ARDA LORE

BERNIE ROESSLER: IS THE SILMARILLION JUST A MANNISH MYTH?

One of the main reasons I have for reading the "History of Middle-earth" series is to gain additional insight and details of the early history of Arda. After five volumes (not counting volumes six through nine which concern The Lord of the Rings), I was therefore somewhat dumbfounded upon reading "Myths Transformed" in Morgoth's Ring. For those readers who may not have had an opportunity to read the book, "Myths Transformed" presents us with the revelation that Tolkien, after the publication of The Lord of the Rings, and near completion of the "Quenta Silmarillion," intended to drastically alter the cosmogony of the Elder Days. To quote Tolkien directly: "It is now clear to me that in any case the Mythology must actually be a 'Mannish' affair. The High Eldar...must have known the 'truth' (according to their measure of understanding). What we have in the Silmarillion etc. are traditions...handed on by Men in Númenor and later in Middle-earth...blended and confused with their own Mannish myths and cosmic ideas." He continues, "At that point (in reconsideration of the early cosmogonic parts) I was inclined to adhere to the Flat Earth and the astronomically absurd business of the making of the Sun and Moon. But you can make up stories of that kind when you live among people who have the same general background of imagination, when the Sun 'really' rises in the East and goes down in the West, etc. When however (no matter how little most people know or think about astronomy) it is the general belief that we live upon a 'spherical' island in 'space' you cannot do this anymore (MR: 370)."

This, as Christopher Tolkien states on the next page, is certainly "unambiguous enough." A discussion and an unfinished narrative follow in which Tolkien gives us a brief description of the course that the new cosmogony would follow. For example, "the Making of the Sun and Moon must occur long before the coming of the Elves; and cannot be made to be after the death of the Two Trees (MR: 375)." Also, "The coming of Men will therefore be much further back (MR: 378)." Further portions of the book concern the kindling of the stars; the nature of Melkor (who "must be made far more powerful in original nature") and his motives; and the nature and origin of Orcs, which may now have been from captured Men rather than Elves.

As you can see, these sections present us with an entirely new conception of how Tolkien later envisioned the making of Arda than we have been accustomed. My reason for mentioning all this is to pose the question: "What are we to make of it?" Since we now know it was Tolkien's definite intent to alter his creation, should we consider this new cosmogony the "true" history of the Elder Days, or adhere to the old version which we have known so long.

Besides the purely literary aspects of discussing this issue, I'm interested in what the official (or semi-official) ICE position is as well. As role players, the answer to this question has important repercussions, and not only for players in the First Age, as I hope to make clear sometime in a future article. Since at least four of ICE's authors are readers of this periodical, perhaps somewhat of a consensus can be reached.

Let me begin the debate (or at least continue it, for it actually began with Tolkien himself) by defending the retention of the old cosmogony as found in the published Silmarillion. Perhaps the strongest argument for its retention is that the "Flat Earth" cosmogony was indeed published in the Silmarillion nearly twenty years ago, and is well known to most of the readers of Tolkien, whereas the "Myths Transformed" version would be relatively obscure. Another point is that the "Myths Transformed" version was, of course, never completed. Possibly its contemplation could even have been a major reason for the fact that J.R.R. Tolkien never actually completed the Silmarillion. So against the fairly detailed and completed version that we have for the "Flat Earth" cosmogony we have only a brief description for the new version found in "Myths Transformed."

In addition, as Tolkien himself stated, "One loses, of course, the dramatic impact of such things as the first 'incarnates' waking in a starlit world — or the coming of the High Elves to Middle-earth and unfurling their banners at the first rising of the Moon (MR: 370)." All is not astronomically correct with the new version either, as Christopher Tolkien mentions, and although I am quoting him somewhat out of context, I feel it is still a valid point. He writes: "why is the Myth of the Two Trees (which so far as the record goes he never showed any intention to abandon) more acceptable than that of the creation of the Sun and the Moon from the last fruit and flower of the Trees as they died? or indeed, if this is true, how can it be acceptable that the Evening star is the Silmaril cut by Beren from Morgoth's crown (MR: 371)?"

Points in favor of the new cosmogony, besides it being J.R.R. Tolkien's later intent, is that it is more consistent with our primary would, not only astronomically but in other aspects as well, which apparently was his main motivation. For example, since there are no long ages without light in Endor, there is no need for a "sleep" to be set upon the plants etc. (not to mention some sort of maintenance of a moderate temperature).

Also, as Tolkien indicates, with the coming of Men placed much further back, their depiction in the mythology is easier to explain: "for a bare 400 years is quite inadequate to produce the variety, and the advancement (e.g. of the Edain) at the time of Felagund."

These are the pertinent points of the debate as I see them; perhaps others can present more. For some, the entire debate may seem presumptuous. After all, if J.R.R. Tolkien's opinion regarding the Flat Earth version was that "you cannot do this any more," who are we to challenge the professor in matters of mythology, especially regarding his own creation? Still, and I do not think Tolkien would disagree with this, his creation would not have the power that it does were it not first of all a great story. Since Tolkien did not complete the Silmarillion to his own satisfaction, the task fell to other hands—his son's—to finish the story. I doubt that any of us are sorry he did, despite the reservations he has expressed about not including commentary.

