever.  Not that Aulë had ever spent that much time at her place.  Whatever.  Aulë mostly spent his time at his workshop, over on the west side.  Until this project.

The orange glare of a lonely streetlight drowned out the garish paint on the gnome, painting him the same unearthly non-color as the gravel, the sidings, the hazy sky overhead that reflected back the lights below.  This could be nowhere.  This could be a hundred miles underground.  Underground, the same dead air, the heat still rising from the ground, from some great volcano, everything lit by toneless orange light from those underground fires.  It could be. And they could be alone.  Might as well be alone.  Sure, there are people packed in here, as close as old Námo could pack them.  But no one paid any attention to each other, unless you counted yelling at the kids to stay off your yard, so wasn't that the same as being alone?  Did anyone even know she was here?  She hoped not, and she tried to stay inside during the day, just in case someone did recognize her.  Námo, for instance.  He wasn't around much, but he did own the place, so  you never know when he might turn up.

She took another slow drag from the joint between her fingers, savoring the smoke for a moment before exhaling.  Settling into the feeling of contentment.  Strange how she had never appreciated such things, before.  Not until she had moved in here, with  Aulë.  “It's complicated,” she explained to the gnome.

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Fireside Chat -- Races: Orcs

Present:

AelKennyr Rhiano 

Belenos the Bad      (belenosstormchaser.magic)

Shawn Daysleeper 

Rhûn Darkmoon     (zu.dragoone)

Lihan Taifun (briefly)

Summary:

In “generic fantasy” roleplay, 'Orc' refers to tough, warlike humanoid creatures. They are usually described as large, misshapen, human like, brutal, and violent. Sometimes, they are described as dull of wit, but in some rps (such as World of Warcraft), they are instead proud warriors with a strong sense of honor. In some games, orcs are allowed to use shamanistic magic.

Tolkien describes Orcs explicitly in one of his Letters: “...they are (or were) squat, broad, flat-nosed, sallow-skinned, with wide mouths and slant eyes; in fact degraded and repulsive versions of the (to Europeans) least lovely Mongol-types.”

The “goblins” Tolkien describes in The Hobbit are the same creatures he calls “orcs” in Lord of the Rings, or at least a small breed of “orc”. Early editions of Lord of the Rings used “goblin” – or “hobgoblin” for large races – throughout. It was only later that he realized the prefix “hob-” made more sense for a smaller race.

The Uruk-hai, described as very large black orcs of great strength, first appeared from Mordor about the year 2475 of the Third Age, when they briefly took Ithilien and the city of Osgiliath. These original Uruks were of Sauron's breeding, but Saruman bred his own, making further changes, such as resistance to sunlight and more upright stature. All Uruks were larger and stronger than other breeds of orc and consequently looked down upon and often bullied them.

