The Warg and Warg Rider Appreciation Thread

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

I know what drives many of you on the Downs. You yourself may not know the answer yet but you are about to find out. This site has not yet catered for the needs of those people fascinated by Wargs and Warg Riders. I can hear the collective gasp of you all right now as you mutter "My God, he's right! I feel the need to speak of Wargs! Right now! BUT HOW?"

Well fear no more loyal subjects! Eomer has taken it upon himself to create the most significant Warg-related thread in Downs history. Never again will you suffer such questions as "Who is more ferocious than the Warg Rider?" in silence again. (By the way, only Aragorn and Gandalf the White are imbued with more ferocity than our saviour, the Warg Rider.)

Any discussion is allowed (in keeping with the regulations of our glorious Moderators of course) that attends to the subject of Wargs and Warg Riders. Especially discussion which points out innacuracies in the film version of The Lord Of The Rings as well as the selective portrayal of Wargs in classic Tolkien art.

Thank you.

[Amariden Ravenhill]

THREE CHEERS FOR EOMER OF THE ROHIRRIM!!!!

[Firefoot]

"Who is more ferocious than the Warg Rider?"

You mean those lemming-hyena things in the movie they call Wargs? In that case, the bunny in my backyard is more ferocious.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Ah, but you see, the Wargs in the movie were terrible. Where was the charm? Where was the wit elocution?

A shame.

[SamwiseGamgee]

Tis like a dream come true. Finally, an opportunity to share with like-minded individuals the joys of knowing a warg.
For so long I have wished to meet a man like you Eomer, and now my dreams have come true! Hallelujah! Where can I start with the warg rider. Such ferocity! On a scale of 1 to 100 I'd rate it at approximately 61- which is pretty darned high, let me tell you. And please, do let me tell you!
I ask you, Eomer, have you heard of the famous Colombian Male Voice Warg Choir? They were featured on the concept album by Shakira, known as 'Dirty Warg'. I enjoy them so. Such range and talent.
And how could I forget the time that I saw a warg and a yeti fight to the death! That was in the mountains of Bhutan, where I spent many long nights in search of the famous black mountain warg. What times they were.
And no man. NAY! NO MAN, has lived until he has seen the centuries old dance of the wargs of Bosnia. Based loosely on peasant traditions, intermingled with the customs of the wargs of that area. The Washington Post's Scott Cumming described it as 'the most stirring thing I have ever seen', while Neil Forbes of The Guardian likened it to 'watching God Himself dance among us.' I myself wrote in the Press and Journal that 'No mortal should end his life without having stood in awe of this spectacle.' The Evening Expresses Greame Walter, however, wrote 'It's nae very good, is it?' I can only tell you to ignore this review and go to Bosnia and witness the spectacle yourself.
Anyway, I have rambled on, but as you can surely see- I love wargs!

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

I knew that if I could find just one other like-minded individual then it would have been worth it to start this thread. I hail thee SamwiseGamgee!

I have heard the Male Warg Voice Choir of Colombia, though not featured on any popular recordings. I was actually in Nigeria at the time and the Choir were travelling through Africa. It was a glorious destiny which brought us together, I am sure of it. Anywho, the Wargs were simply breathtaking in their delivery of traditional Colombian music. It brings tears to my eyes as I type this remembering the wonderful spectacle and the emotion felt among all who heard.

I have not heard of this Bosnian Warg dance but I will keep my eyes open. It sounds excellent.

As for The Lord of the Rings movies portrayal of Wargs, I was disappointed. They came across as very one-dimensional. I suppose Peter Jackson chose to ignore such tales as that of the Wargs of Rohan coming to the aid of the Elves in the Battle of Mirkwood. I will tell the full tale next time.

Until then, please delight me, Children of the Downs, with your own tales of Wargs. Thanks.

[SamwiseGamgee]