Since its publication, The Silmarillion has been read by millions and come to be loved by all of us. This completed story has a power that a short outline can never have, and I for one am not ready to give up as being the "true" version.

BERNIE ROESSLER: JUST WHAT DID HAPPEN THAT NIGHT ON WEATHERTOP?

In a letter in OH 10/11, Jason Vester brings up the idea of using "Recurrent Ringwraith" characters in a campaign. One of the reasons he lists for this is that it "reconciles the supposed might of the Nazgûl with their occasional incompetence....These are Sauron's mightiest servants?"

Now I don't think that Jason actually believes that the Nazgûl were incompetent. However, his comments do bring up the point of just why didn't these powerful minions simply seize the One Ring when they had Frodo and company well-nigh at their mercy that night at Weathertop? Of course, besides the four terrified Hobbits, there was also one awesome Ranger present, but I don't think it was Aragorn's actions alone which drove off the Ringwraiths. Aragorn himself said "I cannot think why they have gone and do not attack again (FotR: 209)."

So, for a more complete answer we must make the attempt of entering the mind of the Morgul-lord. Since we don't have the luxury of having Mûrazôr's personal memoirs, some of the following is pure speculation. But perhaps it will offer to some a better explanation of that night.

Try to put yourself then, into the Black Captain's boots. Imagine that you have existed now in one form or another for five thousand years. Once you were a powerful Númenórean lord. Indeed, according to the biography in ICE's Lords of Middle-earth II, you were the second son of Tar-Ciryatan. By all measures you are proud and vain. Not content with serving your father and brother, you traveled to Middle-earth and soon became a pupil of sorcery under Sauron and the first of the Ringwraiths.

Although you were at first mortified by the defeat of your master at the end of the Second Age, you soon realized that the most precious One Ring had not been destroyed. As long as the One Ring existed, you knew that your master would again arise, and your desire for revenge of those traitorous Elf-friends would be realized.

So when your master did reappear you quickly returned to his service. You became a mighty king in Angmar and destroyed three realms of the rebel Dúnedain in the North. Your work done there, you took charge in Mordor and soon captured Minas Ithil and a priceless palantír, and soon after slew (you believed) the last King of Gondor.

Through the long centuries both you and your master have believed the One Ring to be lost. But now, beyond all hope, news has arrived this most precious of all items has been found! Quickly, plans are made for a war of conquest, but first you and your fellow Ringwraiths are sent on your most important mission yet: to seek out the One's possessor and return it (and, if possible, him; there is a matter of punishment to be resolved) to Barad-dûr. With unrestrained eagerness you set out after winning a crossing over the Anduin. For two months you wander the Wild with your companions, and your frustration, not to mention your master's wrath, begins to grow (UT: 339). You then are ordered to ride to Isengard, where that treacherous Saruman has news of the One. Then you race to the Baranduin, covering over four hundred miles in five days, where you drive off a guard of Rangers. You then send Khamûl and three other Nazgûl into the Shire, while two more (probably led by Dwar of Waw) are sent to Bree (FotR: 277). Meanwhile, you yourself enter the Barrow-downs, where you arouse the wights that you had sent there fourteen centuries earlier. Your anticipation for finding the One and bringing it to your master for great reward grows daily.

Imagine, then, your ire when your companions return empty handed. You are especially angered at Dwar for letting those miserable little Halflings escape into the Chetwood with some long-legged stranger, and berate him in front of the others. Nevertheless, you realize that if the Hobbits are heading eastward, Weathertop would be the ideal place to spot them again. You ride there and wait, when not Halflings but that meddling Grey Wizard appears! After a fierce fight, he flees, and you again send Khamûl and three others to pursue him, while you resume your watch. It gives you, then, the utmost pleasure when the Halflings and the most precious One are again detected. You and your companions then approach their encampment that night. The call of the One grows stronger step by step. You order Dwar and another to stay behind to further chastise him, while you and two others advance towards the Ring. Then one of the little fools plays right into your hands and puts on the Ring. He is yours now, and you can hardly contain your glee. Still, the rat dares to shout that vile curse of "Elbereth" at you, which startles you momentarily as you make your first swing, which pierces the rat, but not where you wanted The next thing to occur, however, is totally unexpected. A being of great power and courage steps up wielding fire. You flinch. Has that grey meddler returned or some powerful Elf-lord? Did the lure of the Ring blind you to his presence? You withdraw. The other Ringwraiths await your word. "Who was that guy boss? Should we move in and get them again?" You see Dwar standing silently to the side. Your pride will not let you admit you retreated before a mere mortal.

"No," you say, "I have accomplished what I desired to do. The Halfling with the One has been pierced by a Morgul-knife. We need now only play them like a fish on a line. It will be great sport."