Treebeard suspected Saruman of cross-breeding orcs with humans.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  ok...do we still want to talk about orcs? Was it orcs tonight?
Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'Yes, I believe so?'
AelKennyr Rhiano:  ok :) I am going to talk about orcs, both in Tokien, other fantasy settings, and the word itself a little if I may?
Belenos the Bad:      that sounds good to me.. :)
AelKennyr Rhiano smiles
Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'I'm with her.'
AelKennyr Rhiano:  ok...Let's talk about generic rp descriptions first. As a race in rp, overall... Orc refers to tough, warlike humanoid creatures. They are usually described as large, misshapen, human like, brutual, and violent.
Belenos the Bad:      sounds like orcs to me; and some of my ex husbands.. :D
Rhûn Darkmoon chokes
Shawn Daysleeper:  totally the opposite of elves
AelKennyr Rhiano:  Sometimes, they are described as dull of wit, but in some rps, they are instead proud warriors with a strong sense of honor..pauses to laugh at Belenos.
Belenos the Bad grins and pats Rhun on the back. When AelKennyr Rhiano say 'in some rps'... which rps?
AelKennyr Rhiano:  Occasionally they are physically weaker than humans in a rp, but more often stronger, but always they have a robust populations.
I will get to that :)
Belenos the Bad:      ok.. *sits meekly and waits*
AelKennyr Rhiano:  But, to give you some answer...for example, in WoW they are a proud warrior race.
Belenos the Bad nods.. ok
AelKennyr Rhiano:  In games like Warhammer they are green and are called "greenskins." Sometimes, orcs are allowed use of shamanistic magic, but always, they are skilled fighters and fierce enemies.
Rhûn Darkmoon:     'So not just dumb brutes?
AelKennyr Rhiano:  Not just dumb brutes
Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'Ok'
AelKennyr Rhiano:  Now, I won't bore you with a long discussion of the history of the word "orc." But Tolkien was the one who brought the word into modern use.
Belenos the Bad:      ook
AelKennyr Rhiano:  In the Hobbit, Tolkien uses the word "goblin" instead of "orc." But he was describing the same type of creature.
Belenos the Bad:      why did he change that?
AelKennyr Rhiano:  Well, in the Hobbit, the smaller creature was called "goblins" and the larger ones were elsewhere referred to as "orcs."
AelKennyr Rhiano:  I think, Belenos, that may be an Lihan question? ....blushes
Belenos the Bad grins.. I'll ask her when I can track her down.. :)
Shawn Daysleeper:  Gandalf mentions orcs once in the book when he refered to the Grey Mountains, in the Hobbit
AelKennyr Rhiano nods
Shawn Daysleeper:  is it a different type of creature there?
AelKennyr Rhiano:  In the Hobbit?
Shawn Daysleeper:  the creatures in the Grey vs Misty Mountains, two different areas; Lihan question, I bet
AelKennyr Rhiano:  Well, In the Misty Mountains, they are called goblins
Shawn Daysleeper:  yes
AelKennyr Rhiano:  They capture the dwarves for trepassing and later fight the men, elves, and dwarves at the Battle of Five Armies. If you remember.
Shawn Daysleeper:  nods
Belenos the Bad:      the different names for similar/same creatures could just be local regional names.. but yes, methinks a lihan question
AelKennyr Rhiano:  I think so...
Belenos the Bad:      ok
AelKennyr Rhiano:  And it may not been a "good" answer. It may be a case of the words being used interchangeably while Tolkien is trying to make up his mind on which to use. We have seen that kind of inconsistency in Tolkien before.
Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'That is true.'
Shawn Daysleeper:  ok, I was wondering. Shawn Daysleeper smiles
AelKennyr Rhiano:  If you remember, in the Hobbit, there is a scene where Gandalf is trying to scare Bilbo. And he warns him of creatures in the wilderness... "goblins, hobogoblins, and orcs of the worst description." So...to try to answer Shawn's question a little.... and going back to what I said earlier, it could simply be that goblins are smaller kin of Orcs. That could be genetic or environmentally related.
Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'that would make sense.'
Belenos the Bad:      yes
AelKennyr Rhiano:  And sorry, I made tons of notes so I could do a somewhat creditable accounting for tonight....so pardon me for scrambling through them to answer the question. AelKennyr Rhiano shuffles through a moment...oh, oh...yes... going back to Shawn's question...
Shawn Daysleeper blushes; sorry to interrupt
AelKennyr Rhiano:  omg...no, no I am just a poor substitute for Lihan :P
Belenos the Bad:      You, Ael are never a poor substitute.....*growls at you*
Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'Yes, I'm right with Belenos on that.'
Shawn Daysleeper:  Ael is awesome teacher
AelKennyr Rhiano drops his papers and blushes. Tolkien wrote this note which was in some editions of the Hobbit: Orc is not an English word. It occurs in one or two places but is usually translated goblin (or hobgoblin for the larger kinds). Orc is the hobbits' form of the name given at that time to these creatures, and it is not connected at all with orc, ork, applied to sea-animals of dolphin-kind.
AelKennyr Rhiano blushes...Thank you, Shawn..blushes more.
Shawn Daysleeper smiles
AelKennyr Rhiano:  Now, I did find where, in the original edition of the Hobbit and early rough drafts of LOTR, goblins was used instead of orcs, period. Hobgoblin was used for larger and more vicious evil goblins. Investigating possible sources for the word "Hobbit" Tolkien realised he had made a mistake in using hob-, which is traditionally used to mean a smaller entity, not a larger one.
Belenos the Bad:      so like many writers he was simply making his mind up and redefining some of his characters as his story progressed by the sound of it..
AelKennyr Rhiano:  That is my personal take on it, Belenos. And it makes a great deal of sense.
Belenos the Bad:      oh yes.. once a book it out there and published you can't rewrite it when you change your mind about something later..
Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'Yes, that is very true.'
AelKennyr Rhiano:  Right. And Remember the intentions changed between writing the Hobbit and the LOTR.
Belenos the Bad:      yes
AelKennyr Rhiano:  Tolkien describes Orcs explicitly in one of his Letters: ...they are (or were) squat, broad, flat-nosed, sallow-skinned, with wide mouths and slant eyes; in fact degraded and repulsive versions of the (to Europeans) least lovely Mongol-types.
Belenos the Bad:      ewww.... nasty visual.. *slides her breakfast to the side for a while*
AelKennyr Rhiano:  nod nod nod
Rhûn Darkmoon chuckles, 'Not exactly Miss Universe material.'
AelKennyr Rhiano:  Now, in Tolkien, there was a great deal of variation in the Orc race.....roflmao...
Rhûn Darkmoon grins
AelKennyr Rhiano:  The most obvious examples are the Uruk-hai or Uruks, who were larger, more powerful and had black skin; they called smaller and weaker Orcs snaga ("slave"). And I know you all remember that Sauron bred his own super Orcs... Uruk-hai
Belenos the Bad:      bred them... what did he breed them from?
AelKennyr Rhiano looks through his notes...I am not sure.
Belenos the Bad:      I know the movies sort of depicted them emerging from the earth in the mine thingy he had going.. but I didn't trust the authenticity of that
AelKennyr Rhiano:  well, I don't remember it like that.
Shawn Daysleeper:  maybe foul sorcery/chemical mix
AelKennyr Rhiano:  The Uruk-hai, described as very large black orcs of great strength, first appeared from Mordor about the year 2475 of the Third Age, when they briefly took Ithilien and the city of Osgiliath. These original Uruks were of Sauron's breeding, but Saruman bred his own, making further changes, such as resistance to sunlight and more upright stature. All Uruks were larger and stronger than other breeds of orc and consequently looked down upon and often bullied them.


Now, in my notes, I do have, and I do remember this...Treebeard suggested that Saruman cross bred Orcs with men. And that is where the Uruk-hai came from, which, all things considered, may well be the case.
Belenos the Bad:      again that brings to mind some really nasty visuals.. *shudders*
AelKennyr Rhiano:  They were faster, stronger, and larger than normal orcs, and could travel during the day without being weakened, although they still did not like it. Btwm Saruman fed them with human flesh

{Lihan arrives. Greetings.}
AelKennyr Rhiano:  um....Do you guys want to make this a two parter? I ask because Shawn and I were supposed to finish the Manwe/Ulmo rp tonight...blushes. I.. am not sure if I really presented this well tonight?
Belenos the Bad smiles.. that will work for me because it means I get to watch it.. :)
AelKennyr Rhiano smiles
Rhûn Darkmoon:     'You have, you know. You have done really well with we inquisitive students.'.. smiles
Shawn Daysleeper:  Ael you do very well :)
AelKennyr Rhiano smiles. I like inquisitive students. I think I just went a little overboard taking notes...blushes.
Belenos the Bad shakes her head... no.. it just means you have more interesting stuffs to tell us next week.. :D
AelKennyr Rhiano:  Maybe next week, Lihan can talk about Tolkien orcs, and I can talk about orcs in other fantasy rps for comparison?
Rhûn Darkmoon smiles, 'That would be good.'
Belenos the Bad:      I agree.... :)
Lihan Taifun: I have houseguests next week. I probably won't be here
AelKennyr Rhiano:  oops.that is right...sorry; no, no, I understand.
Belenos the Bad:      So we get more of Ael.... gee... I think I can handle that.. :)
AelKennyr Rhiano blushes
Rhûn Darkmoon grins

A Walk in the Glen -- Part 1

< Previous Manwë       < Previous Ulmo    

Shawn Daysleeper and AelKennyr Rhiano

Ulmo, Lord of the Waters

Swifly came Ulmo, Lord of the Sea, in attendance with his two most trusted Maiar, Osse and Uinen. His brow was furrowed, and heavy was the sorrow that weighed upon him, for though he spoke not of his heart nor of his thoughts, still upon his visage could the Lady of the Sea see the effect that the summons of the Lord of the West had upon this, his most trusted friend and brother Vala.

To Ilmarin, Manwë's halls on the summit of Taniquetil in the Pelóri mountains did Ulmo speed, his Maiar in tow, but when he arrived, no Maia stepped forward to greet him.  As the Lord of the Waters looks about him, he sees in their eyes uncertainty and disquiet.  Craning his head about, he turns to the Maia Unien and bids her  to find a Wind and inform his brother, Lord of the West, that Ulmo has come unto Ilmarin and seeks the company of the Breathe of Arda.

