So the original Harry Hotspur, may he rest in peaces(s), was one of five children, according to that source of all knowledge, Wikipedia. His siblings were, respectively, Sir Thomas, Sir Ralph, Margaret, and the baby of the family, Alan.
And that nose has got to be genetic, right?
All of which leads me to only one possible conclusion.
Alan Percy has run away from home, is larking around in Sherwood forest, and is the bane of his older brother’s existence. He’d better hope Kate doesn’t find him
I decided to make gifs of Jon Talbain from Vampire Savior: The lord of Vampire. Also I really think that he has the potential of Marverl Vs. Capcom Infinite, but time will tell. @nessawolfgirl@jurassicreptile@raxceni
Thesis on Morgoth and Sauron and their roles as Dark Lords (Part 2/4)
For my Tolkien project, I decided I was going to explore the dynamics of Morgoth and Sauron and see if I could make an estimate as towhether or not one was more effective as dark lord than the other. I did this in regard as I would not be able to debate whether or not one was more powerful (seeing as the Valar are higher beings then the Maiar, and seeing that Melkor was the eldest, he of course is indisputably stronger than Sauron).
However, just because you’re more powerful doesn’t always mean you’re more effective. We see this all throughout history in examples where generals themselves might not be very capable in battle but are able to gain mastery by being clever strategist. Therefore that inspired me to research if one could argue whether or not Morgoth or Sauron came closer to accomplishing their dominion over Middle Earth (or Beleriand).
I did this by looking at a few key characteristics– longevity of rule (but more importantly, what was achieved), servants (those who served under them and attributed to their victories), their primary enemies (or the state of those they fought against), as well as their defeat (and what caused the finale fall). Then I concluded with their legacy and the impact they have throughout the legendarium.
Armies are what win wars and it’s important to employ those who will help you and not hurt you under your command. What is also important is your relationship with said army and servants. Those who desire your victory will work harder to accomplish it. Those who are merely doing so in order to survive do not possess the same initiative.
I am not at all an expert, just a very passionate individual in Tolkien’s lore. Therefore some of what is stated throughout this essay may be based upon faulted research and weighed heavily by personal interpretation and opinion. So please do keep such in mind. Most of the information here was found within The Silmarillion, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, The Unfinished Tales, as well as Tolkien Gateway and Wikipedia.
Major Servants(* most of these summaries taken from the Tolkien Gateway)
Sauron: The greatest and most trusted servant of Morgoth before and during the First Age. Originally a Maia of Aulë named “Mairon”, he was ensnared by Melkor and as “Gorthaur” he became Morgoth’s lieutenant in his Wars of Beleriand. He demonstrated the ability to take the form of a wolf, a serpent, and a vampire.
Glaurung: First of the dragons and one of the foremost lieutenants of Morgoth during the First Age– possessed a unique power to charm and ensare his prey and said to be the mightiest of dragons.
Ancalagon: Greatest of the winged Dragons of Morgoth. Morgoth unleashed the winged dragons, with Ancalagon at their van. Ancalagon drove back the forces of the Valar, but was stopped by Eärendil.
Gothmog: High-captain of Angband, one of the chief servants of Morgoth with a rank equal to that of Sauron. One of the Maiar that followed Melkor to exile, and because of either his brilliant mind or because of his ability to assume an immensely powerful physical form, he was made the Lord of Balrogs.
Carcharoth: Bred from the foul breed of Draugluin, the first Werewolf, and fed with elvish and mannish flesh by Morgoth himself. He was the greatest, most powerful wolf to ever live. Carcharoth was set as a guard on the Gates of Angband, and later he mortally wounded both Huan, the Hound of Valinor, and Beren
Dragons: Also known as the Great Worms; they were evil creatures seen mostly in the northern Middle-earth. Greedy, cunning, seductive and malicious, a creation by Morgoth out of fire and sorcery sometime in the First Age. Included species such as fire-drakes and cold-drakes.
Balrogs: Balrogath (“Balrog-kind”) were Maiar corrupted by Morgoth during the creation of Arda, who cloaked themselves in shadow and flame and carried whips and swords. Famed Balrogs include Gothmog, slain by Ecthelion, and Durin’s Bane, slain by Olórin (Gandalf).