Well, that's my explanation for that night. One other point is that Nazgûl all seem less powerful the farther they are from Mordor (or some other fixed locus of power, such as Carn Dûm). For example, Gandalf was able to hold off all nine Ringwraiths at Weathertop, but had grave doubts about being able to stop the Morgul-lord at Minas Tirith. Glorfindel drove away three at the Bridge of Mitheithel (FotR: 222) and the Rangers held off all nine until dark at Sarn Ford. (UT: 341) This is not something that was previously mentioned in "The General Powers and Features of the Nazgûl" in ICE's Lord of Middle-earth, but is definitely an aspect that needs to be explored.

TOMMY MARTIN: WERE THERE SCHOOLS IN MIDDLE-EARTH?

Someone once asked me if I thought there was a Hobbit school in the Shire. I don't think there would be, since the Hobbits were primarily agricultural, which would leave the responsibility of education in the hands of the family—education concerning matters of planting or the family trade, etc. But what about elsewhere in Middle-earth? Is there a University in Minas Tirith, was there one in Fornost Erain, or was there a form of school in Tharbad or Bree?

Adam Miller responds:

I think any schools in Middle-earth would be private, or run by guilds. I don't think Tolkien meant for the governments of Middle-earth to run public schools. Being private, they would pop up where needed; a lot of the time, informally. For example, Rivendell might be seen as a school of sorts, because anyone they let in was free to use its knowledge resources. In Minas Tirith, guilds could have set up any number of schools for training people in a particular field.

Dave Craft responds:

There might be an "official" answer to this sort of thing, but I imagine a practical guess can be found by looking at European history. Those of us in modernized cultures have a tendency to think of widespread education as being a natural thing; historically, this isn't so. The only persons who got any formal education were the rich and the ruling class. For the same reason they were obligated to run the state, either from a governmental or economic viewpoint, and needed to know how. Thus, education was often one-on-one, and sometimes several-on-one. There was certainly not the widespread educational apparatus that exists in the US, for example.

It's highly unlikely, I'd think, that there were universities (or other major centers of learning) in Middle-earth at any point in its history. There was simply no need for them, except very possibly at some of the historic heights of civilization. There were simply too few people who actually needed to know the types of information a university is intended to provide (history, mathematics, geography, to name a few), and thus probably would not have had enough "teachers" to go around.

Georg Donde responds:

Actually, European universities came into existence quite early: as far back as the 9th to the 10th centuries. They were all located in the major cities, and, of course, existed primarily to teach theology (although astronomy, mathematics, etc. were not neglected). Given that the Catholic Church was primarily responsible for the initial establishment of the centers of learning (though they soon escaped its control, to a degree), it would be difficult to justify the existence of such in Middle-earth, except, maybe, those places where organized religion holds sway. (Sauronic centers of education? Hmmmm....) Of course some intellectual Gondorian king (of which there were a few) could have founded a school himself; or one of the more enlightened Princes of Dol Amroth or such...

Mark Thorne responds:

Adam Miller's points above are pretty good. There were no "public schools" at all really. Education would all be conducted by the parents for the vast majority of the populace, and the things taught would concern only the basic necessities of life for that family, whether it be trade, farming, herding, weaving, etc. Guilds also would run one-on-one apprenticeships with their charges. Any educational facility would by its very nature be quite specialized.

It should be noted (as Georg did) that, historically speaking, "higher education" and universities emerged for religious reasons rather than the desire to educate the masses. An educated populace was/is often seen as a dire threat to a government.

It is evident to me from my probing readings into Southern Gondor: The People that Chris Seeman is really trying to push the presence of "things religious in nature" in Gondor, which I commend him for. In almost every past MERP book, the subject is just kind of swept under the rug, which is not realistic. Because of Chris' treatment of it—at least in Gondor—I can easily see how a university could arise at an appropriate place. (I chose Minas Ithil because they were described as more intellectual people in the Minas Ithil city book.) How religiously connected that university would be I don't know though. That's a very good question. Unlike the Catholic Church, the Dúnedain never really had a priesthood or pastorate or anything like that.

I wonder if Dol Amroth (Lond Ernil) had anything other than guild teaching?

As for Hobbits, the young were most likely trained by their parents and extended family in whatever they would need to live a respectable, Hobbit-like existence. No doubt the Tooks and a few other families placed a greater importance on preserving records and facts, etc., but no formal schooling at all, I'd think.

Chris Seeman responds:

In drawing upon real-world historical analogies for imagining what Middle-earth might have been like, it is important to contextualize the categories one uses. For example, while it is true that the European university emerged within (or because of) a religious framework, it does not necessarily follow that the dynamics or institutional "needs" of "religion" will be the same in Middle-earth. Religious mediation among the Dúnedain of Gondor was performed not by a separate ecclesial institution, but by the king, who was responsible for embodying the lore and traditions of the past. As I see it, one of the principal "needs" of such a cultically grounded polity would therefore be the preservation of knowledge and memory of such lore. This means that scholars, scribes, loremasters, and the like would fulfill a very important societal role, especially since (as Tolkien mentions somewhere) the aristocracy was not, as a rule, all that interested in delving into its Númenórean past, so fraught with tragedy and sorrow for them. This last point, it seems to me, is the more important one: given the fact that there are institutions in Gondor for the transmission and preservation of lore, what social position did their members occupy? With which political forces were they aligned? Whence did they derive their legitimacy? And so on.