Ulmo folds his arms across the expanse of his mighty chest and swishes his tail in some impatience. He had come to halls of the Lord of the West sheathed in the physical form less fearsome to the Children, for few do not quail at the sight of the Lord of the Sea, wreathed in glittering green armor and clothed in the might and fury of the seas.  Now, in this small frame, the air drying the moisture of the sea upon his skin, he glowers about him.  Lady Uinen comes back, floating with the same grace as she has in the sea, a terrified Wind trailing behind her. "My lord," she says, and her voice is soothe, calm, tranquil as a still pond. "Lord Manwe is not in the palace." She looks down. "This handsome Wind tells me that no one knows where he has gone."  Ulmo gives a short grunt and looks about the Maiar who attend the Lord of the West. "Where is Eonwe?" he asks, "Send for the Herald of Manwe."  Lady Uinen shakes her head softly. "My Lord," she answers. "Eonwe is herald no longer."

Manwë Súlimo, High King, Lord of the Breath of Arda

 Manwe Sulimo is troubled in mind and heart.

 He is hurt over his decision to dismiss Eonwe, and remaining in his palace on the mountain is a constant reminder to him that the Maia is no longer at his side. Eonwe's faithful service was a constant luxury to the lord of the West, but no more. Eonwe's absence leaves a hole in his heart. The Lord of the West had departed his palace some time ago, and walks now under the timeless trees on the lower slopes of the mountain. He dismissed Eonwe. He is living with this regret now. But time flows on. His reasoning tells him he needs to assign a replacement for Eonwe, but  he does not have the heart to do so. He misses his herald greatly. Yet the Maia's words of defiance continue to plague the mind of Manwe. The spirit of Manwe had to get away from the palace if only for a while. Revisiting the creation of the Song has a calming effect on Manwe's spirit.

Ulmo stares down at the face of the Lady of the Sea, the mighty face softening into a look of open surprise and disbelief. Now the discord here in the palace of the Lord of the West made sense to Ulmo.  They but reflect the discord which must be in the heart of Manwe himself. Gently he speaks now, to the Wind directly, giving orders in a gentle calming voice. The voice which sung the seas into being now eases the troubled Wind, gave him purpose again, as Ulmo issues orders that, for the time being, put the household of the Lord of the West back in order.  Now the deep sadness he gleamed from the direct summons of Manwe makes clear how deep the pain which has seized Manwe's heart. Once the Maiar were dispatched to their duties, and the Wind had taken himself away, he dismisses Osse and Uinen back to the waters of the world. Closing his eyes, he opens his mind and quests for the touch of the mind of Manwe.

Manwe's mind stirs from its bereft state as he felt the nonmaterial touch of Ulmo. He summons his brother to the woods where he now walks. His spirit feels some relief with his brother's arrival in the Blessed Lands. As a lure, he sought to guide his brother into his presence. Clothing himself in a column of water, Ulmo vanishes from the halls of Manwe and follows, without hesitation, the call of the Lord of the West, tracing easily the source of the summons to a wooded glen at the base of the Pelori Mountains. There, before him, his face lined the heartache and disappointment, stood Manwe. "Hail, Manwe, Lord of the West, much loved king and brother of my heart," greets Ulmo, his own heart squeezing to see such pain of the face of the Breath of Arda.

"Hail, Lord of the Waters." Manwe attempts to regain some composure. "My brother, your words fall upon me who is grieving with loss. My spirit is in turmoil and pain. The likes of which I have not felt in many days. I needed to get away from my palace, at least for a time."

There are those among the Second Born of the Children of Illuvatar who claim that frightful is the gaze of the Lord of the Waters, that his heart is as watery as his seas and as cold, that never would the Third in Might of the Aratar ever feel his heart clench in sympathetic ache for another, but any now looking upon the face of Ulmo would know the sons of man who say such do not know the Spirit of Ulmo. His eyes soften and his great arms stretch out to clasp the Lord of the West in a brother embrace. "My spirit moves with thee, My brother and king, and feels the tidal wave of your pain."

Manwe accepts his brother's embrace gladly. "My spirit may not find rest until he returns. It is a strange feeling, not understanding your gains until they are lost. He was faithful and served with great love, but now I fear he is not himself. Your spirit moves with mine. Long may the day come when our hurt is remedied."

"I..."Ulmo pauses, for once uncertain, and then continues."Tell me what could cause this to be? Since the beginning has Eonwe been by your side. The palace was in upheaval, and your Maiar without direction or purpose in your halls."

"His.. his words of defiance hurt, and caught me off guard. His words stung, as if tipped with poison. I became angry and dismissed him" his hands clench as the memories of that day return to the Lord of the West. "I never foresaw that Eonwe would ever leave my side." His spirit shudders "My palace was in upheaval, he was always there to maintain order. He always gave direction to my maiar. But now, my spirit is in turmoil and so are those that are close to me."

Ulmo feels a groan well up and quickly chokes it off. Not since the betrayal of Melkor has Manwe shown such pain and hurt. "He has been always so, my King." He stops and grows thoughtful, then softly says," Lord Manwe, has Eonwe's heart changed toward you? Has some thing, some affliction seized him, some reason for the change in him?"

"His heart seemed so... cold. He did not show any loyalty to me, or anyone in his presence. Something must had happened to him while away on my errand for his behaviour to have changed so drastically. While his physical form seemed untouched, his maintenance of his form was unkempt. I do not know if some affliction has tainted him."

Listening carefully, Ulmo paces a little back and forth, restless as the sea. "Errand?" he seizes upon the word."What errand, my Lord?  Did he come back from it different, you say?"

Manwe looks up as the Lord of the Seas paces restlessly. "I sent him on an errand to Melkor's old prison when I heard that Aule had been investigating there. Upon returning, Eonwe had changed. I dismissed Eonwe, and suggested to him that he may return after he controlled his emotions and regained his loyalty." He continues to watch his brother pace swimmingly.

Ulmo stops and looks over at Manwe, his eyes narrowing in thought. "To Melkor's prison, the one beneath the halls of Mandos?" He frowns a little."What is of worth there but stone and old tales?" He lifts his gaze and regards the green glen about them. Ever in motion, he continues to speak. "Why was the Maker in the Chambers, my King?"

 Manwe nods. "Yes, Aule went there to investigate the chambers. When I found out he was there, I sent a missive forbidding him to remove any evidence left behind by our fallen brother. However, Eonwe claimed Aule told him he removed the signs before receiving my missive. It was then at that point that Eonwe accused the Maker of defying my orders."