I now return, glad to recount tales of wargs and their exploits. I feel now is as good a time as any to tell the story of my time in Bhutan, and the famous sight I saw of Yeti and Warg, locked in mortal combat.
I was first sent to Bhutan as part of a BBC research team. We had been sent in order to seek out evidence of two of the greatest legends of all time: the yeti and the black mountain warg. I had spent 25 nights in Bhutan without ever having seen anything other than squirrels and bears. We had split our group up and I had camped out on a plateau known to the locals as 'Shuekwasho', that is 'the place of the warg'. It was on the 26th night that my luck perked up.
At about 2am I made my first sighting of a yeti. It was a huge creature. Nearly 9 ft tall and covered in short, coarse, black hair. It had features like a man, yet different in some slight, indistinguishable way. He came quite near my tent and was making intimidating noises. This continued for another half hour, and as it did so I became more and more tense.
It is a well known fact among the native mountain trackers of Bhutan that Yetis do not take fondly to humans. Legend would have them believe that any mortal who is not worthy to look upon the Yeti but does so will surely die. Just as the Yeti seemed to be preparing for its assault on my tent he was attacked by a warg. The warg was huge. At least 11 ft long, about 7ft tall and perhaps 6ft broad at the shoulders. His great black fur shone in the full moon of the mountains and his silvery mane flowed majestically down his spine! He plunged upon the Yeti like a great noble knight! The Yeti fought him off and in moments these two mythical warriors were embroiled in a battle, nay war, of titanic proportions. For the next hour the two fought each other viciously and without rest. There was blood aplenty and at one point the Yeti even lost his right eye- a specimen which I still have- in a particularly gruesome gouge.
The battle, however, could not continue forever. The warg was gaining the upper hand and the Yeti was in serious trouble. He soon realised that against a great black mountain warg there can be no victory, and so skulked off into the dawn mists to die alone.
The warg stood there, steam rising from his exhausted body, somewhere between a shadow and reality. A great, black silhouette against the breathtaking scenery of the Bhutanese Alps at dawn. There he stood, King of Beasts, Lord of Battle and Noble Protector. For there he stayed, laying down after a short while, until the voices of my trackers could be heard and he knew I would be safe from the murderous Yeti.
And so he passed into the forests and forever from my sight. I have told many my story, though few believe. I admit, even I may have formerly been a sceptic. However, when one has seen the great black mountain warg one knows that he is no mere mortal warg, he is as the Bhutanese locals say a 'Diuesal'- a protector from the gods.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

I am in awe of your tale Samwise. I really cannot say anything else except that I am so happy that you have experienced such a thing.

I am still compiling the full tale of the Battle of Mirkwood so I will post it next time. Until then, a word of advice Samwise. Your signature is very cool, but it is over large and you may irk the moderators by keeping it. Perhaps make it smaller?

[SamwiseGamgee]

Ah, tis true. I had not realised just how large font size 7 would be! As large as a small pony, it emerged!
I await with bated breath the epic tale of the Battle of Mirkwood and hope that it will live up to my expectations, though I am almost positive it will. It's a battle with wargs in, what more could I want?

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

The Battle Of Mirkwood, as told by an anonymous Elf several years after the event.


It took place in the south-west of Mirkwood in a place considered an Elven stronghold. The army stationed there was huge. However, they had met their match. The Orc captain Gorgomoth had become crazed in his attempts to destroy the Elves of Mirkwood, and had ploughed all of his strength into the assault. Middle-earth braced itself for a climactic battle that would surely alter the course of history.

It did. Hundreds of thousands of Elves were massacred by the Orcs, who lost a vast proportion of their force themselves. However, the outcome was in no real doubt. The Orcs were too many and the Elves would surely fall.

It was when all hope was gone when the Elves heard the ominous sound of howling on the wind. Wargs - thousands and thousands of Wargs. The Elves braced themselves for the end of their lives.

But no! The Wargs turned on the Orcs, their former allies. With vigour they ripped and tore into the terrified Orcs. Oh the humanity! The blood of the Orcs rained down on the beautiful trees of Mirkwood. When the slaughter was complete the Wargs left with no explanation of their deeds. None was needed. The Elves of Mirkwood were saved all because of the Good Wargs who had come out of Rohan.

Without a doubt, this battle is what changed the common conception of the Warg forever. No more were they considered all evil. From now on the Peoples of Middle-earth never knew what to expect from Wargs. On the one side there were still evil Wargs who served the Orc captains. However, on the other side was a tremendous host of good Wargs, bent on doing great and glorious deeds and properly utilizing the extraordinary and wondrous talents given to them by a truly perfect God.

[SamwiseGamgee]

It is trully delightful to share such epic stories of wargs and their varied natures with one who so clearly shares my views and opinions.
Wargs are a strange enigma. Neither wholly good nor wholly evil. They are perhaps the exception to many rules. Few know why wargs obey anyone, with their razor sharp wit and brain powers. One suggestion is that it is not a true warg who serves the orcs. I disagree. even the mightiest of beings (and wargs are counted among them) can be warped by evil. Take Saruman, for example.
So, a warg is perhaps rather like Tom Bombadil-neither clearly good or clearly evil.
Who knows? It could just as easily been a warg who had aided the hobbits in their quest, perhaps a far off descendant of the wargs of Rohan? Perhaps Tom Bombadil was even a warg? It is a puzzling perplexion which I feel could be a fine debate. Before that, though, I'd like to hear more of the origins of the wargs of Rohan. How did they come to be there? Whom did they serve? Were they gifts from Eru or emissaries of the Valar?

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Was Tom Bombadil a Warg? Sounds like a fantastic debate and one which I am looking forward to.

Concerning the Wargs of Rohan. They moved into Rohan during a harsh period for the Men of Rohan. Their numbers were dwindling and they were constantly threatened by nearby Orcs. No-one knew where the Wargs came from. All they knew was that they acted friendly towards the Men and protected them from many evils. The Elves of Mirkwood did not know about this relationship because communication between Mirkwood and Rohan was tricky in those days.