Mike Edly responds:

Umbar was established long before the fall of Númenor, and it was the primary Númenórean colony in Middle-earth, so it's possible that it had a great store of Númenórean lore—at least for some time after the Downfall. Later wars and other disasters may have destroyed the Umbarean libraries, like the fires destroyed Alexandria.

Mark Thorne responds:

Given the fact that Umbar was the premier Númenórean colony, it would by default contain much Númenórean lore. Also, given the fact that it was the primary conduit for Númenor's later tributary system, I would suspect that it also would by default have once contained large amounts of information and lore on many of Middle-earth's indigenous populations. Perhaps some of the more culturally advanced peoples of Middle-earth even had embassies of sorts in Umbar, I don't know. But that's another topic.

Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that I don't think there would ever have been a university in Umbar, not that there weren't libraries or "lore centers" and such. Since university-type education existed almost exclusively for the elite, where better to send the elite than straight back to the elitist place of all, Númenor itself? And most of the elite in Númenor would have most likely been raised in Númenor anyway, at least early on in her colonial history. For these reasons, there wouldn't be a need for a university in Umbar, and also because no indigenous inhabitant of Middle-earth would have any sort of access to this type of facility.

The concept of public education was only started back in the 1800s by some guy from Boston. Before that, all education was either done in-home or at very private education institutions (i.e. Harvard, William & Mary College, etc.). And, then again, only during the mid- to late-Middle Ages did that phenomenon arise. But I wholeheartedly agree about there being storehouses of lore and knowledge in pre-Third-Age Umbar. The Library of Alexandria analogy could be quite valid in fact. Off the top of my head, I would say that around 1640 TA, the only places in Middle-earth that would have anything even remotely resembled a "university" would be Minas Ithil and Fornost.

Mike Edly responds:

I see Mark Thorne's point about the colonialists returning to Númenor for education and such, but it seems to me that "elite" is a somewhat relative term. The Númenórean elite would have access to Númenor, but the elite of other cultures would be happy to learn Númenórean lore, regardless of the locale. In any case, they might not be able to afford the cost of traveling beyond Umbar, and they would be forced to take what they could get.

Doug Pearson responds:

I would think that there would be more centers of learning for Elves than just Rivendell and Ost-in-Edhil west of Moria for the simple reason that Elves live so long. They also have a natural love of learning and a desire to create and also a desire to preserve the past that all comes together to promote learning. I'm not sure if all learning centers would have to have large collections of written materials, since there would be individuals around that had actually lived through most of the important events of the past. In any case, other centers besides the above two could be Lórien, the Halls of Thranduil in (what was then) Greenwood the Great, and Mithlond (the Grey Havens of Círdan the Shipwright). This last one could be a major center because of its age (founded in the first year of the Second Age) and the age of Círdan himself.

Adam Miller responds:

Regarding education in Middle-earth I am led to the following conclusions: 1) most "lore centers" were probably large libraries erected by the government in big cities, or small private ones set up almost anywhere; 2) there were probably not very many (if at all) big universities, most people just relying on independent studies in the big libraries; 3) we shouldn't rule out the possibility of "elementary" type schools, where rich families would send their children to learn history, writing, reading, etc. (they had that type of stuff even in ancient Rome); 4) wars, the Plague, etc., would lead to the demise or destruction of these institutions, and until Aragorn became king, the government probably did little to replace or repair these places, being more concerned with military matters...

Mark Thorne responds:

I'm not sure that any of the elite of native cultures would be trained by Númenóreans; at least this would probably be true later in the Second Age. The books say that when the Númenóreans first landed on the shores of Middle-earth, they came as explorers and teachers. Perhaps early on in the Second Age, when Númenor was at its true intellectual height, they at times established "field schools" to teach the indigenous peoples about their culture and they trained them in whatever things they wanted to teach them. Now there's a plausible idea. But time period would be the deciding factor in my mind, because later on, Númenor was mostly just interested in how much tribute they could extract from their colonies.

CHRIS SEEMAN: WHAT WAS THE ORIGINAL NAME FOR THE HORNBURG?

As we all know, the Hornburg, the fortress where Tolkien set the famous battle of Helm's Deep in The Lord of the Rings, was in origin a Gondorian citadel, long in existence before the Rohirrim ever settled the green fields of Calenardhon. Tolkien never disclosed its original (Sindarin) name.

However, in UT: 371, Tolkien states that it was only called the Hornburg AFTER the death of Helm Hammerhand (who also gave his name to the defile whose entrance the fort guarded), and that prior to this time the Rohirrim had called it Súthburg (OE. "South Fortress"). To my mind, it seems very likely that this was, in fact, the meaning of its original Gondorian name—south of what, if not the neighboring Gondorian fortress of Angrenost?—and that the Rohirrim simply translated it into their own language (as they did with all the other extant Gondorian place-names of Calenardhon). If this is a valid assumption, then the original proper name of the fort would have been Harnost (on the model of Angrenost, Fornost).