"I cannot picture the Maker defying you, Lord Manwe, " Ulmo answers. "Not knowingly. Perhaps Eonwe misunderstood. Eonwe has always regard carefully and with great, fierce loyalty your honor and dignity, but to the point of defiance?" He shakes his head. "Perhaps there is a sickness in his spirit?"

Manwe nods at Ulmo's words. His thinking is clearer with his brother at his side. He starts to stroll down the path in thought "A sickness? Would that explain defiance? He seemed so certain of himself."

I do not know, Brother and King, but the Vala of Healing would know." He floats along beside his brother, swimming through the air as easily as the waters of the world. "Else it is that Eonwe is right, and yet another of our number has stepped beyond his bounds.  Once before the Maker has misstepped.  It could be he has again."

Manwe nods. "indeed, he has misstepped before." He continues to walk in thought. "The Vala of Healing would know if there is a sickness in his spirit. I admit... I am a little unsure of how to proceed. What do you advise?" He turns to his brother.

Ulmo rubs his chin thoughtfully. The warm air has dried his skin, and the Lord of the Sea finds this body itches once that happens. "The Gentle Lady Estë would be able to heal and restore Eonwe, if a true illness of mind or body had befallen him," he muses, but then he turns troubled eyes to the Lord of the West." You sound unsure of yourself, my King."

Manwe pauses in his walking at Ulmo's words. Over the vast expanse of time he had not ever considered his own certainty. Staring ahead into the multitude of trees before him, he whispers. "Perhaps you are right, dear brother."

That stops Ulmo as he moves alongside the Lord of the West. "Brother," he says, his voice low, a note of surprise. "You cannot see ahead to what will be, can you?  Can you no longer hear the future strains of Song of Creation as it lays still be to be heard?"


((to be continued))  

Nienna's Message

< Previous     

Lihan Taifun

Nienna tries to hide her deep worry, as she walks beside Aulë in the shady forest on the plains of the Blessed Lands.  For a while they walk in an imitation of companionable silence.   If Aulë can calm his thoughts on his own, so much the better.  He will speak when he is ready. 

The role of the Valar — of all the Ainur — was once to built this world; and now to guide and teach the Children who inhabit it.  Yes, there had been disagreements about policy from time to time, but on the whole the race of Ainur worked together smoothly, each tending to their own sphere of interest.  No matter what is causing Aulë to spout such angry nonsense, such outbursts will likely soon disrupt the governance of the world.  Or perhaps Aulë, as lord of the building materials of the earth, might channel his temper into earthquakes and volcanoes.  No, that would not do at all!  Far better to encourage him to talk, and to settle himself, even — Nienna realizes — if she must set aside her other responsibilities for a bit.  An unaccountably angry Vala takes priority!

As she walks, she carefully composes a message to her brothers, Námo of Mandos and Irmo, now disguised as Estelin in Alqualondë.  Not a full, open, two-way telepathic conversation, where she might accidentally let her thought slip to Aulë's behavior.  Best not to bring him into public disgrace, certainly not when he already felt his reputation was in some way tainted.  Just a simple, neutral statement of a slight change in schedule:

"My dear brothers, an urgent matter has arisen that needs my attention.  I may be delayed a day or a few days.  I will then make my rounds in Mandos, as planned, and return to the mortal shore of Alqualondë as soon as possible."

She concentrates on sending that, and only that.

The two Valar walk on, through the eternally flawless green of the forest,  among the perfect wildflowers, joy of Lady Vána,  under the unclouded light of the Sun.   The wall of stone that surrounds the dark flowers is behind them now, but Nienna is still haunted by a vague sense of something not-quite-right.  Though it is difficult to concentrate on subtleties while the powerful Vala beside her is scowling and stomping.

> The Message Received     > Next Nienna and Aule    

Nienna Meets Aulë

< Previous Aulë     < Previous Nienna    

Rhûn Darkmoon and Lihan Taifun

Nienna Returns from Mt. Taniquetil

After reporting to Manwë, Nienna walks toward her brother's home, Mandos, the Halls of Waiting. With fewer Elves living in the mortal lands in this era, there are fewer deaths, and her work in Mandos is lighter. But there are still some of the Dead she wants to speak with again, and it is not always easy to slip away from Alqualondë and "Apakenwë", undetected.

Walking down the westward path, she realizes how much she misses being in Aman -- the pure, rarified air, the radiant unblemished sunlight and clear piercing starlight -- none of the smoke and dust of the mortal lands. No laundry, or chamber pots, or torn clothing. Timeless beauty, outside the decay of time. Although she could travel the distance in spirit form, in nearly no time, walking to Mandos will be a pleasure.

The Dark Flowers

With a grunt of satisfaction, Aule dusts off his hands and steps back to survey his work.  "Yes, that will do nicely," he says with only the wind in the nearby forest to hear.  He folds his arm and surveys the wall a moment longer, giving a shake of his head that none had thought of so simple a solution until now.  He turns to pick up his shirt and cloak. It had been chill earlier this day when he had risen to continue his labours on the wall, but as the day had warmed, he had tossed them aside.  His hand stays, the cloak untouched, for he spies a figure approaching down the road from Valimar.

Aulë Surveys His Work

Rounding a corner of the path, Nienna sees a great stone wall.  Disturbing energies roil in the vicinity, originating, as nearly as she can tell, from the direction of the wall.  Nearby stands a figure, not small, but appearing small in comparison with the wall.

With an impatient sniff, Aule folds his arms to await the approach of the traveller, a small contemptuous smile curving his lips. None had passed this way from Valimar since he had sent that upstart guard packing back to the palace with a flea in his ear. Nor should they. When the Maker himself was at work, who would dare disturb him.  It was with no small amount of curiosity now then that he watched the small figure approach.

As Nienna approaches, she recognizes her fellow Vala, Aule, his own energy nearly drowned by the turmoil from the wall.  "Well met, Maker!" she calls out in greeting.

The scrowl that had creased Maker's face relaxes into something resembling a smile as he recognizes the traveller as none other than Nienna, the gentle lady of compassion. 'Well met, indeed, fair Nienna!  This is indeed an unexpected pleasure.  I had thought you in Alqualonde.'

 Nienna smiles to see her old associate.  "We have been in Alqualonde -- Irmo and I -- and I will be returning soon.  I had a message to carry to the Lord of the West."  Her eyes gaze fondly around the forest, as she continues.  "And I will make a short visit to Mandos, where I still have a few urgent duties, before I return to the mortal lands."  Her eyes rest uncertainly on the wall, marring the natural beauty of the landscape.