Draugluin: The first werewolf. Bred from wolves and inhabited with an evil spirit sent by Morgoth himself, Draugluin was the sire of all Werewolves of Beleriand, and dwelled with his master Sauron in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the former watchtower of Finrod Felagund. He was slain by Huan during the Quest for the Silmaril, though informed Sauron that Huan was present. Beren and Lúthien used his pelt to sneak into Angband
Giants, Goblins, Trolls: Twisted creatures, created by Morgoth.
Orcs: Orcs were the footsoldiers of evil overlords - Morgoth, Sauron and Saruman. Made in the mockery of elves sometime during the Great Darkness.
Ungoliant (and her children): Ungoliant was an evil spirit in a form that greatly resembled a massive Spider. Ungoliant’s origins are shrouded in mystery. It is thought that she may have been one of the Maiar, or a lesser spirit, whom Melkor corrupted long ago, but she is not listed among the Ainur. It is also said that she came from the darkness above the skies of Arda, leading some to believe that she may be an incarnation of darkness or emptiness itself.
Maeglin: Maeglin was an Elf, the son of Eöl the Dark Elf and Aredhel daughter of Fingolfin. He lived in the First Age of Middle-earth and was a lord of Gondolin, chief of the House of the Mole. Morgoth promised both Gondolin and Idril in return for the location of the hidden city, thus luring Maeglin into the greatest treachery done in the Elder Days. He gave him a token that would allegedly keep him safe from the sack.
If one thing could be noted is that Morgoth had a decent understanding of hierarchy. He expressed a remarkable ability within the Silmarillion to gain trust in those around him– something in which could be his greatest ability besides strength.
It could easily be said that Morgoth possessed greater servants than Sauron; seeing as many were of his own creations. He had the Balrogs under his authority, as well as dragons and being of unknown origins. He wasn’t suffering in terms of followers and it could even be said that he was a decent lord in terms of servitude.
While man suffered under his lash, the orcs were seen as masters in their own right. Maeglin was offered Gondolin upon it’s surrender and the hand of the woman he loved. Gothmog led armies; Glaurung, Ancalagon, and Carchathor were given life. Morgoth didn’t make empty promises– perhaps they weren’t always honest, but he was able to give individuals a purpose.
He didn’t abuse what trust was granted to him once he had what he desired and therefore possessed a rather impressive relationship with those who followed him. While some, such as Ungoliant, would come to betray him– such were few and far between, unlike Sauron whose servants often had their own ideas..
Sauron Major Servants
Nazgûl: Known as the Nine Riders or Black Riders, were Sauron’s “most terrible servants” in Middle-earth. Sometime during the Second, Sauron gave nine Rings of Power to powerful mortal Men. It is said that three of the Nine were lords of Númenor corrupted by Sauron, and one was a king among the Easterlings
One-Ring: An artifact created by Sauron in the Second Age for the purpose of ruling over the Free peoples of Middle-earth, mainly the Elves. It was also known as the Ruling Ring, Great Ring of Power and Isildur’s Bane because it caused the death of Isildur.
Thuringwethil: Vampire servant of Sauron during the First Age. She was Sauron’s messenger, but was caught in the battle between her master, Lúthien and Huan at Tol-in-Gaurhoth (“Isle of Werewolves”). She was slain either by the Hound of Valinor or in the collapse of Minas Tirith. Lúthien later used her cloak to sneak into Angband during the Quest for the Silmaril. Because of Thuringwethil’s ability to change forms, she may have been a Maia
Witch-king: The Witch-king of Angmar was the chief of the Nazgûl, King of Angmar and Sauron’s great captain in his wars. A wraith, the Witch-king of Angmar was nearly indestructible, a terrifying warrior, and a cunning strategist.
Mouth of Sauron: Sauron’s servant and representative at the end of the Third Age. He had the title Lieutenant of Barad-dûr, since he was so strongly devoted to the Dark Lord. The Mouth of Sauron was one of the Black Númenóreans.
Saurman: Saruman the White was the first of the order of Wizards (or Istari) who came to Middle-earth as Emissaries of the Valar in the Third Age. He was the leader of the White Council. In Sindarin his name was Curunír, which meant “Man of Skill”. It soon became clear that Saruman desired to possess the One Ring himself.