In the now out-of-print Isengard and Northern Gondor module, ICE (or that module's author) apparently missed this reference, and chose rather to render Hornburg into Sindarin as Ostiras, "Fortress-tower" (with tiras probably intended as tir(ith) + ras "guard-point," interpreting "horn" on the analogy of Caradhras "Redhorn," the name for one of the mountain peaks above Moria). In the light of Tolkien's above mentioned comment, however, this seems to be doubly mistaken, since "Horn" is plainly an allusion to Helm's Horn, rather than to a mountainous spire or pinnacle.

Happily, the error may be ascribed without difficulty to a misinformed Gondorian scribe of the late Third or early Fourth Age, who knew that it had originally been a Gondorian foundation, but who knew only the "modern" name and assumed it: a) to have been a translation of the original, and b) to have alluded to a mountain-like "horn" rather than to a horn that one blows.

DIRK BRANDHERM: WAS HARONDOR FORESTED? (RESPONSE TO WESLEY FRANK, OH 12: 42-43)

I would certainly share Wesley Frank's view in assuming large parts of Harondor originally (i.e., under the "natural"conditions of a warm temperate climate) to have supported a significant forest cover. But just how much of it would have been left at the end of the Third Age, when Tolkien on his LotR-map labels Harondor as "now a debatable and desert land," is an entirely different matter. That some change from the original condition had occurred by then is clearly indicated by Tolkien's use of the adverb "now." So, we may ask, when did this change occur and how dramatic was it? Was it sudden? Was it gradual? What were the reasons that brought it about?

If, in order to answer these questions, we take a brief look at processes of desertification in our own world—always the primary source also for our secondary creation—we find in essence that, on a regional scale, overexploitation of resources really is the crucial factor. Along with Wesley, of course, we may assume that "healthy societies" (however you wish to define such a term) generally care to preserve at least those resources that are of any importance to them.

But even taking for granted the absence of internal pressure on the socio-ecological system over a very long period of time, massive interference from outside very rapidly can destroy any such equilibrium. This is most clearly demonstrated by the effect Greek and Phoenician colonization had on the Mediterranean forests, especially in Anatolia and Iberia, which together with California are named by Wesley as examples of sites that in our world on the seaward slopes of their coastal mountain ranges would support Harondor-style forests. However, the forests present on the respective sites in Iberia and Anatolia today are almost entirely the result of rather recent campaigns of reforestation. Now it is your guess what California would look like today, had the Greeks or Phoenicians settled there and cut timber for their fleets, or had Philip II of Spain got actual access to its forests while building his Great Armada to invade England with. Granted, as the natives there didn't posses any livestock, the effect might not have been as dramatic as it was in the Mediterranean, but you give the locals some goats or sheep and they'll finish what's left.

If we look at the likelihood for similar developments in the history of Middle-earth, the primeval forests—for the area that later was to become Harondor we may imagine giant cedars and the like—would have to pay a heavy toll ever since the Númenóreans started to establish dominions on the coast, quite apart from whatever the local natives might have done. This would be especially true from the time when "Umbar is made into a great fortress of Númenor" in SA 2251, and would worsen with the building of Pelargir in SA 2350 (although much of the timber needed for the latter would have come from the southern slopes of the Ered Nimrais).

It is not easy to estimate the amount of timber contributed by the forests of would-be Harondor during the Great Armament (SA 3310-3319), but Ar-Pharazôn's fleet-building program must have used an incredible quantity of wood and could not feasibly have been realized with timber from the forests of Númenor alone. Also, it seems rather unlikely that the ruling elite of the island would have simply done away with their leisure hunting grounds. Much of the shipbuilding-material here must without doubt have come from Middle-earth. Harondor, being part of the "hinterland" of Umbar, as well as of Pelargir, would have been a natural choice for cutting timber in a big way. Later on, during the Third Age, the Kin-strife and the ensuing wars of Gondor with the Corsairs of Umbar once more would promote ship-building activity on both sides and, as a consequence, lead to renewed large-scale lumbering in Harondor—especially for Umbar, Harondor is the only substantial source for shipbuilding material, unless of course you want to assume a large-scale import of timber from beyond the Haradwaith.

On the other hand, the potential degree of recovery of the forest is certainly a matter open to debate. While in temperate, reasonably humid climates, and in areas exempt from use as pasture the forest may soon return, under semi-arid conditions a restoration of the forest-cover usually turns out to be very difficult to say the least. It is not only the total amount of rain which is important here, but also the general pattern of precipitation. The rainfall Harondor is likely to get from its geographical position probably would not be evenly distributed over the year; instead, most of it would come down during the winter-months as strong downpours, frequently even as torrential rainstorms. Such winter rainfalls, if following a period of large-scale clearing of woodland, would wash away from the hillsides much of the fertile soils, the latter to be deposited in basins and eventually in the deltas of the major rivers, leaving behind deep ravines and other typical features of intensive erosion.

What you get then is, in effect, a dry savanna likely to develop into secondary scrubland in places which are not grazed upon for some time, with minor remains of the original forest only in very remote areas, whence timber could not be rafted to the coast. In such a scenario—certainly at the close of the Third Age—you end up with much of the hilly interior of Harondor south of the Emyn Laer transformed into barren badlands, poor pasture, separating oasis-like settlements with irrigation-based subsistence agriculture along perennial rivers.