 Aule's gaze follows Nienna's eyes to the wall.  He nods towards it with his chin. "An unfortunate but necessary addition I fear, Fair One.  I happened upon a guard as I too was journeying to see our dear Lord of the West." He cannot keep a slight sneer from his voice as he voices his brother's title, "when I happened upon a guard sent to keep travellers safe from those strange and deadly blooms that had appeared here.  Why no one simply thought to build a wall around them instead of wasting manpower guarding them is beyond me.  But now the wall is built. The evil is contained and the guard is back on duty in Valimar, warming Ingwe's bed, no doubt."

Nienna's eyes tighten, hearing the unaccustomed unkindness in Aule's words.  Everyone knows the Noldor are his favorites -- always eager to learn the crafts of building.  But never has Nienna heard him speak ill of the other Children.  Nonetheless, she holds her tongue.  "It was well done to build a wall.  But what brings you to speak to the Lord?"

 Aule's brow darkens as he thinks of the reason for his journey. He lifts a hand and rubs his forehead in that gesture that has become all too familiar since leaving the Halls of Mandos. "Oh, you have not heard the news?  You do not know that I am branded traitor and liar?" The bitterness is strong in his words. "I had thought that coming from Taniquetil you would have heard all about it from that yapping puppy Eonwe."

Nienna blinks in confusion.  "No, I heard nothing.  I did not see Eonwe at all.  What strange tale is this?"

Aule stares hard at his fellow Ainu for long moments, searching her face for any trace of deceit or mockery. Finding nothing but genuine confusion and concern some of the tension leaves him.  The bitterness is still strong in his voice, however, as he relates his story. "Brother Manwe seemed to believe me incapable of dealing with the dark magic found written on the walls of Melkor's former cell.  He wrote to me, commanding I stop recording them and cleansing the cell, stating he would send others to do so. Others!  What others would be more capable than I when it comes to dealing with Melkor's trickery!   So he sent his little pet Eonwe. Eonwe, his mouthpiece and only a Maia, when six of my own  had already succumbed to it!" He snorts contemptuously, "But the work was already complete by the time that jumped up creature arrived and he dared, he DARED to accuse me, ME, not only of disobeying the instructions of the Lord of the West, but of outright treachery!  He then not only drew his blade in my presence but held it to my throat!" By now his voice had risen and the last word was an utter roar of outrage.  Coming to himself and realising to whom he is speaking  he takes a deep breath and continues more quietly. "That is why I seek my brother. To clear my name and inform him of his precious Herald's impudence."

Nienna tries to hide a frown, as she says cautiously, "I perceive these events have greatly upset you.  Now consider, harsh words will not convince Manwe.  Perhaps he would hear your case more favorably if you spoke calmly.  Come, will you walk with me for a while, and settle your mind?"

 Aule turns his head to stare up the road towards distant Taniquetil where resides Manwe, his brother and King. He then turns  to look back down the road to the Halls of Mandos. Every fibre of his being had yearned to return there since the moment he had left.  The prospect of doing so was almost painful in the pleasure of it.  He glanced again towards Taniquetil before returning his gaze to the fair Vala standing before him, considering her words carefully. Again the hand raises to rub at his brow as he slowly nods and says simply, "Yes, I will walk with you."

Aule bends down and finally retrieves his forgotten shirt, slipping it on deftly and tying the fastenings before reaching for his cloak and travelling pack.  With one last glance at the wall, he turns to Nienna and nods. "Let us walk."

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The Lady of the Sea

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 AelKennyr Rhiano

Uinen, the Lady of the Sea, Maia to Ulmo, Lord of the Waters of the World, reaches out a delicate thin hand and caresses the chin of the dolphin before her. Her hair gently sways with the motion of the waters, spread thoughout the entire of the world along the ocean bed.  Above her was the harbor of Alqualonde, and if she but looked up, she could see the gracefully paddling of swan feet.  The King of the Teleri had been restored, and for that her heart was lighter somewhat. Looking down, an oyster catches Unien's eyes, and she extends a hand, scooping it up carefully in the palm of one hand. She reaches out with the tapered forefinger of the other hand and rubs the tip along the ridges of the opening of the shell. Her lips purse together as she softly croones to the oyster. She remembers, as she croones, coaxing pearls from oysters in just this way, and scattering them upon the banks of the Swanhaven, for a small Earwen to find. Ah, yes, she remembers the squeals.
 But, she thinks to herself as she gives the dolphin one last caress, sending him on his way, still burdened was the heart of Ulmo, Lord of Waters. 

When the Ainur, at the direction of Er Ilúvatar, sang the world into being, it was Ulmo who sang into being the waters of the world, who caused them to have the fluid, never constant power they possess. For among the Ainur, Ulmo was the best singer, and sweet, strong, and from his part of the song of Creation did water gain the ability to transform from rivers, streams, oceans, ponds, to ice, and hail and clouds and steam and mist. Such was Ulmo's love of music that he taught the Firstborn, particularly the Teleri, the making of it, and when their voices, clear and bright and dulcet, blend and rise in songs, it is his melodies they sing, in truth. Above all others, the Teleri hear his songs in the babbling brooks, the tinkling of streams, the rush of waterfalls, the roar of the sea.

Yet for all this, rarely did the Lord of the Waters stride upon the surface of the world, nor did he take a place among his brothers and sisters. Seldom was his voice heard at the Council of Máhanaxar, the Ring of Doom,  just outside the western gates of Valmar, where gathered the Valar in council. Attended by only his two Maiar, he resided in his watery palace, Ulmonan, on the bottom of Vaiya.

Unien is shaken out of her reverie by a change in the water currents.  Schools of fish, responding to the distrubance, abruptly turn and swim off in different directions, confused, as she was confused by this brief chaos.  Then she feels the finger like brushing of the thoughts of Ulmo, touching her thoughts. She bows her head and lowers her eyes in respect to the lone Lord of the Seas. Forgotten in the palm of her hand, the oyster opens up and unveils its treasure. "Yes, my Lord," Unien murmurs as she lifts her head. Without truly seeing the oyster, she returns it to its place upon the sea bed and, gathering herself about, she speeds to the watery palace of the King of the Sea. Her Lord has been summoned to the side of the Lord of the West and prepares, even now, to take himself to the sacred mount, Taniquetil.  Heavy is the Heart of the Lord of the West, and disquieted is the Lord of Waters. Unien pauses in her journey back to the palace of Ulmo, Ulmonan, rising to the surface of the ocean and casting her eyes skyward. Overhead, the skies have darkened, clouds laden with rain gathering.  Both sky and seas are troubled, thinks the Lady of the Sea. What bodes this for those who must exist betwixt the two?  What bodes this for them all?