I do wonder if Wargs can be considered Bombadil-esque. If we consider it, we can see that the origins of Men and Elves and Dwarves and Ents are given explanation. Even Hobbits are explained better than Wargs are, being linked closely to Men. To not explain the origins of Wargs (especially considering how potent their powers are) was a strange ommision by the Good Professor.

Without putting much thought into, my initial guess would be that Wargs are simply servants (?) of the Valar. Feel free to challenge this claim.

[SamwiseGamgee]

Have you, pray tell, Eomer, ever heard the story of the wargs of the Brown Lands, who pursued a brutal quest of honour against the elven folks. If not let me know and I shall share the story. It is one of treachery and deceit which reduces one's faith in the warg while similarly increasing one's respect. It's a paradoxical tale which I look forward to sharing.
Here's a good one: if wargs are servants of the Valar then perhaps they are Maiai, and couldn't that theoretically make a warg as powerful as Sauron? An interesting thought.

[Amariden Ravenhill]

Hail and well met, Eomer of the Rohirrim and Samwise Gamgee! I have been reading at length the stories aforementioned. I have not had the excitement of having such journies nor do I know many of the Elven folk (save one) for my friends and neighbors would think it unseemly for any Hobbit to do so....alas!

[SamwiseGamgee]

Welcome, Ravenhill, to the inner sanctum of we warg-lovers (non-carnal).
Surely you have heard stories of wargs in your long travels. They need not have anything to do with elven folks, that is purely incidental. The most important thing is that they are about wargs. Surely you can think back. Go on, Ravenhill!
The story of the wargs of the Brown Lands is coming just as soon as I am assured there's an appetite for it, by the by.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

It is indeed delightful to hear of another Downer who is enthralled by Wargs, hail Amariden Ravenhill!

Samwise, please share this tale of the Wargs of the Brown Lands. If you do not post it soon then I may explode with anticipation.

On another point, I think that if Wargs were Maia then their powers had to have been concealed, much like the Istari. There is certainly no tale of a Warg ever challenging Sauron for mastery of Middle-earth that I have heard of. Speaking of the Istari, has anyone ever considered the possibility that Allatar and Pallando were Wargs? I have. Several times.

Maybe Sauron himself was an evil Warg. Though perhaps thats a bit far fetched.

[SamwiseGamgee]

For many years the elves of the Brown Lands had been defended by the valiant elves of Rivendell. Few knew why, but stories and legends suggest thet the Rhun Hills possessed some kind of great magical power, dark and evil.
The attackers of this noble cause were a motley crew of orcs, dark knights, mumakil, mountain trolls and evil ents. This band of evil warriors was led by one whose name you may have already heard: Gorgomoth. He was a great general of Mordor, cruel and unusual in his methods. However, even the great tactical mind of Gorgomoth was ineffectual against the stalwart nobility of Elrond's elves.
It was stalemate.
One evening, though, while his troops were beating another helpless captive and he feasted upon the flesh of another it came to him. There was one weapon he could use. A great power which few dare to even think about. With great haste Gorgomoth sent out the word: 'Call for Kharak the Cruel.' Even the orcs were afraid.
Within days the call was answered, and into the orc encampment stalked Kharak the Cruel. He was a massive creature, dwarfing all around him and sending their blood into the lower echelons of the temperature range. His fur was grey and his mane sparkled silver in the moonlight. His left eye was a scar, closed forever by Beorn the Cursed, as Kharak had named the defender of the Carrock. His single eye was glowing black. A vast abyss of pain and suffering which Gorgomoth felt must be like looking into the Great Red Eye. What was this creature- Kharak the Cruel? A warg. But no mere warg, he was Kharak the Cruel, King of the Wargs of Moria, and he was as death.
Gorgomoth presented his case to Kharak, and the great King was intrigued. Many years before the elves of Imraldis had killed his son and heir to the throne while he hunted. Kharak had never slept since, pouring all his malice and pain and loss into making the elves pay for their treachery. Long ago Kharak's forefathers had saved the elves from an orcish attack in Mirkwood, and this is how the honourless pointy ears repayed the wargs!
Kharak let out a howl, cold and terrifying. It was as the heinous wailing of a child watching his mother being beaten by a robber. To the orcs it was fearful and stirred in many of them the memory of that fateful night many years ago in Mirkwood, and for Gorgomoth it made him wonder if he had made the right decision.
Over the valley, though, the elvenfolk heard the cry and remembered! They were glad! At last, the heirs of Mhuruk the Magnificent, the famous King of Wargs who had saved the elves in Mirkwood, had returned to save the elves. There was joy and rejoicing as a great host of wargs appeared on the crest of a hill and ran toward the elves.
As the host of wargs came closer, though, many elves realised this was no friendly committee- this was the warhost of Kharak!
The wargs plunged into the elves and tore them to shreds as warm knives through butter. There was pain and suffering and upon that night many an elf lost his life, the brutal justice of the warg judge, jury and executioner known as Kharak being felt in its full wrath! Some elves escaped and fled north. Kharak and his host tarried for a while, making sure that every elf had been killed and made to pay.
Kharak then called to him his most trusted brothers and they numbered one and twenty. This kingshost then plunged north in pursuit of the elves who had escaped. The trail of death and punishment stretched through South Rhun, North Rhun, the Withered Heath and finally it came to an end on the slopes of Erebor, deep in Esgaroth. With the kingshost behind them the remaining elves realised that they had been caught in a great trap, and there on the borders of North Mirkwood stood the remainder of the warg warhost. The elves were caught and the revenge of Kharak was swift and decisive. His vengeance was furious and filled even his fellow warg with a great pain and fear. Kharak last feasted on the flesh of the elven general and went home to his halls in Moria through Mirkwood, though it was an elven stronghold, in safety, for even the great elvenfolk of Mirkwood were afraid to incur the wrath of a warg.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Why on Earth did the Elves kill Kharak's son?