The general deterioration of the landscape also would lead to unrest among the Haruze tribes, to increased migration pressure and much increased competition for pastures. I am not even sure if the Dark Lord's minions would have to raise a finger in order to channel this unrest into mounting pressure on Gondor's southern borders in such a way as the one described by Luke Potter for the Balchoth of the Talath Harroch (OH 12). As far as I can see, in Harondor you don't have to deteriorate the climate by magical means to waste people's subsistence. Dúnedain shipbuilders and Haruze livestock eventually will do the work for you: just bide your time, and when the inevitable crisis peaks, seize the opportunity and hold on for the ride.

1. "Natural" is meant here to indicate the absence of Mannish (or Elvish, or Dwarven) interference with the ecosystem concerned. Even under such "natural" conditions, however, a population of, say, mûmakil unchecked by Mannish (or Elvish, or Dwarven) predators—and, we may take it, almost or completely without natural enemies—most certainly would have devastating effects on any closed forest-cover.

2. Personally I would prefer to speak of "stable" societies (i.e., of societies forming part of a "stable" ecosystem). The notion of stability here is, of course, a relative one, and should not be taken to indicate a complete absence of change.

3. Even in zones with temperate climate, potential and actual extension of forests usually don't coincide. Much of the foothills of the Ered Nimrais as well as of the Misty Mountains probably were used as highland pasture by Dunnish tribes, considerably restricting the actual extension of closed forest-cover.

MARCUS WEVERS: WHAT IS THE NATURE OF MAGIC IN MIDDLE-EARTH?

To understand the nature of magic in Middle-earth one has to go back to the creation of Arda, the world in which Middle-earth is set. In The Silmarillion, Tolkien tells the reader about Eru Ilúvatar and the Ainur who later on became known as the Valar. They created the world with a music that reflects the Ainur's and Eru's thoughts: their individual nature resides in the music, created by their harmonious and unanimous playing of individual melodies and based on three different themes proposed by Eru. The entire history and future of Arda are encapsulated in this Great Music. Thus, the power of the mind, the spoken word, and music which create a world constitute the original form of magic in Middle-earth.

An important aspect is the personality or aura of the creator. Everything made by an Ainur or Eru himself is strongly associated with them and contains a part of their personality. A very evident example is the Ruling Ring. Since it was forged by Sauron himself in the Sammath Naur of Mordor, it holds a part of the evil nature of its master. After his defeat at the end of the Second Age, Sauron is no longer able to recall his former shape because too much of his inert power lies locked in this powerful ring.

Nature itself was deeply influenced by the Valar in the first ages. Magical changes are not achieved by "classic" incantations, nor by spells that draw upon power or energy of some sort to bring about alterations. Instead, the changes are actually identical to the thoughts and emotions of the Valar. Magic is not separate from Nature, but should be accepted as being a part of the nature that resides within all of Arda.

Every intelligent creature on Arda—consciously or subconsciously—possesses the ability to use this (hidden) magic. Elves were the first to learn this from the Valar, and they evolved a natural way of living with the magic that surrounded them. Mankind (especially the Númenóreans) learned about this way from the Elves, but those Men who remained in Endor were often excluded from it or instructed by servants of Morgoth.

In the course of time, and during many wars against Morgoth and his foremost servant Sauron, the Elves retired gradually from Middle-earth and much knowledge was lost. Their former natural abilities became strange, mystical powers in the eyes of people living in Arda, especially Men and Hobbits. Just as our world, Tolkien's world develops in the eye of the beholder and acquires the character of the miraculous, as when the Hobbits encountered Gildor and his followers "...the hobbits could see the starlight glimmering on their hair and in their eyes. They bore no lights, yet as they walked a shimmer, like the light of the moon above the rim of the hills before it rises, seemed to fall about their feet (LotR: 93)."

Two kinds of magic can be distinguished: firstly, natural magic, including also the "true," incomprehensible (classic) magic, and secondly, tangible, artifactual magic. The Lord of the Rings is full of examples showing the magical power of items such as the palantíri, the Elven cloaks, or weapons like Gandalf's sword Glamdring.

Natural magic usually encompasses all other kinds of magic because it is the source of all power. On the one hand, it can be interpreted as a form of communication between the creation of Eru and the person who wants to change it. Tolkien uses a personification of Nature, even the part which we normally would call inanimate. For example, the cruel mountain Caradhras overcomes the fellowship of the Ring; Gandalf says about Dwarves: "iron [is] their servant" (LotR: 335). This "communication" is basically the mediation of magic, and may be treated as control over the nature of a thing. Tom Bombadil, for instance, frees the Hobbits in the Old Forest from Old Man Willow by such power (LotR: 135); Elrond controls the river Bruinen (LotR: 240).