Fireside Chat -- Races: Hobbits

Present:

Jillian Amster         (jillianamster)

AelKennyr Rhiano 

Lihan Taifun           

Shawn Daysleeper 

Rhûn Darkmoon     (zu.dragoone)

Summary:

Tolkien used the terms “halfling” and “hobbit” interchangeably. Other (later) authors use “halfling” for their short races.

Tolkien hobbits are short (typically 3 feet / 1 m tall) and plump. They are known for their large, hairy feet, and they do not wear shoes. They are fond of food (six meals a day, by preference). They are rural and conservative, and dislike “adventure”, or anything out of the ordinary or inconvenient. They take their family trees seriously, and are interested in local history, though not necessarily in events outside their borders. The Movie depiction of the Shire is very accurate.

Jillian's character is based on a kender from the Dragonlance series. Kender are considered “halflings” (beings like short humans), though not “hobbits”. They are taller and leaner than “hobbits”, more adventurous and energetic, and less homebodies. They are prone to “wanderlust”, curious and mischievous. Their curiosity leads them to pick up interesting objects; they don't think of this as “stealing”, though it exasperates other races with a stronger sense of property ownership. Their feet are like human feet, and they wear shoes.

One important feature of roleplaying a halfling is that a halfling views humans, elves, and similar races as “giants”, and themselves as “normal sized”.

A Tolkien hobbit would be unlikely to go on an “adventure” voluntarily, for the fun of it. So you would have to explain how your character was pushed into the story.  Remember that some of our most popular RP characters are ordinary people who were not particularly looking for excitement.

Jillian Amster:          Hi! Is this where they're having the discussion group on halflings?

AelKennyr Rhiano:  It is! Please, join us :)

Lihan Taifun:            it is!

Jillian Amster beams, hopping into a seat, "Great! Something I finally know about!"

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Do you rp a hobbit somewhere?

Jillian Amster coughs, "Hobbits are different. I guess they're sorta cousins to the general halfling."

Lihan Taifun:            so in what way is your character different from a Tolkien hobbit?

Jillian Amster:          Well, she's more based on the Dragonlance kender, though not fully. Not as much of a homebody farmer type, but taller, leaner, more energetic. Sort of more the Tallfellow strain, instead of Stout.

Lihan Taifun:            ok; we don't currently have any halflings of any sort in Fourth Age, but you never know who we might have in the future

Shawn Daysleeper:  it would be interesting to have some halflings

AelKennyr Rhiano:  And I really would like to know more about the differences between Hobbits and halfings :)

Lihan Taifun:            yes, that too! I know nothing about Dragonlance

Jillian Amster:          Well, DL kender are like hobbits, but more mishievous. They get what's called "wanderlust" and are natural "borrowers", though they don't steal for greed. Only curiosity.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  So they are called kinder in Dragonlance?

Jillian Amster:          Yes, because of their size and outward naivetee, they seem "childish"....so kender.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  kender=kinder=child

Lihan Taifun:            right

AelKennyr Rhiano:  I get it :)

Jillian Amster:          Exactly. I sort of mishmash the two.

Shawn Daysleeper:  nods

AelKennyr Rhiano:  How tall do kender get?

Jillian Amster:          Just below dwarf height if I recall.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Are you feet hairy , too? blushes as he asks

Jillian Amster giggles, "No! We halfling are blessed with naturally smooth skin."

Lihan Taifun:            I see she is wearing boots

AelKennyr Rhiano:  That is a big difference

Jillian Amster kicks her boots off. See?

Shawn Daysleeper:  yes I see

AelKennyr Rhiano:  lol

Lihan Taifun:            how does playing a halfling affect your role-play? What makes you different from someone of another race?

Jillian Amster:          Well, being smaller and quicker tends to affect my roleplay...I'm not likely to intimidate anyone.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Are kinder consider halfing because of their size?

Jillian Amster:          I try to see the RP world through the eyes of someone who left her "normal" sized world, and has entered a world of giants.

Jillian Amster:          Yes, kender are an adaptation of the halfling. And Tolkien used halfling and hobbit interchangeably.

Lihan Taifun:            ok, I can see it would be an important point that everything is giant-sized to you

Jillian Amster:          Yes, I even refer to human characters as "giants". Or "Big'uns."

Lihan Taifun smiles

AelKennyr Rhiano:  What is the origin of the kender?

Jillian Amster:          According to DL, when the gods created dwarves, the dwarven god wanted assistants. The dwarves helped in the immortal forge, and also mined materials. One day they found a magic gem, and all wanted it. Some wanted it for it's wealth, some It exploded, and the dwarves who were curious became kender. The ones who were interested in the science of it became gnomes.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  cool

Lihan Taifun:            so kender have close association with dwarves?

Jillian Amster:          Direct descent, religiously speaking. Of course, that was at the beginning of the world and such....they're separate races in the DL world.

Lihan Taifun:            do they still feel some kinship to dwarves?

Jillian Amster:          Yes, though it's not exactly always mutual. The dwarves are well-aware of the kender's different ideas about "ownership"....such as there isn't any.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  lol

Jillian Amster:          My character departs from the DL kender a lot in mentality.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  How so?

Jillian Amster:          Mentally, I model myself more after my perception of Lidda the halfling rogue. I do steal, and it's not purely innocent curiosity. My character is perky and jovial, but she's fully capable of killing without regret. Possibly even murder. Light and bouncy with a dark streak...lol

Lihan Taifun:            is Lidda a literary character?

Jillian Amster:          From Dungeons and Dragons originally, though there are numerous novels and short stories involving or featuring her.

Lihan Taifun:            ok

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Well, they definitely don't sound very hobit-like

Jillian Amster:          No....not every halfling, or even kender, is a thief. But the ones that are are not generally accidental thieves. Though just about every kender is a kleptomaniac. They just see everything as a wonder, and want to just grab it to check out later. Then they forget they have it.

Lihan Taifun:            and what happens to all that stuff they collect?

Jillian Amster:          It gets "borrowed" by other kender, or falls out of their pouches, or they leave it somewhere to make room for something else. In kender society, an "heirloom" is something that the kender has for more than 3 weeks...lol

{Rhûn arrives. Greetings.}

Lihan Taifun:            what else do we want to know about a race? I can't believe we ran out of things to say about halflings

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Well, could you tell us about hobbits, Lihan? They are obviously different.

Jillian Amster:          Hobbits? They're more rural, I guess. Generally shorter, stouter, and yes...the hairy feet! Jillian Amster grins and wiggles her toes.