Shelob: A great spider-like creature akin to those of Nan Dungortheb in Beleriand, the last offspring of the demonic Ungoliant. Shelob fed off with all living things, such as Elves and Men, but as these became scarce in the area, she fed upon orcs. Sauron would sometimes send her captured prisoners for whom he had no further use and amuse himself watching how she played with her prey.
Ar-Pharazôn: Ar-Pharazôn the Golden was the twenty-fifth and last King of Númenor. He was the son of Gimilkhâd, who was the younger brother of the twenty-fourth King, Tar-Palantir. Ar-Pharazôn’s willful rule, and his great pride, led directly to the world-changing Downfall of Númenor and the founding of the realms in exile of Arnor and Gondor.
Fellbeasts: Winged creatures with beak and claws, similar to birds but much larger than any other flying beast. They were used as winged mounts of the Nazgûl
Giants, Goblins, Trolls: Twisted creatures, created by Morgoth.
Orcs: Orcs were the footsoldiers of evil overlords - Morgoth, Sauron and Saruman. Made in the mockery of elves sometime during the Great Darkness.
Smeagle/Golum: was a creature who bore the One Ring. He lived in the Misty Mountains for most of his life. In T.A. 2941, he lost the Ring to Bilbo Baggins. For the rest of his life he sought to recover his "precious”. Eventually he would come to seize the Ring from Frodo in Sammath Naur. In his euphoria he died and destroyed the Ring after falling into the cracks of Mount Doom.
Werewolves: Wolves, inhabited by dreadful spirits, they were created (or a least corrupted from some other form) by Sauron, who was their master, and who took the shape of a great wolf himself at least once.
Wargs: An evil breed of demonic wolves, suggesting that they were inhabited by evil spirits. The origin of the breed is unknown - perhaps they were among the creatures bred by Morgoth in the Elder Days. In any case, Gandalf listed the Wargs among Sauron’s servants in the late Third Age.
Vampire Bats: Vampires were mysterious bat-like creatures in the service of Morgoth and of Sauron. The only vampire whose name is recorded in the annals of Arda is Sauron’s servant Thuringwethil, but Sauron himself took the form of a vampire on at least one occasion, to flee Huan.
Flies: Tiresome, flying insects.
For an individual who was as persuasive and charismatic as he, it was almost more so beneficial to be an enemy of Sauron than among his servants, to which he arguably held a weak relationship with.
The orcs within the Lord of the Rings constantly confess to fearing him and seem almost bitter of their existence– often being fed to Shelob; who she herself remarked that Sauron believed her to be nothing more then a pet, in which he was gravely mistaken.
Saurman and Golum both expressed a willingness to betray Sauron as soon as they were able and the Nazgûl, his chief servants, were only obeying on the account that their fates were doomed to the One Ring.
Even Ar-Pharazôn humored Sauron in a mere attempt for immortality and therefore many trusted little in the Dark Lord himself.
One could then argue is that Sauron’s greatest servant was the One Ring, which in reality, was him. Which– if one were familiar with the characteristic of Sauron, would be of no surprise that he trusted himself first and foremost.
Therefore Sauron was ignorant in the needs and desires of those in servitude to him and perhaps that was why he favored the more animalistic creatures in his service. Something to which couldn’t and wouldn’t doubt him.
Both possessed a various assortment of powerful individuals under their authority. However, Morgoth expressed a more natural ability to lead and keep those beneath his authority, sedated. Sauron was perfect at manipulating those around him, but could not establish a relationship as seemed almost natural to Morgoth. Besides, Morgoth even had the undying loyalty of Sauron, who trusted himself most of all. If he could seduce a maiar such as he, then that speaks levels to Morgoth’s influence in those who listened.
@drgrlfriend asked what my ultimate pick is for Stiles’ future job. Do I see the FBI as a good fit for him, or see him going into something else? And offered a lot of great alternative suggestions: small town Sheriff, consulting mage, mercinary Hunter, history professor…
There are a lot of good thoughts in here, but I’m going to start out by saying that I do not see Stiles being happy long-term in the FBI. I can understand why he would decide to go into it –– putting his investigative skills and desire to make a difference to good use. In theory, it sounds like a good fit. But I’ve never been thrilled with the idea of Stiles as a police officer because of all of the inherent red tape, the rules and regulations he’d have to accept and work around, and the authority he’d have to answer to… and the FBI will be a hundred times worse on all these counts.
