The Warg and Warg Rider Appreciation Thread

[SamwiseGamgee]

My goodness, my blood runs chilled at this story of treachery and deceit. The Warg Rider is trully the coldest, most saddistical and manipulative creature ever to have lived. His dark gaze and foul smirk turn the hearts of men to poison and their spirits doth ruin.
For years he has scourged all that is good and just in the lands he chooses to victimise, just as he did in your story, Eomer. It is even told in Buckland of how he came and conversed with the hobbits who dwelt there on the edge of the Old Forest, though only the eldest of hobbits remembers it, and, after all, they're queer folks on the other side of the Brandywine.
Who knows if these stories are true? Who knows if the tale Fatty Bolger once told of a great battle between this Warg Rider and Old Man Willow are true? It is unlikely that there are any. Apart, perhaps, from Tom Bombadil. That, however, shall have to wait.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Bombadil's thoughts are hard to decipher in the best of times, but I often lie awake at night wondering what Tom thinks of the Warg Rider, and indeed of Wargs.

And vice versa. It is my opinion that Wargs were often guests in the House of Tom Bombadil. Ah! to be in the company of such fine beings. It is a wish I have.

[SamwiseGamgee]

A song of Tom Bombadil

One day old Tom Bombadil-o
He went a walking-o
And what did he see before his eyes but that Old Man Willow
It was that fiend Old Man Willow!

But he was not on his own- nay
He was wrestling with a foe-ay
And who was that foe but old Tom's friend that he knew from elder day
Yes he'd saved in elder day!

Old Tom he ran to save him
Twas close and not much in
But Tom he spoke and the boughs they broke and so was Tom's friend freed
Oh, the Old Man spat him out!

Twas the great Warg Rider-ee
His face was warm and cheery
And he smirked and smiled and thanked dear Tom for saving he and wargy
Old Tom had saved his skin!

Now some they say he's evil
And others remark he's cold
But old Tom knows and old Tom sees and he knows he's really harmless
Oh, he's really just a lamb!

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Nice rhymes Samwise! I note that you mention one 'Wargy'. Pray tell, is this the same Wargy that I am thinking of, namely the comedy Warg? What an oddball this fellow is, let me tell you!

More news on the growing reputation of the thread. I was watching WWE Raw last week, and couldn't help but notice a sign in the crowd that read "I love Wargs" and just underneath it said "barrowdowns.com"

Unfortunately, before too long security had removed the sign, probably because you're not allowed to advertise websites. For the rest of the show, if you ever looked for the Warg sign, all you could see was the infinitely irritating sign which was being held up a couple of rows behind the Warg lover, which read "Christian sucks!"

As we all know, the claim portrayed within this sign is completely innacurate. Christian is in fact a very talented wrestler and a hero to millions of aspiring youths throughout the world.

[SamwiseGamgee]

Ah, I thought that may cause confusion. But in answer to your question, no. In Tom's song the mention is 'wargy'- no capital letter and merely for the purposes of rhyming.
'Wargy', however, is an entirely different story which i feel I must be illucinated with regard to. Please, Eomer, do so!

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Gladly Samwise! Well, what can I say about Wargy eh? If ever there was a perfect example of a warg with a split personality then its Wargy.

In public he is a loveable rogue, a fun-loving scamp who entertains children and delights parents with his vast array of comedic talents. He is a magician, a teller of jokes and a zany best friend to anyone who needs him all at once.

But there is a much darker, twisted side of Wargy that few people know about. The beast within Wargy lusts for horrific pleasures, including rape and murder. He is so skillful that he never gets caught, but he has left a trail of innocent victims in his wake. In short, he is one sick wretch.

A truly bizarre character.

[SamwiseGamgee]

Oh my goodness! It's wargs like this sick son of a monster that give the whole noble race of wargs a bad name! This kind of brutal two-faced nature leads to the tar-brushing of wargs as a race. If I ever get to meet this 'Wargy' I'll give him a piece of my mind...before being brutally ravished and left for dead, I imagine.
For long years have wargs struggled with the quick judgement of men and the devilry of one or two individuals in their race. Take, for example, Boris. Boris was a Transylvanian warg of the short haired variety who lived for years in an old castle overlooking the village of Schmertkin. He held that little village his own, and the villagers loved him. He was kind, loving, and cared for the children. Little did the inhabitants on Schmertkin realise that by night Boris would sneak into the village and steal a baby, to use for his own filthy purposes. The child would then mysteriously reappear at a later date in its own bed, apparently none the worse.
Boris worked his foul web of deceit for years, until one day he made a mistake- he chose a victim who was old enough to be aware of what was happening. When that child got home he told his parents of the abhorrent acts of Boris, though they would not suffer their son's tales, and he was exiled to the barren lands surrounding Schmertkin.
It was there that the boy met another warg- Albus. Albus was the older brother of Boris and knew that the child spake the truth. He knew that the villagers must be shown the truth and so he tricked them into following him- disguised as Boris- into the castle. Albus then disappeared, allowing the young lad to lead the villagers to the dungeon where there were no less than three babies, chained and bound to the wall. When Boris burst in the villagers were in a blind rage, realising the story of the boy to be the truth, and they did attack Boris with pitchforks and scythes so that the fell beast was overcome and there, in his own dungeon of disrepute, he drew his last breath. At that Albus entered, coming to congratulate the villagers and thank them for destroying this open sore upon the fair visage of Schmertkin. The villagers, however, had already made their minds up about wargs, and so they did pounce upon Albus with great fury and vengeance, ripping out his eyes and setting his head upon a stick.
The young lad saw this and was filled with sorrow, asking of the villagers: 'Do you not realise this was your saviour, and my friend?' The mob was incited, and as they turned on the lad they did say: 'Don't you hear him? He's in cahoots with these creatures of oblivion. We shall send him to the abyss with his fell companions!' And so the crowd attacked the boy, setting a slipknot around his neck and hanging him from the highest point of the castle.
Shortly after this the black death gripped all of Transylvania in its icy fist. In that fell winter of 1864 every last son and daughter of Schmertkin died, and the village is now nought but a memory, and the castle has gone to ruin. A lesson, surely, to those who would quickly judge an entire race upon the acts of one mad creature.