The word of command is of major importance in "true" magic. Words and songs (especially in former ages) are the most powerful forces. True magic could be defined as the act of altering something against its will. Every being reacts according to its own will. A possible interpretation of true magic is this: if Gandalf desires fire to take a certain shape, he commands it to do so "naur an edraith ammen!" (LotR: 308), whereby it assumes a changed appearance ("green and blue flames..." ibid.). If the target (in this case, fire) proves resistant to the command, it becomes more difficult to subdue and maintain control of it. This kind of wizardry is rather exhausting. Hence, Gandalf gets tired in Moria (LotR: 344, 348). However, it is not possible to alter something against its nature: "I can't burn snow!" (LotR: 309). If two wizards are trying to control something simultaneously, they are actually battling each other: Gandalf fighting the Balrog in Moria (LotR: 345); his duel with Sauron (LotR: 421, 517).

It is not always necessary to cast a spell or actually "do" magic, as magic is everywhere. An item, for instance, is shaped by its history and its maker, even (if one wishes) gaining actual sentience or life. For example, Boromir's horn in Moria: "loud the challenge rang and bellowed, like the shout of many throats....For a moment the Orcs quailed..." (LotR: 348).

Artifactual magic is very important in The Lord of the Rings. In most cases, true magic is bound up with some sort of item: Gandalf uses his staff to control fire and light (LotR: 316, 327). The staff serves as a focus of control and is a symbol of power, which Saruman loses when he is revealed to be a traitor by Gandalf: "your staff is broken" (LotR: 607). Furthermore, Gandalf is also the wearer of Narya, the Elven Ring of Fire. Galadriel, the Lady of Lórien, is likewise the guardian of an Elven ring: Nenya, the Ring of Water. She also possesses a mirror capable of opening a vision to Frodo. The western door to Moria represents artifactual magic combined with the power of words.

The only true wizards are the Istari. The Lord of the Rings names five: Saruman, Gandalf, Radagast, and two others. The Witch-king of Angmar and the Necromancer of Dol Guldur, as opposites of the Istari, receive different and very much contrasting names. In this way the other side of magic to which they belong is expressed: the "black" magic of Sauron's master Morgoth.

This sorcery has its origins in despair, hatred, and darkness. It ensnares, enslaves, and frightens its enemies. Its effects are available only to those who submit to its power. Sorcery, however, derives from the Void into which Morgoth was banished: it devours itself and creates bodiless, mindless creatures which have their existence on that plane.

Instead of giving life, Melkor (who subsequently became Morgoth) corrupted and destroyed everything shaped by his fellow Ainur. He succeeded in breeding grotesque creatures of Elven stock—Orcs—in order to imitate the Elder Children of Ilúvatar. The power he used could only destroy and oppress. A character's soul is changed and vanquished by the pain of the Void and the emptiness of his or her own deeds. This power has only one goal: "to rule them all....and in the darkness bind them."

Nature reacts according to the kind of magical control exercised upon it. If Nature is corrupted against its will, the process can lead to disastrous results. Greenwood the Great is corrupted into Mirkwood by Sauron's presence in Dol Guldur; quite the opposite is Galadriel, whose presence gives Lórien peace and light to become a blooming dreamland; other examples include Fangorn, the Old Forest, Mordor, Orthanc, and Moria. Sauron even gains control of the weather: all of Mordor breathes the foul air of its master.

Nature's reaction is mirrored in other events as well: Orodruin erupts when the power in Barad-dûr was shaken (LotR: 981); the storm during the battle of the Hornburg begins just in time, as if summoned by Saruman.

Words can also reveal facets of Nature and may create a powerful effect in themselves. Consider, for example, Gandalf's appearance in Fangorn: "Aragorn felt a shudder run through him at the sound,....it was like the sudden bite of a keen air....'Let us sit down and be more at ease.'....Immediately, as if a spell had been removed, the others relaxed and stirred" (LotR: 515). The name of Varda herself, Elbereth Gilthoniel, functions like a benediction to those in dire need.

Persons associated with magic (like Gandalf, Elrond, or Galadriel) have the power to lead and command others. Such "Wizardry" includes not only magical abilities, but also political intrigue and power struggle, manifested (for instance) in the cock's cry during the siege of Minas Tirith "recking nothing of wizardry or war, welcoming only the morning that in the sky far above the shadows of death was coming with the dawn" (LotR: 861). But in contrast to the dark powers, individuals such as these do not rule by brute force and oppression, but rather by the help of the knowledge they offer to others (e.g., the White Council). The Nazgûl, on the other hand, do not use powerful spells, but instead embody the despair and fear which their victims experience.

Knowledge (or the power a person possesses) may often serve as a substitute for magic. Saruman's great power is not only in his wizardry (control of the forces of Nature) but more specifically in his voice, which enables him to convince people to do what he wants. He even deceived the White Council (cf. LotR: 600). The power wielded by such an individual is almost physical and creates a kind of aura. Gandalf, Galadriel, and Strider may appear strong and powerful at will (when they show their true selves). This demonstrates the importance of the character and origin of a person (e.g., the healing hands of the king: Aragorn). Even magicians use instruments other than magic: Gandalf relies on Glamdring as well as on his staff.