So I imagine Stiles chafing and pushing against all the authority and restrictions, getting reprimanded constantly for doing the smart thing or the right thing instead of doing things the way they’re supposed to be done. I can picture him getting pulled off field work and thrown into some basement somewhere to do research –– because they know he’s brilliant, ok, but they can’t afford to have him going off-book in the field (and Stiles just isn’t the type of person not to go off book if he thought he could do more good that way).
Not to mention that –– assuming the FBI doesn’t have some sort of supernatural investigation division –– Stiles is going to undoubtedly encounter things he can’t explain to his superiors, cases where he recognizes that crime lord as a werewolf or realizes that series of deaths is caused by a wendigo, and then how is he supposed to handle that in the middle of all this bureaucracy?
Stiles is 100% suited for investigative work, but he’s not suited government jobs. My personal favorite job for him is a private detective, and the amazing thing with that is that he could take human jobs and supernatural ones, get help from his supernatural allies on things like tracking suspects and investigating crime scenes without having to explain away their qualifications to higher ups, and just generally do whatever he needs to do to get the job done. Picture Stiles Stilinski, Veronica Mars-style, snarking his way through solving cases, with Derek and Lydia dropping by from time to time to help him out.
“Draco,” an almost hesitant knock came at his door.
“Come in,” Draco’s voice sounded unnaturally low and scratchy in contrast to his mother’s smooth tones.
The ornate oak clicked open softly and he was greeted with the image of a teary-eyed Narcissa, who was so obviously trying to pull herself together for the sake of her son. Draco pushed his covers back and stood up, summoning all of the shrapnels of dignity he had left and using them to build the illusion of a strong exterior
“Mother,“ Draco whispered.
That was all it took. Narcissa was across the room in a second. She took Draco in her arms and, although he was bigger than her now, squeezed him as though she could shrink him small enough to fit in her pocket. Hide him away from what few dreadful things he had yet been forced to face.
Draco felt his mother start to draw back and fought to suppress a whimper. He studied her face and watched as she composed her strong, aristocratic features into the usual Malfoy mask that occupied them.
Draco reached a pale hand up and wiped a stray tear from his mother’s face.
“I’m okay,” he assured her. Or maybe he was assuring himself. Or maybe he was assuring both of them. Draco didn’t believe it, and he doubted his mother did either.
She didn’t answer, but nodded her head and set her lips in a grim line.
Narcissa fussed with her son’s fair hair and Draco frowned but made no move to stop her. “You’re wanted in your father’s study within the hour.”
Draco sucked in a breath of air and nodded his head in a single jerky motion.
Everyone communicated in nods and vague hand gestures lately. It was almost as though they were scared of using their voices too much. Which was oddly ironic, considering how they had all ended up here. Voicing opinions no one else wanted.
His mother exited the room and Draco - with a shaky exhale - made his way to the bathroom that was connected to his spacious bedroom. He stripped down with only a few seconds hesitation, still uneasy after an unfortunate incident with the wolf, Fenrir Greyback. Thankfully, the Dark Lord had called the obscenely large werewolf into some sort of emergency meeting before Draco had seriously injured him. Or been seriously injured.
As he showered, he wondered idly if this was how the Gryffindors had felt back in third year when Sirius Black had been on the loose. Nervous in their own house because of a lunatic hunting down the Chosen One. Hunting down Potter.
It was with a heavy heart that Draco stepped out of the shower and dressed. Nothing too fancy, this could hardly be considered a special occasion.
Draco wasn’t stupid, he was well aware of the reasoning behind his requested presence.
Requested. Draco scoffed ever so slightly at the word. As if he had a choice. If he didn’t show, he - and his mother - would be killed.
If he did show… he’d be punished. For his failure, and his father’s.
Deep breath. Sharp exhale. Draco put his hand on the doorknob to his father’s study. His eyes slid shut as he braced himself to open the door and face whatever was waiting for him on the other side.