[SamwiseGamgee]

It is generally understood that Ghrutu, son of Kharak and heir to Moria was killed for ransacking and generally creating bother on the elven borders, and so the elves must be just.
However, the truth is that a young, inexperienced elven archer panicked when he saw Ghrutu, falsely believing him to be a foe.
It was the latter that Kharak knew and hence his furious vengeance.
Does that answer your query, Eomer?

[galadriel'smaiden]

I, galadriel'smaiden, have a warg. A rabid, evil, ferocious, bloodthirsty one and a half foot high warg. It prowls my home, searching for cats and mice to terrorize. It has turned the backyard into a crater filled wasteland to be likened to Mordor itself. It leaves *gifts* for me, only to discover the *gifts* are highly toxic; I suffer greatly. But when the warg is asleep, I remember why the heck I bought it in the first place....

[SamwiseGamgee]

Wargs have indeed been known to dabble in the black arts, and it is quite possible that this warg you have is doing such a thing and leaving these 'presents'- possibly eye of toad and foot of newt- for you in some kind of Morgul taunt.
It sounds to me as though your warg is a dwarf dutch warg. They're famous for turning to other methods for proving themselves rather than the supreme power and physical prowess of larger breeds of warg.
However, there is one thing you must remember: you are not trully the master of this warg. the warg obeys no mere mortal, it merely submits itself as it chooses. 'Be wise in your treatment of the warg, for he forgets not lightly,' as Elrond once said.
Eomer, where are you, man? We need the original godfather of warg back for some great warg related stories!

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Fear not Samwise and other Children of the Downs, I cannot forget this thread. It has become a demanding child to me, always begging for attention, interrupting my sleep, et cetera.

Your tale, Samwise, of the Wargs of the Brown Lands was gripping. For now, I am compiling another tale. Until then, I only insist that you take care if you are in contact with a Warg. I have few personal experiences with Wargs but one of them in particular is terrifying. I saw a Warg snatch a screaming child from a bus queue, snap it in half, and greedily suck down its fluids. It looked up at the onlookers, including myself, child-juices dribbling from its mandibles, and let loose a blood-curdling scream which rose into a piercing crescendo, as if daring us to protest. No-one did.

Beware Wargs. You cannot fully understand them.

[Kransha]

Ah, the noble warg and his master, the unsung heroes of unsungedness. What a marvellous concept has taken shape. I shall add my humble contribution, the lovingly paraphrased ballad. It is the sad story of the death of the regal Rawrrar, known to most as the Warg of Wantley, a vicious, gargantuan creature who wrough beautiful havoc on the small towns of the Westfold, and how he was smitten by the cunning Folc of Meduseld. So, without further ado.

The Warg of Wantley

Old stories tell how Gamgee, Sam
A spider slew at Ungol,
With six great legs and fourteen eyes,
To see and never bungle:
But he had Sting, this spider nothing,
Or he ne'er had done it, I warrant ye:
But Folc of Med-hall, with nothing at all,
He slew the Warg of Wantley.

This warg, he had two furious arms,
Each mounted 'neath each shoulder;
With a whip on his tail as long as a flail
Which made him bolder and bolder.
He had long claw's, and in his jaws
Four and forty teeth of iron;
With fur as tough as any buff,
Which did him round environ.

Have you not heard how the Trojan horse
Held seventy men in his belly?
This warg was just not quite so big,
But very near, I'll tell ye;
Devoured he poor children three,
That could not with him grapple;
And at one sup he ate them up,
As one would eat an apple.

