The Lord of the Pings: The Fellowship of the Ping

[Arikraz]

This is a story written by the locally well known Perryn Aethyr and was never completed. If I can get a hold of him, I'm going to ask him if he wants to continue it and if not if I can.

The Lord of the Pings: The Fellowship of the Ping

Written by: Perryn Aethyr
Another note: This is the first cut made and he may decide to pick back up after some time. I will lock this after posting it to maintain freshness (be it like old cheese, or aged wine) So that when he does decide to do a second cut, you can take a look at the two and see the differences

[Arikraz]

Introduction:

In this tale of legend and such, we introduce you to a world that Tolkein would have envisioned, had he lived in this time. We introduce you to Middle Matrix. Why call it that? Because it is.

See, this is the best way to explain what happened in this interaction of people found online. You'll understand as you read. Think of a Matrix that is a MMORPG of Middle Earth.

THE LORD OF THE PINGS
The Fellowship of the Ping

---Begin Chapter: Chapter 1 - Prologue

The web has changed.

I feel it in the routers. I feel it in the code. I smell it in the IP. Much that once was, is lost. For none now remain on line who remember it.

It began with the hacking of the great rings. Three were given to the elves; immortal, wisest, and fairest of all beings. Seven to the dwarf lords; great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of men, who above all else desire power.

For within these rings was the code to give greater Strength and Will stats, to govern each race.

But they were all of them, deceived, for another ring was made. In the land of Mordorzosah, in the files of \\Arzosah\Hell\Hacks, the dark hacker Sauraen scripted in secret a Master Ring, to control all others, and into this ring he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all the web.

One ring to rule them all.

One by one, the free servers of Middle Earth fell to the power of the ring. But there were some, who resisted.

A last alliance of men and elves marched against the armies of Mordorzosah, and on the slopes of Mount Doom, they fought for the freedom of Middle Earth.

Victory was near. But the power of the ring could not be undone. It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that IsiadorK, son of the king, took up his father's sword, and against all odds made a critical hit, severing Sauraen's fingers and removing the ring from his hand. In a catastrophic OnDeath script, Sauraen detonated, flattening both armies.

Sauraen, the enemy of the free peoples of Middle Earth, was defeated. The ring passed to IsiadorK, who had this one chance to destroy evil forever. But the hearts and files of men, are easily corrupted. And the Ring of Power has an AI script of its own.

It betrayed IsiadorK, to his death. And some things that should not have been forgotten, were lost. History became legend, legend became myth, and for two and a half thousand games, the ring passed out of all knowledge. Until, when chance came, it ensnared a new bearer.

"My prrresscioussssss."

The ring came to the creature Laggum, who took it deep into the dungeouns of the Misty Mountains. And there, it consumed him.

"It came to me. My own. My love. My own. My...prrresscioussssss."

The ring brought to Laggum unnatural long life. For five hundred long years, it corrupted his files. And in the gloom of Laggum's server, it waited. Darkness crept back into the servers of the world. Rumor grew of a shadow in the US:East. Whispers of a nameless fear. And the Ring of Power perceived its time had now come.

It abandoned Laggum. But something happened then, the Ring did not intend. It was picked up, by the most unlikely character imaginable.

"What's this?"

A hobbit.

Macbo Baggins of the Shire.

"A ring."

"LOST! My precious is lost!"

For the time will soon come when hobbits will shape the fortunes of all.

---End Chapter

[Arikraz]

Chapter 1

Young Rigdo Baggins sat against a tree reading with great interest while waiting for an old friend to arrive. Just as he was about to open the centerfold, he heard singing in a familiar voice coming towards him.

"All my friends know the low rider
The low rider is a little higher
da da da da da da da...da da da da daa
da da da da da da da...da da da da daa
da da da da da...da da da da da...da daaaaaa
Low rider drives a little slower
Low rider is a real goer
da da da da da da da...da da da da daa
da da da da da da da...da da da da daa
da da da da da...da da da da da...da daaaaaa
Low rider knows every street yeah!
Low rider is the one to meet yeah!
da da da da da da da...da da da da daa
da da da da da da da...da da da da daa
da da da da da...da da da da da...da daaaaaa
Low rider don't use no gas now
Low rider don't drive too fast."

Rigdo jumped up and ran to the road where Tarkalf was riding up in a cart pulled by an aging llama.

"You're late," Rigdo scolded.

"A low rider is never late. Nor is he early. He arrives precisly when...."

"You mean wizard, right?"

"Of course. That's what I said, isn't it?"

Rather than argue the point, Rigdo jumps down and hugs the old smart ass. "It's so good to see you again, Tarkalf!"

"Did you really think I'd miss your uncle Macbo's party?" the wizard replied with a sly grin. "I hope he had plenty of food prepared. I always seem to get the munchies when I hang out with him."

Rigdo sat down next to Tarkalf in the wagon as the continued down the road. "Half the Shire's been invited. The other half are free loaders, so are sure to show up, too."

"And how is the old disrepute?" Tarkalf asked.

"He's fine. Spends most of his time locked away, looking at maps, packing bags, fodeling his ring, mumbling incoherently. Doing pretty good for a hobbit of his age."

"Well, I'm sure it will be a grand party. Everyone love's your uncle Macbo."

"Yes, no thanks to you. Before you came around, we Bagginses...es were very well respected. Never did anything distasteful."

"If you're refering to the incident with the fishnets, nipple rings, and licorice, I was barely involved. All I did was, ah, set up the whole thing."

"Well, you've been officially labeled a deeply disturbed old man."

"Oh, really?" Tarkalf mumbled. As he looked around the Shire, various hobbits just looked on, shaking their heads. One gave him the finger. "Hmm."

As they pulled up towards the field where the party was to be held, Rigdo clapped a small hand onto Tarkalf's shoulder. "I'm glad you're back, Tarkalf," he said, then jumped off the wagon to help set up.

"So am I." He made his way along the winding roads to a familiar round door set in the side of a hill. Using his staff, he knocked three times.

"No thank you!" came the angry reply from within. "We don't want any more well wishers, party offers, or distant relations."

"What about a nice Electrolux vacuum cleaner?"

"No!"

"Life insurance?"

"No!!"

"Girl scout cookies?"

"NO!"

"What about just the girl scout?"

There was a pause. "Who is this? Is this another one of those..." he opens the door "...Tarkalf?"

"Macbo Baggins."

[Arikraz]

"Tarkalf!" Macbo cries out in delight. He runs up and embraces his friend, who has to double over to hug him back.

"It's good to see you, old friend," He says. He pauses as he looks the hobbit over. "You haven't aged a day."

"What, you mean the hair? It's dye. I can't let on that I'm aging, or everyone will be crowding around me to get some inherritance off of me." He looks out the door and spots some scruffy hobbits power walking up towards his house. He quickly pulls Tarkalf in and slams the door, locks the knob, the deadbolt, puts up the chain, closes the latches, and lowers a 2x4 into a makeshift door bar. "Not that it stops the greedy buggers from trying." The hobbits outside start banging on the door, yelling for Macbo to open up to talk. He turns a knob on a pipe set in the wall by the door. Screams of rage come from the other side of the door as the distant relations are thoroughly doused with water. "Well then, can I get you something to drink? Tea, coffee, or maybe something with a bit more kick to it? I've got some Red Bull, or maybe Bawls."

"I think I'd enjoy some Bawls," Tarkus replied.

Macbo looked like he was going to say something crude, but thought better of it. "I'll get you one, then."

"Better get me two, people will laugh if I just have one."