Moar Rings
Lords and ladies, dwarves of the deep, elves of the long twilight, hobbits who should absolutely know better – gather round! You’ve conquered kingdoms. You’ve buried rivals. You’ve stared at that ONE ring in Realms in Exile and thought, quietly, greedily:
"…I could make one of those."
Friend, you’ve come to the right tent.
The lost art of Eregion, remembered badly and attempted anyway! Research the Ring-Lore Innovation, available to all but its first author! Choose your metal! Bind your gem! Whisper a virtue into the band – strength, cunning, coin, charm, piety, or peace of mind – and pray your hand is steady at the Tempering. Forge a masterpiece the old smiths would weep over… or rush the work and learn, personally, why the books say the craft does not forgive haste. Every ring comes out different. Some come out wrong. It works, but something’s off. You’ll wear it anyway. We know you will.
Seven labors. Years of your life. Treasure beyond prudence, and one price the wise do not name at the anvil. Forge a TRUE Ring of Power, grave your own words into the band in letters that catch no light – and discover that the finishing of such things is noticed. Something vast and lidless will lean in at the very last hammer-stroke, and what happens next is between you, your will, and Him. Let Him in. Fight Him. Sing against Him. We are not responsible for what your ring becomes.
A clean True Ring is the most coveted thing in Middle-earth, and the owner of a certain Dark Tower keeps EXCELLENT ledgers. A shape on the road. A death in the household. A demand at your gate, repeated with a patience that is not the kind that runs out – and if you defy it, steel yourself: what comes next comes for the ring by force of arms. You must be able to hold what you have.
Ohh, that depends entirely on what you are, friend. Dwarves: ask not for whom the gold gleams. Elves: the Enemy does not break in, he looks out. Men: the years stop taking… and then they collect, with interest, in a black robe. And hobbits, sweet, sturdy, resistant little hobbits, hold out longest of all, and pay a price we will absolutely not spoil here, except to say you will see it, and the household will scream first.
There are two roads out from under a corrupted ring: the fire, and the river. The odds are not good. And do remember, before you throw anything into deep water: rivers keep nothing forever.
- Give rings away like a generous fool; to your spouse, your heir, your liege, your most dangerous vassal. The gift arrives with something walking behind it.
- Sacrifice an ENTIRE COUNTY to fuel the great work. Yes, entire. Yes, we mean it.
- A childhood destiny rarer than a comet: three swords, three legends, one child marked before their coming of age.
- A woman in a pond distributing swords as a basis for a system of government. We said what we said.
- A hidden fate for the ruler foolish enough, and hungry enough, to solve the ring problem with cutlery.
Requires: LotR: Realms in Exile. Load Moar Rings AFTER it.
Touches nothing of RiE’s own historical Rings – the One stays the One.
Player-focused: the AI does not craft rings. The AI merely… collects.
Step up, light the forge, say the word over the metal. The first ring is an apprenticeship. The last one is a legend. Somewhere between the two, you’ll stop being sure who is wearing whom.