All sorts of cattle this warg would eat,
Some say he ate up trees,
And that the forests sure he would
Devour up by degrees:
For houses and churches were to him geese and turkeys;
He ate all and left none behind,
But some stones, dear Jack, that he could not crack,
Which on the hills you will find.

Hard by a furious knight there dwelt;
Men, women, girls, and boys,
Sighing and sobbing, came to his lodging,
And made a hideous noise.
"Oh, save us all, Folc of Med-hall,
Thou peerless knight of these woods;
Do but slay this wolf, who our homes will engulf,
We'll give thee all our goods."

This being done, he did engage
To hew the warg beast down;
But first he went new armor to
Bespeak at Upbourn town;
With spikes all about, not within but without,
Of steel so sharp and strong,
Both behind and before, arms, legs, and all o'er,
Some five or six inches long.

Had you but seen him in this dress,
How fierce he looked, and how big,
You would have thought him for to be
Some Egyptian porcupig:
He frighted all, cats, dogs, and all,
Each cow, each horse, and each hog:
For fear they did flee, for they took him to be
Some strange, outlandish hedge-hog.

To see this fight all people then
Got up on trees and houses,
On churches some, and chimneys too;
But these put on their trousers,
Not to spoil their hose. As soon as he rose,
To make him strong and mighty,
He drank, by the tale, six pots of ale
And a quart of aqua-vitae.

It is not strength that always wins,
For wit doth strength excel;
Which made our cunning champion
Creep down into a well,
Where he did think this wolfhound would drink,
And so he did in truth;
And as he stooped low, he rose up and cried, "Oh!"
And kicked him in the mouth.

"Oh," quoth the warg with a deep sigh,
And turned six times together.
Sobbing and tearing, cursing and swearing
Out of his throat of leather:
"Folc of Med-hall, O thou rascal,
Would I had seen thee never;
With the thing at thy foot thou hast pricked my throat,
And I'm quite undone forever. "

"Murder, murder," the warg did cry,
"Alack, alack, for grief;
Had you but missed that place, you could
Have done me no mischief."
Then his head he shaked, trembled and quaked,
And down he laid and cried;
First on one knee, then on back tumbled he;
So groaned, and kicked, and died.

[SamwiseGamgee]

Bravo, Kransha!
This tale of brutal warg murder, whilst thoroughly dispicable for its subject matter, is trully a delight to read. Your prose has raised the bar here at the Warg Appreciation Society's thread. I shall have to make sure that my next tale of warg mystery and intrigue is particularly superb. (Of course it shall be, due solely to the fact that it is about wargs!)
Today I depart for a two night trip to Dublin, Eire, with one of the fairest maiden's that ere man hath seen. I must beseech the gods that they shall send a warg to guide our path and make our footsteps swift. I look forward to coming back and readind hundreds, perhaps thousands, of new warg-related posts!

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Kransha, that poem was truly magnificent! You have surely embiggened this thread with your wonderful tale and I applaud and salute you for it.

In my next post I will tell a tale which shows the flip-side of Wargs. These treacherous rogues are not exactly a good advert for the sublime majesty of Wargdom. Nay, these Wargs typify why most of Middle-earth was so distrustful of Wargs. As Tolkien would surely agree, one of the greatest crimes is the misuse of power. When the power in question is that of the Wargs, devastation shall occur.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

The tale of the forgotten Men of the Grey Mountains.


The Withered Heath is a wretched, horrific, ghastly place on Middle-earth, yet it was once green and fresh, and merry Men were aplenty in the lush valleys (valleys considered even more lush than those in Chile on our world, which is really saying something. Have you ever visited Chile?). These Men lived in the Grey Mountains for parts of the year, and in the valleys in other times, especially summertime.

These people were protected by Wargs who lived nearby, though no-one ever found out where. The people had a huge respect for the Wargs, though there was never much contact between the two groups.

On the day of the terror, all the Men were in the valleys. It was summer, and a particularly fine summer too. They must have seen a great host of Wargs approaching them.

Here is where the story becomes difficult, as there were absolutely no survivors of the people. It was a massacre. Thousands upon thousands of corpses were discovered by other Men a couple of days later. There were also a few Warg bodies laying on the ground, shot with arrows. Only five; the Men were hopeless at defending themselves because they had relied on the Wargs for so long. The Wargs then torched the valleys, completely ruining the area, and so it became known as the Withered Heath.

The Wargs were identified as being alien to the Men, by travellers who had not been present for the massacre. They returned to their homes, and through their grief were able to pinpoint the differences between the Wargs. The dead Wargs were slightly smaller and had thoroughly different eyes to the Wargs who were recognised as protectors.

The Good Wargs were never seen again by Men. The Evil Wargs certainly did not remain in the same area. A couple more Warg corpses were discovered in open ground, probably around 50 leagues from the formerly lush valleys. These were identified as being protector Wargs. They had been murdered clinically.