Rhûn Darkmoon looks confused, 'Pardon I thought it was hobbit we were hearing of today?'

Lihan Taifun:            Jillian is a "halfling" from outside the Tolkien tradition, so we have been hearing about her character

Rhûn Darkmoon nods in understanding, 'Ahh, thank you.'

Lihan Taifun:            Tolkien hobbits are generally conservative, law-abiding to the point of stuffiness, and don't generally like "adventure"

Lihan Taifun:            so the ones that do go for more than an afternoon stroll are considered eccentric

Jillian Amster:          Pretty much. Very community-minded.

Rhûn Darkmoon chuckles and is glad he's not a hobbit

Lihan Taifun:            right, very community minded. Lihan Taifun stares at Rhun. Nope, I can't imagine you as a hobbit

Rhûn Darkmoon grins back at the sweet lady, 'I'm glad of that.'

Jillian Amster:          Favor food and drink, comfort and leisure.

Lihan Taifun:            oh, right, as you said, hobbits love their food!

Jillian Amster:          One of the ladies I RP with is a full hobbit.

Lihan Taifun:            yes?

Jillian Amster:          Though she's one of the eccentric types...she's a cleric of Yolanda.

Lihan Taifun:            a "full hobbit" in the Tolkien style?

Jillian Amster:          Pretty much. Hairy feet, great cook, doesn't like fighting or violence.

Lihan Taifun:            heh heh. and who is Yolanda?

Jillian Amster:          Yolanda is basically the halfling goddess of nature and healing, the Hearth Mother of the halflings and hobbits. Though dwarves honor her as well, even if they don't truly "worship" her.

Lihan Taifun:            interesting

Jillian Amster:          My character follows Brandobaris, the halfling god of trickery and theivery. I have a NC on him if anyone would like it. :)

Rhûn Darkmoon:     'With all respect, Lady Jillian, I.. I'd like to hear more on hobbits themselves.'... blushes

Jillian Amster:          Oh, no problem.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  I didn't know there were half-hobbits?

Jillian Amster:          I've never heard of a half-hobbit. To be honest, most normal-sized folks like hobbits, dwarves, and so on tend to stick with their own kind.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Aren't hobbits rather clannish?

Jillian Amster:          Oh yes...even within members of the same clan, certain family lines *within* the clan were cliquish. Take Bilbo's family... The Baggins part of the family had a very strained relationship with the Sackville-Bagginses.

Lihan Taifun:            true

Rhûn Darkmoon looks at the Most Beautiful lady Lihan and smiles, 'My lady, they were rural then in their lifestyle? They were not city folk?'

Lihan Taifun:            they had no large cities

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Please, pardon me, all, but as I ask Lady Lihan to devote her time on researching hobbits, I would dearly like to hear from our resident Tolkien expert."

Rhûn Darkmoon smiles at Ael and nods in agreement.'

Lihan Taifun:            oh, and I assumed everyone knew about hobbits already. didn't really do that much research. it true they were rural

Jillian Amster:          As I recall, Bree was the largest urban area they were found in numbers.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  No, I know a bit, but I would like to know more, in comparison to Jilly's kender.

Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'I.. I do confess it is Tolkien's world that is my passion, even though I have yet to learn very much about it.'

Lihan Taifun:            Bree, and the settlements in the Shire, would be more what we would call "villages". hobbit probably wouldn't enjoy a big city. I can't imagine one without a plot of garden

Jillian Amster:          Bree might be considered a "town", since it was on a crossroads, but it also wasn't really a hobbit town.

Rhûn Darkmoon tilts is head in thought, 'So.. how the Shire was portrayed in the movie, was that accurate, do you think?'

Lihan Taifun:            the way the Shire was portrayed in the movies was excellent

Rhûn Darkmoon smiles, 'Oh good. I like to be able to 'see' things and the images from that help a lot.'

Lihan Taifun:            I think somewhere Tolkien describes hobbits as "clever, but they don't understand machinery more complicated than a bellows or a water mill". or something like that

AelKennyr Rhiano:  But then again, do they have the need for more complicated machinery?

Lihan Taifun:            that is just it, they don't need or want more complicated machinery

Rhûn Darkmoon grins, 'But they did seem very clever at finding food and Ale, my Lady.'

Lihan Taifun:            and they love to have their legal documents written up very proper, with seven witnesses signing in red ink

Rhûn Darkmoon:     'Complicated legal documents hardly point to a simple mind then.'

Lihan Taifun:            they never miss a meal if they can help it -- six meals a day

AelKennyr Rhiano:  You never starve with a hobbit!

Lihan Taifun:            and it was only at the end, when the Shire was becoming corrupted, that "industrialization" was setting in. and so Our Heros had to stop that industrialization, and restore the Shire to its roots (and leaving that out of movies was a serious blow to the themes of the book)

Jillian Amster:          In the novel, wasn't the industrialization caused by Sauruman and Wyrmtongue? They had snuck into the Shire and taken residence?

Lihan Taifun:            right, Jillian. so it was outside evil influences creating industrialization and pollution, and bad government

Rhûn Darkmoon nods and listens in utter fascination

Lihan Taifun:            left to themselves, the hobbits had a rural, pre-industrial utopia

Jillian Amster:          Then again, they were also very vulnerable.

Lihan Taifun:            in what way?

Jillian Amster:          Well, so long as they were undiscovered, they were fine. But the Age of Man was approaching, and the presence of the One Ring in the Shire had already basically exposed it to the world. Being innocent and without military defences isn't the best way to be discovered by the world, sadly.

Lihan Taifun:            so they had very little defense against armed attack

Jillian Amster:          Or manipulation, since they were ignorant of the world at large.

Lihan Taifun:            does anything protect a people agains manipulation?

Jillian Amster:          Knowledge helps, though people believe what they want to believe.

Lihan Taifun:            more "sophisitocated" cultures succumb, as well

Rhûn Darkmoon:     'Other than the presence of the Ring though, they'd have little reason to be attacked I'd imagine?'

Jillian Amster:          They had little to offer a conqueror.

Lihan Taifun:            right

Rhûn Darkmoon:     'Except great parties, apparently.'.. grins

Jillian Amster giggles.

Lihan Taifun:            which may be why they escaped notice all these centuries

Lihan Taifun:            also, it should be noted that hobbits take their family trees seriously, and know all their relationships by heart, and are likely to recite them all, if you give them half a chance

Jillian Amster:          Oh yes...tracking lineage is a popular art.

Rhûn Darkmoon:     'I.. I can understand the need for that.' Rhûn Darkmoon tilts his head in thought, 'But in such small communities, there would be a need for it, would there not? To ensure none married too closely or that families did not intermarry too often?'