Draco felt a delicate hand rest on his left shoulder lightly and he turned his head to meet his mother’s blue eyes. They held love and hints of reassurance, but Narcissa’s eyes had always been a direct window to her emotions, a trait she had unwillingly passed along to her son, and now they held barely concealed fear. Fear for the fate of the son she had raised. Fear for the boy who had no choice.
“Do you know-” Draco was cut off by the hesitant yet rough shaking of his mother’s head.
Grey eyes met blue one last time before Draco opened the door to his father’s study and stepped inside.
The tense atmosphere in the room prickled at Draco’s skin. His father refused to even look in Draco’s direction from his place in a chair in the edge of the room. On the flip side, his Auntie Bella looked positively ecstatic, smiling maniacally as the occasional giggle - which sounded suspiciously like a cackle - escaped her thin lips.
Lord Voldemort sat at the wooden desk in the centre of the room, stiffly perched in the same chair Draco’s father had sat in so many times before. There was something malicious glistening in his eyes. Though, that could just be one of the side effects of having red eyes. (Seriously, what muggle movie villain must the Dark Lord have based himself off of?)
The Dark Lord had always been intimidating but something was different this time.
“My Lord,” Draco regarded his master with a dip of his head.
“Draco,” The Dark Lord stood leisurely and a cold, cruel grin stretched across his white face as his snake, Nagini, slithered about near the bottoms of his robe. “You are to accompany us to Hogwarts, we have some… business to attend to.”
Draco had to restrain himself from furrowing his brow in confusion. (He could hear Pansy chastise him in his head, “Really, Draco, darling, that causes premature wrinkles,”).
“Yes, my Lord.”
Snow covered the Hogwarts grounds in a pillowy blanket. It seemed the sky, too, would have liked to cover the horrors that this war had conceived.
Draco walked behind his aunt and father, who were following the Dark Lord into the school. The irony of it all was not lost on Draco.
Familiar grey stone pillars towered around them as they entered the school. Every student in the vicinity - which wasn’t many, considering almost all of the students were already in the great hall - turned to glance in their direction before quickly looking away and flicking their eyes elsewhere, either at their shoes or towards the ceiling.
Draco watched silently as the doors to the great hall opened to accept their little group.
A hush fell over the already nearly quiet hall. Draco couldn’t think back to a time when the students had been this contained, not even after the death of Cedric Diggory, and it added to the ache he’d been feeling in his very soul since he had been marked a Death Eater, and therefore sealed his fate.
The Dark Lord stood at the front of the great hall, facing out towards the expanse of students.
“It has been brought to my attention that there are some,” the Dark Lord drawled and it made Draco regret ever using a similar tone, “who still resist my rule at this school.”
The Dark Lord’s eyes were skirting around the room - taking a particularly long look at Gryffindor table, Draco noted - before landing on Draco, himself.
A cruel smile stretched across his face and a shark’s mouth of teeth were put on display. “This will not be tolerated,” His words remained as calm and calculated as ever, but there were heavy notes of underlying anger in them that Draco only knew how to detect because the man (if he could even be called that) had been living in his house.
“And while I am unsure of what has given these students the false impression that Harry Potter is coming to save them,” He raised his arms up and glared cruelly out towards their audience, “No matter, I am here to right old wrongs, and give punishment to those who deserve it.”
Draco forced himself to stay still in his position between his Aunt Bellatrix and his father, Lucius. He was still confused as to why he, of all people, was asked to come along. He was also confused as to what they were doing here in the first place. Were they simply here to taunt the students with the hopelessness of their situation? No, he said he was here to ‘right old wrongs’ and to ‘give punishment’. Draco’s stomach flipped sickly as he realized the implications of what was happening.
This was his punishment.
Draco was no fool. He knew this was only the beginning. The Dark Lord surely had more planned than to force Draco to stand in front of his former peers and watch as he mocked them, like a petty schoolboy did a crush. Surely, there was more to come.
Sudden commotion dragged Draco out of his thoughts. He looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of uproar, and of course, it came from Gryffindor table. Specifically, from a certain boy known as Neville and a certain girl known as Ginny.