No-one really knows what happened in those days. Most suppose that the Evil Wargs destroyed the Good Wargs before destroying the Men of the Grey Mountains. There are more outlandish stories as well. The problem stems from the fact that there were no human survivors.

[Maeggaladiel]

Hello, fellow Wargians!

Hast thou heard of the new Guide Wargs for the Blind program? Yes, warg breeders are sending warg puppies to Guide Warg school to help aid those with visual impairments.

Unlike Guide Dogs for the Blind, which use useless cuddly dogs like labradors, Guide Wargs not only guide but protect the visually impaired person from attackers!

Hope the program works!

***Guide Wargs for the Blind does not accept responsibility for death or dismemberment brought about by Guide Wargs.***

Wargies!
MAEG~

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

I can only imagine Great Wargs strolling down a busy street! Some Wargs have extremely short tempers, so I suppose that some people may die as a result of that scheme. But if I ever need looking after then a Warg would come top of my list.

So far the thread has been solely about Wargs but I'd like to talk about the Warg Rider. Rest assured, the Warg Rider is not a normal Orc as depicted in the movies. Oh no. The Warg Rider is a different being altogether. He is no mere Goblin. He is an intrinsically evil tamer of Wargs. He corrupts them to his will. He is very powerful indeed.

Just consider the list of foes who have tried AND FAILED to defeat him. Elrond, Theoden, Eomer, Faramir, Saruman, Galadriel, a host of Dunlending Wildmen and the ENTIRE RACE OF DWARVES! The only two foes he has ran from are Aragorn and Gandalf the White, for he knows that their ferocity is too much for him to handle.

The Warg Rider is cunning and feasts (not literally) on the weakness of some Wargs. He is a deadly enemy. Elrond once prophecised that the Great Wargs would one day seek for the Warg Rider and vanquish him for all that he has done to the good name of the Warg. Galadriel was not too sure whether Elrond was right or not.

[SamwiseGamgee]

Phew, back!
Well, the Warg Rider. I had been wondering how long it would be before we succumbed to the temptation of mentioning that creature. What an evil being he is. Few can comprehend just what he embodies in that evil green body of his. He is a walking (riding?) embodiement of fear and invokes terror in all who look on his face. Horrid.
I'm compiling at the moment some rustic legends and 'myths' as to the origins and roles of wargs, which I think would be interesting and perhaps even amusing for us to read. What, for example, was the Numenorean stance on wargs? All shall be answered.
PS Eomer, great signature!
This, Mrs Fawlty. This Mr Fawlty. This, slap on the head!

[Amariden Ravenhill]

Greetings, my friends! We meet again! I have been wandering for some time in the Old Forest and I tell you truly that I may have seen a Warg! I will describe what I saw in breif. The creature was of a lithe stature, and moved in rolling gait. The night was dark and I could only distinguish the crerature's peircing eyes. I stood in awe, transfixed, as it gave a howl that would turn the hearts ofeven the bravest of warriors to ice. Then, with a rustle of the wind; it was gone. Perhaps it was only my mind, or perhaps I truly did see a Warg.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

I believe that, once you see a Warg, you fully realise what you are seeing. I don't think people can be tricked into thinking they have seen a Warg. Much like anyone who saw Gandalf could tell that he was a being of great power.

I remember when I first saw a Warg. T'was a warm evening and I was strolling through the moors some miles from my home. There was a figure standing atop a hill , probably a half mile from where I was standing, yet I could instantly tell that it was a Warg. It was as if an angel had come to my side and said "Yes, my son. You have indeed set eyes upon the most noble of God's creatures."

To use simile, it is like a veil is lifted from before your eyes, and you see the truth. If you did not feel this way Amariden, then it probably wasn't a Warg. If you did, then congratulations!

[SamwiseGamgee]

Well all this talk of seeing wargs leads me nicely into the legend surrounding wargs according to the Dunlending Wildmen. Why? Well, the Dunlendings had a great respect and fear for wargs. They had no rightful name for them, they knew them only by the same name as they referred to gifts. This is because the Dunlendings believed that wargs were gifts, sent from their angels to guide and guard the Dunlendings.
One of the most famous Dunlending legends tells of Musht, a Dunlending who once met with a Warg on the highest summit of Middle Earth and was there imbued with super-human strength for having passed all the tests of that particular warg. It was after this that the Dunlendings told of how if any man looked upon a warg without a worthy soul then surely death would become him. I certainly hope your soul is worthy Ravenhill!

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Interesting Samwise. I would like to hear the other legends regarding Wargs from the People's of Middle-earth, that is, of course, if you know any others?