Lihan Taifun:            it was never explained what they consider "too closely", but you would think that would be an issue

Jillian Amster:          Well, I believe there were examples of cousins marrying. How close the cousins were, I don't know.

Lihan Taifun:            right

Rhûn Darkmoon:     'It seems to me, with their keeping of the family trees, and the legal documents that they were meticulous with the order of knowledge, yes?'

Jillian Amster:          Knowledge they deemed important...more traditions than true knowledge.

Lihan Taifun:            right, very concerned with keeping in order the knowledge they considered important

Rhûn Darkmoon:     'But were not their family trees true knowledge? As too with the documents?'

Jillian Amster:          I wouldn't call it knowledge in the sense of discovery and education.

Lihan Taifun:            books of geneology and local history were considered very important

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Why not?

Lihan Taifun:            they did not have great curiosity for what was outside their immediate lives

Jillian Amster:          Exactly. They were more interested in tracking what was already established, not discovering new ideas.

Lihan Taifun:            "education" seems to have been mostly on the apprenticeship system -- learning what would be immediately useful for a trade

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Which is a pre-industrial form of education

Jillian Amster:          It seemed to me that most hobbits followed the family business...farming mostly, or crafts.

Lihan Taifun:            right

Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'It was the useful, practical form of knowledge. Not the pursuit of information simply to gather it.' Rhûn Darkmoon smiles, 'I wonder just how thick the family recipe books became over time.'

AelKennyr Rhiano:  and had been used for centuries, historically in Europe and England.

Lihan Taifun:            and a pre-industrial society frequently values ideas that are historically known to work, rather than innovations, which might or might not work. a conservative society

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Easy to see why. An idea goes bad, and people could starve, for example. I think it is important not to judge the hobbit way of life by industrial standards

Lihan Taifun:            exactly. There is not a lot of margin for an idea that doesn't work. And not much place for someone who goes gallivanting around in the wilderness instead of doing productive work

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Tolkien, I believe, grew up in the Birmingham area. So names like Underhill and the description of the industrialization of Isengard and the Shire..those were comments on England's industrialization.

Lihan Taifun:            "cutting down trees and polluting the air and the rivers"

Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'I think it was a very effective comment on it too, when I consider the destruction of the forests around Isengard.'

AelKennyr Rhiano:  yes

Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'Yes.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  And we must not forget the influence of WWI.

Lihan Taifun:            weapons technology?

Rhûn Darkmoon:     'The destruction of an innocent way of life, perhaps?'

Jillian Amster:          And an aggressive fighting force.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  yes, yes, and yes

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Nevertheless there is a strong theme of despair in the face of new mechanized warfare that Tolkien himself had experienced in the trenches of World War I. The development of a specially bred Orc army, and the destruction of the environment to aid this, also have modern resonances; and the effects of the Ring on its users evoke the modern literature of drug addiction as much as any historic quest literature.

that came from Wiki, but i have encountered other sources who say the same.

When you are talking about the shire, Some describe the element of the passing of a mythical "Golden Age" as influenced by Tolkien's concerns about the growing encroachment of urbanisation and industrialisation into the "traditional" English lifestyle and countryside.

Traditional is a good description for the hobbit way of life.

Rhûn Darkmoon:     'I have often wondered why, with such a simple and fulfiling lifestyle such as that enjoyed by the hobbits, one would ever seek more.'

Lihan Taifun:            very few of them did. Bilbo didn't want to go off on his adventure. and neither did Frodo

AelKennyr Rhiano:  But the downside to their peaceful lifestyle was that it did not promote individuality.

Jillian Amster:          Well...children, if they're lucky, live simple and blessed lives, but they still want to leave home and explore.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Lihan is right

Rhûn Darkmoon nods

AelKennyr Rhiano:  So it would be fair to say that to rp a hobbit could be difficult, if you were true to their culture as explored in Tolkien's works.

Rhûn Darkmoon tilts his head and looks at Ael, 'How did their lifestyle not promote individuality? Can you explain that please?'

Jillian Amster:          Well, you'd almost have to play an "eccentric" hobbit...or an NPC.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  ooooh....Well, Rhun, in pre-industrial society, great emphasis is placed on conformity.

Rhûn Darkmoon nods and listens

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Group mentality, the good of the whole. To strike out on your own, to stand out, to be a rebel...that was very dangerous, to the person and to their community. It happened far less than books and movies portray.

Rhûn Darkmoon:     'So how would you definite individuality? You are not talking of personality but more living a life that pursues individual interest rather than a collective interest?

Jillian Amster:          One of the worst punishments in early colonial America was banishment.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Correct, Rhun.

Rhûn Darkmoon nods, 'Ahh, thank you for explaining that.'

AelKennyr Rhiano blushes...np

Rhûn Darkmoon smiles shy back

Lihan Taifun:            or you would need to play a character who was forced by extreme circumstances to do something that wasn't in his nature

AelKennyr Rhiano:  yes

Jillian Amster:          True, but that still qualified as "eccentricity" in the eyes of Tolkien's hobbits.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  But the tendency in rpers is to play a hobbit with wanderlust, forgetting that it was not that quality that thrust Bilbo or Frodo into the world beyond the Shire.

Lihan Taifun:            Even the Tooks,who were considered "adventurous" ... might go on a trip of a couple days to Bree

Rhûn Darkmoon:     'Perhaps that is because their attention is drawn to the heroes, as attention so often is. So few in RP in any role really seek to play an ordinary person, doing ordinary things. Yet.. yet these are the ones who are the cornerstone of society.'

Jillian Amster:          Well, once they had come back, they never really fit back in with the others. Bilbo wanted to explore again, and Frodo kept correspondence with elves. Even Sam, who stayed behind, stood out as an almost mythical character. Hobbit roleplayers could have grown up influenced by that.

AelKennyr Rhiano:  And who often have the greatest adventures....looks at Shawn...right?

Rhûn Darkmoon smiles, 'Indeed they do.'

AelKennyr Rhiano smiles

Shawn Daysleeper smiles

AelKennyr Rhiano:  Shawn has taken a sea merchant and become one of the most loved rp characters of the 4th Age.

Lihan Taifun:            he has!

Shawn Daysleeper blushes

Rhûn Darkmoon smiles and nods in total agreement

Lihan Taifun:            it doesn't hurt that Nole is one of the few characters in Alqualonde who can cook

AelKennyr Rhiano:  lol And Lihan has taken a dwarf mother, and made everyone wait with anticipation to see if she would be safe.