So, Potter’s sometimes-sidekick and his little girlfriend. Great.
“Harry is coming to save us you snake-faced bastard!” Longbottom burst out.
Girl Weasley stood next to him in a show of support, before yelling out, “Harry’s more of a leader than you could ever hope to be!”
The Dark Lord surveyed them with a front of amusement but there was a certain amount of malice shining in eyes. “Bellatrix, restrain them.”
“With pleasure, My Lord,” His Aunt smiled in that extra disturbing way of hers. She aimed a Petrificus Totalus at Longbottom and before the Weaselette could protest she was hit with one as well.
Alecto and Amycus Carrow were at the scene within seconds, where they exchanged grins and levitated the two defiant teenagers out of the great hall. Bellatrix skipped merrily behind them, humming a tune and laughing to herself occasionally. Draco grimaced in sympathy.
“Lucius,” The Dark Lord’s high, cold voice echoed in the suddenly silent again hall. “The boy.”
Alarms rang in Draco’s head as a heavy sense of foreboding fell upon him. His palms had started to sweat and he was fighting the urge to run.
Large hands that belonged to Draco’s father gripped his wrists and Draco could feel waves of confusion rolling around inside the hall.
The telltale static of a radio being turned on filled the room. Merlin, they were broadcasting this?
“Now,” The Dark Lord said, “You know what you’ve done.”
Draco’s heartbeat increased tenfold. He was trying to control his breathing as he risked a glance toward the tables.
His gaze landed first on Pansy. She looked terribly frightened as Blaise kept one hand on her arm, a look of set determination on his face. When he met Pansy’s eyes the look on her face shifted into defiance. But her eyes, her eyes held a question.
‘Should we help?’
Draco managed a small and subtle shake of his head and watched as tears filled her eyes. But Draco did not miss the slight flashing of relief. Pansy’s Slytherin self-preservation was still a strong part of her.
Good, Draco thought, Maybe she’ll make it through the War.
He directed a look at Blaise and knew he understood it perfectly as his shoulders slumped the smallest bit, his chin staying high in the air while he comforted Pansy.
Draco took a deep breath and turned his head to face the Dark Lord, who had used the time Draco had taken to watch his friends to speak of his greatness. Speak of how no one could disobey the Dark Lord and get away with it.
The task must be completed, no matter the consequences or difficulty.
Draco remembered those words from when he had first been given his assignment. An impossible task.
The Dark Lord stared directly at Draco as his long, white fingers curled around his wand. He whipped the wand up and pointed it at Draco.
Draco felt the grip of his father’s hands intensify in their place of holding Draco’s wrists behind his back.
Draco knew he should stare the Dark Lord down as he was punished. Knew he should exert some form of bravery. A way of showing he was not scared. But he was. He was so scared.
And although Draco knew he should do all of this, he also knew he wouldn’t. Because those were all the kinds of things a Gryffindor like Potter would do. And Draco was not a Gryffindor. He was a Slytherin through and through.
Lord M. is so composed in the daylight. And an imminence of the full moon makes him feel fire and wildness in his blood. In such days he always try to be away from Victoria. But however far they are he feels her smell, knows her mood, her state of health and her desires.
Thief~ “Alright, hand over your valubales, or i’ll gut
you like a fish!”
Me~ “Let me introduce myself, i am the Dragonborn,
master of the way of the voice, killer of the great Alduin. Defeater of Mirakk,
Lord Harkon, Ulfic Stormcloak. Assassinator of Titus Mede the Second. I am the listener of the Dark Brotherhood,
Grand Mage of Collage of Winterhold, Leader of the Companions and the Thief’s
Guild. I am the mortal Champion of Azura, Boethiah, Clavicus Vile, Hermaeus
Mora, Hircine, Malacath, Mephala, Meridiam Molag Bal, Namira, Peryite,
Sanguine, Sheogorath, Vaerina and Mehrunes Dagon. I am a Nightingale of
Nocturnal. I am the Thane of every hold in Skyrim. I’m a ex Vampire Lord and
Werewolf……. And you want to rob me?”
Thief~ “Nice try, but you don’t scare me. I’m not going to
All because you didn’t level up your speech skill!!!!