[SamwiseGamgee]

Well, of course, Eomer. I know many more. Perhaps you would like to hear what the people of Rohan thought of the wargs? I shall tell thee, though I am sure you already know, Rider of the Mark.
As you can imagine the Rohirrim were not great fans of wargs. When they clashed with enemy cavalry it was usually warg mounted orcs, and hence the bitter rivalry.
The legend of the Mark goes that wargs were once normal wolves who roamed the plains, quite happy and contented in their packs to live a life of peace. However, Morgoth in his evil plan took many of these wolves captive and much like the elves who would become orcs by his Morgul ways so would the wolves warp and transform into wargs, sent to forever blight humanity.
Of one warg in particular many stories are told in the eoreds, he who was named Ghrag the Awful. For many long years he reigned in terror on the eastern borders of Rohan, causing great fear and terror wherever he roamed. It was on hearing of this great plight that Eorl rode forth from Edoras on Felarof, his great steed, to meet this sore on his fair kingdom. When the two met the locals said that the sky darkened and a great chill covered all the land. For hours the two great foes battled, locked in a duel of fates. In the end it was Eorl who drove his sword through the throat of Ghrag and did spill his blood. It is said that upon the ground where the blood of Ghrag was spilled no thing has ever lived, and that any who step there will be taken by a deadly fever.
PS- Eomer, how do you spell eloqution?

[Kransha]

As a follow up to "The Warg of Wantley," I dug up this old work or rustic Germanic folklore. Its a primitive, one-rhyme-scheme verse about the daughter of the last warg king and how a band of motley elk hunters from Hamburg slew her most ignobly (told from the point of view of one Eglebert Saxonhead, one of the hunters). If only I could locate something good about wargs, rather than all this morbid stuff about killing the noble beasts. What a pity...

Das Letzte Warg - Daughter Der Warg König
(The Last Warg - The Warg King's Daughter)

The last great warg king left a daughter
Who bounded her way here over water.
For sport, so we thought, we bought guns and we sought her.
We hunted and hounded and cornered and caught her.

A lumbering, cumbersome, grumpy old snorter,
She turned out far tougher than we had first thought her.

We gave her no quarter, but faced her and fought her,
Lost count of the means we were forced to resort ta
Yet, to cut a quite cruel account shorter,
We blew her to bits with a shell from a mortar.

Of course, they brought in a sort of reporter,
A devious, merciless story distorter,
Who wrote of a glorious slaughter.

Brings a dreadful tear to your eye, don't it? What a waste, what a waste. This just shows the lower class under-appreciation of the flawless wargs and their kin.

[SamwiseGamgee]

Kransha, once again your research to bring us new tales of warg butchery are, whilst enjoyable, grave and harrowing! How can one be expected to take this kind of abuse of wargdom in all its fair forms lying down! It's horrible!
Perhaps an account of the Numenorean legend of Tar-Aldarion and his famous encounter with a warg will lighten the heart. Tar-Aldarion, or Anardil, was of course a King of Numenor who sailed oft abroad to Middle Earth. There he would seek counsel with Gil-Galad and wander amongst the glades and forests, seeking new life and to learn of the quaint ways of the people there.
It was on one of these days that Tar-Aldarion met his first warg, though he named it Ancalime, after his daughter, for it was the fairest thing ere his eye had seen save his eldest daughter, to whom he would later surrender the sceptre.
It was on a fair summer morn, early so that the haze of dawn was still heavy, when Tar-Aldarion happened upon a clearing in a small forest, occupied by a great warg. Its fur was golden, and the light danced upon its tips in the morning sun. His face was noble, a chisseled visage with two great eyes of deep brown. In those eyes, Tar-Aldarion later swore, a man could have become lost and never again appear. The great creature was the first to speak, and indeed Tar-Aldarion was glad, for he had become speechless and would not have known how to address such an ancient creature of obvious nobility. It spake of how Tar-Aldarion must be careful of his kingdom. It told how while he sailed abroad his wife grew restless and longed for her husband's love. Tar-Aldarion vowed that in those deep, dark eyes he saw his wife, Erendis, on the coast of Numenor, longing for him. The creature urged him not to tarry too long in Middle Earth, ere he lose his grip with his left hand by stretching too far with his right.
Tar-Aldarion asked for the name of the creature, but it would not share. Long the pair tarried and spake of this thing and the next, and Tar-Aldarion did find the counsel as meaningful if not, indeed, more so than that of Gil-Galad.
When the sun was high and the warg's fur did glow golden so that Tar-Aldarion could not bring his eyes to look directly upon it the creature took his leave. For a long time after did Tar-Aldarion tarry at that spot, and to this day it remains a holy place, where few would dare to tred. The elven folk told Tar-Aldarion they had often seen the creature roaming through the woods near their homes, though they thought it a foe. Tar-Aldarion was outraged and beseeched Gil-Galad that he would ensure no harm would befall this Ancalime in his absence. Gil-Galad did not understand, but realised the importance of this and obeyed Tar-Aldarion, so that the penalty of death would hang over any man or elf who harmed this fair beast.
It was after this meeting that the warg became a creature of mythical power and greatness in Numenor, and folly would it be for a sailor to disembark from his ship without a prayer of thanks to Ancalime the Protector. Many songs were written in this golden period of Numenorean history regarding wargs, though they were never referred to as such, and it was not for many generations the warg became anything but a creature to respect and love.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

elocution - art of speaking clearly in public


Another great poem Kransha, and more wonderful legends Samwise. I salute both of you.


