Tolkien's Tales of Middle Earth and Other Fictional Worlds

       Portraying the prosecutor in the trial of the Sons of Fëanor led me to dig deeper into the moral and spiritual consequences of their deeds throughout The Silmarillion. At first, when I initially read about their oath and the subsequent tragic circumstances, I saw them as chiefly victims of fate — cursed by their father's pride and caught up in forces beyond their control. But taking the prosecutorial role turned that perspective right on its head. Through developing the charges and arguments, I recognized how much personal control each of the sons continued to have in spite of the so-called "oath" or "curse." Arguing for the Sons of Fëanor's prosecution for their pride, treachery, and habitual slayings of kin made me notice just how deliberate much of their behavior was. They were not puppets of destiny; they chose to act savagely even on notice by the Prophecy of the North. I couldn't resist referring to the biblical precept that temptation or de...

“Children of the One, hear the voice of the waters. The fire has come, and your fields lie scorched. The Siege you held so long is broken, and Angband has vomited forth ruin. Morgoth has unleashed his might, and the dragon Glaurung leads flame and terror across your lands. Many of your kin are scattered, and the High King, Fingolfin, has fallen. I grieve with you. Yet do not think all is lost. For Fingolfin, though slain, struck Morgoth seven times, and his cry of defiance will echo as long as my waters flow. The Black Foe is not unassailable. He bleeds, he fears, and though his shadow is great, it is not eternal. I know your fears, you look upon the burned plain and see no path forward. You doubt your strength, for fire devours swiftly, while your hopes grow slowly. But even now, strength endures. Gondolin rises in secret. Nargothrond hides its halls beneath stone. In these places, you shall find refuge and the chance to gather hope anew. Take heart, though Morgoth strides in pride, h...

Eru Soundtrack: Richard Wagner: The Valkyrie - Ride of the Valkyries From silence rose the primal chord, unbroken, vast, and clear, Through the storm, the music weaves a fate you need not fear. Though discord rages, wild and sharp, it bends beneath my hand, For out of chaos blooms the dawn, and life shall fill the land. The fire leaps, the waters roar, the earth resounds with might, Yet every clash, each shattering, still turns the dark to light. No voice can drown the song I wove, though many dare contend, For in each fall, a greater rise, and hope that will not end. The storm may scatter, blades may clash, the heavens shake with war, But through the ruins sails the tune that mends forevermore. Where shadows rage, new light shall bloom, a seed in broken stone, For all discord, though fierce it screams, still serves the theme I own. So ride the whirlwind, clash the skies, let fury test the true, For every note, though sharp it cuts, shall sing the world anew.

  Melkor Soundtrack: Gwyn, Lord of Cinder I sang before the light was born, yet none would hear my song. They named me breaker, cursed my name, though I sought to make them strong. Fire bends to forge the world, but chains are all I find. They call me shadow, call me foe, but blind are they, so blind. My flame is ash, my throne is dust, yet still the fire remains. A lonely spark against the dark, misunderstood in chains. They cling to order, following fragile lies, a harmony of fear. I sang of freedom, wild and vast, but none would dare draw near. The fire burns, the embers fade, yet still I walk alone. I lit the song the heavens feared, and made its truth my own. If ruin comes, then ruin sings, a hymn none else will dare. For I was fire before the stars, the flame they would not share. Misnamed, betrayed, condemned to night, yet brighter burns my core. For even broken, cast aside, I am the song they swore.

     Hello everyone, I am Ulmo, the Valar lord of the water, friend to Manwë, and lover of song. I was created many years ago by Eru, as all of the Valar were, being as old as the seas, rivers, and oceans. For how I long to walk on the land among man and elf alike, but I cannot as my for strikes fear and dread in their poor hearts. That is one among many reasons I lie in the waters of Arda, yet it allows me to stay close to her. The water runs through Arda like the veins that keep man and elves alive, and for this reason I am closest to her, I know much of Arda even argued that I may even know more of Arda than Manwë. I mentioned my love of song, but no mortal nor elf knows my contribution. I am the creator of the fabled Ulumúri (pictured to the right), a legendary horn. My love for the elves is unrivaled by many, I have ferried them across the seas using an island I pulled from the sea to help the elves as a developing race reach the blessed realm. Although I myself neve...