I have a story regarding one Vadim, who was a leader of a small group of Wargs who wandered in the Brown Lands some years ago. Now, these Wargs were not Great Wargs. In fact, they were rather small compared to other Wargs, and were not too renowned. These Wargs had wandered for years never roaming into legend or story. They had become quite shy to tell the truth.

Anyway, they were pressurized into cooperating with a very large group of Orcs who had a stronghold in Mirkwood. The Orc leader Gangamel was preparing a War with the Elves of Eregion, and needed all the force he could muster. The Wargs showed weakness (alas! tis true) and were forced into joining Gangamel's army. Gangamel was a particularly maniacal and evil Orc.

And so it came to what would have been Gangamel's first great stroke against Eregion. But oh joy! things did not turn out as Gangamel had planned. The Elves were strong, but the Orcs were vast in number and would probably have gained the upper-hand before long. It was not to be.

Vadim was very uneasy. He did not want to be in this battle. He felt terrible for the Elves who would probably be slaughtered. It was then, just as Gangamel had let loose his cry of War, that Vadim heard a great voice out of the sky, and all the other Wargs heard it too.

"Warg! You have no faith in Gangamel!"

No-one knew who's voice it was (though the Wargs themselves supposed it was the voice of the Creator himself) but at the hearing of it the Wargs leapt into a frenzy and started to unleash all Hell on Gangamel's Orcs! The Elves were delighted and joined in the slaughter. This was the vengeance of the Wargs on the Orcs for all the terrible things which Gangamel had coerced them into doing. Never again would an Orc fully trust a Warg.

Gangamel escaped to cause mischief in the future, but Vadim and his Wargs lived long and happy lives.

[SamwiseGamgee]

What a delightful little tale! It is true that a warg is rarely trusted by an orc, I had never realised that the story of Gangamel and Vadim was the reason for that. It's perhaps like that famous line of a song which goes:

This warg is outta control! Gonna burn this warg! Burn this warg!

Maybe you've heard it. It was a marching song of the Easterlings, part of a larger song about Lisiloth (pr. Li-sci-lo-gh) who was a warg running rampant throughout the lands of the East. He would often ravish sheep and feast upon young goats, that sort of devilry, you know. The Easterlings decided enough was enough and in an act of brutal vengeance they did ignite the pelt of Lisiloth and watch with massachistic delight as the warg burned and howled in pain. Lisiloth dived into a nearby lake, but by then it was too late, and his body was burned beyond saving. Perhaps I shall later include the full song.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

That sounds like a nasty little tale Samwise, though compelling certainly.

It is interesting that we touch on the subject of songs, for songs about Wargs were the norm in Middle-earth (or so I am led to believe). Easterling marching songs would probably have sounded terrifying to a lone Warg, especially if the content concerned Warg murder.

There was once a time when Elrond and his Elves were hunting troublesome Wargs near Imladris. They had surrounded the last remnant of Wargs and before long, the fight was under way. Most Wargs were slaughtered, but around 40 of them managed to escape. For the next few days Elrond and his following hunted the last remaining Wargs and would sing

"Oh! Forty Wargs remain!"

over and over, until they found and destroyed them. A sad story I think, but the origins of a famous chant.

[Maeggaladiel]

Dear Esteemed Eomer of the Rohirrim and Company:

It has come to the attention of the Society of Nearsighted Elves (otherwise referred to in this letter as "Society", and "We"), for which I am founding member and spokesperson, that a number of wild wargs roaming the plains of Rohan are in danger of extinction due to ignorant civilians who believe them to be evil. The Society believes this to be a problem worth consideration. Although normally the Society champions efforts to aid visually impaired fey folk with our Foundation for Nearsighted Elves, we have agreed to start a campaign to raise citizen awareness to protect the elusive and often misunderstood Wild Warg. We intend to collect enough signatures and donations to write a formal letter to King Aragorn of Gondor and the current rulers of your kingdom, Rohan, to create an international Warg Protection Law.

Under this new law, the following proposals would be addressed:
*An area of land to be set aside as a wildlife reserve to allow the wargs to run freely.
*A national quota for the amount of wargs hunted each year.
*Scientific investigation into the natural habits of the warg.
*Warg breeding programs to help raise the failing warg population.

We of the Society would like to ask your esteemed group if you would support us in this crusade to save the wild warg. Have you any concerns that you wish to be adressed?

Save the Wargs
Maeggaladiel,
Public Relations/ President/ Founding Member/ Poster Child,
The Society for Nearsighted Elves