Despite all this, the magic of Middle-earth is not as explicit as in other magical worlds. This quality stems from the strange nature of Middle-earth and from the beings that inhabit it. The reader gets the impression of a fascinating, magical world which seems unknown at first, but well known afterwards. Tolkien identifies the reader with the perspective and vision of his characters, as when Frodo beholds Lothlórien (LotR: 368) or when Gimli tells of the Glittering Caves. Tolkien uses comparisons and evokes parallels that unveil a hidden dimension of Nature: Gondolin is situated in a vale that seems to have been created by a huge axe of the Valar; Saruman's tower of Orthanc is described as "riven from the bones of the earth in ancient torment of the hills" (LotR: 578). In my opinion, this type of narration is responsible for most of the magic surrounding Middle-earth.

How may this kind of magic be represented in a role playing game? A GM might try to use the same technique as Tolkien used in his books. First of all, Wizards are rarely to be encountered. Secondly, many things are "magical" because they are unknown. The easiest way to achieve this is a style of narration that concentrates on personifying and mystifying Nature. GMs who employ this technique throughout an adventure don't have to rely on a magic system to create the feel of magic in Middle-earth. In my opinion, the division of magic into two kinds—as done in the MERP rules—is not useful. It is even worse to have lists of spells, which destroy every bit of atmosphere and imagination due to their immaculate structure.

Situations and words may create a magical atmosphere, depending on the person. It should never be forgotten that a large part of the magic contained in artifacts and certain locations derives from their history and background. An artifact should therefore never lack a legendary background or history. The GM may adapt Nature to his or her descriptions. For example, the cool and clear water of a well may enhance the vision of a man who quenches his thirst, leading him to desire to stand close to the shore and watch Elven ships sailing into the West, afterwards to feel calm and refreshed, as if Ulmo himself held his protecting hands over him.

Especially when "dark creatures" are encountered, a proper style of narration is much more important than rules and stats. The GM's words must create the impression of fear and dark power in the players' minds. In Tolkien's world, nearly everything has a mystical glamour which the GM might imitate: sixth sense, fears, visions, or dreams may often be used more effectively than "Detect Ambush" spells! The characters may also be blessed by the Valar: a star or the moon may rise at the right moment, etc.

There are two kinds of persons endowed with magic abilities: those who use natural talents (Elves, Dúnedain, Woses) and those who willingly learn to exercise control (magicians and wizards). Real magicians should choose a sphere of control, like the forces of Nature (fire, water, weather, etc.). A magician choosing to control creatures (e.g. Radagast) should not be called a magician in Tolkien's sense of the word (but may be an Istar or Wizard). "Wizard" is the true name for people who exert their power and use natural abilities. Certain spheres of magic should not consist of "spells." Radagast was an Istar, but devoted himself to the study of animals. His magic focused on the control of these creatures. Other spheres should also be treated as control-magic. Classic spell-magic (like locking doors, etc.) should not exist in this form, but may be countered by artifactual magic (like Dwarven runes, Elven cloaks etc.).

Spell lists (let's return to MERP) should be more flexible. A magician-player should not concentrate on spells possessed according to the game rules, but should use them as a measure of power and strength. Wizards in Middle-earth should rather be represented by their personality, wisdom, knowledge (and the dangerous search for it), and the resulting power.

There are two prime dangers to wizards, correctly stated in the MERP rules: first of all, the watching eye of Sauron and, second, the chance to be corrupted by the power of true magic. Another aspect is the suspicion most people feel towards wizards. "Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger" (LotR: 97). Words are a strong weapon of wizards. Used in the right way, they can have magic-like effect. They give power and control over normal people and may cloak or unveil things to the mind.

I would suggest treating anything that can be interpreted as "control" as true magic; everything else should be treated as the characters' special abilities or skills. Control spheres include fire, air, water, light, weather, sounds, and the mind (humanoid, animal, and plants). "Illusions" may be interpreted as control of the mind or the capacity to appear differently. Incantations are also difficult, but may be treated the same way as prayers: counterspell forces (i.e. Valar or the dark forces of Melkor). Banning or counterspells may assume the form of a duel, like that of Gandalf and the Balrog.

Natural magic is everywhere. The GM may use it even with non-magical characters. The player experiences this magic through the perception of his or her character and the GM's ability to depict Middle-earth.

Bards can be easily introduced to magic, since the power of words and song is the most original form of magic described by Tolkien. Someone who knows about the power and meaning of songs and ballads can put emotions into a performance and achieve marvelous effects. The subject and story of the music comes to life in the minds of the listener. A beautiful example of this from Elrond's house is: "At first the beauty of the melodies and of interwoven words in Elven-tongues....held him like a spell....Almost it seemed that the words took shape, and visions of far lands and bright things that he had never yet imagined opened out before him...." (LotR: 249).

Knowledge is never gained by way of magical means! The classic "Detect Magic" spells should be treated as a skill the wizard has learned in the course of long study. It is also nonsense to speak of true magic in connection with Nature (especially with respect to Animists and Rangers). Gandalf says "Elrond is a master of healing" (LotR: 237), not "he knows some useful spells." Aragorn has the healing hands of a king that enable him to use the healing powers of athelas. No Elf casts a spell first before moving silently and elegantly through the trees. Skills may be very well developed, and may be combined with or even have their origin in some form of natural magic, but are never to be understood as "magic" in the worlds of different game systems.

Everyone should certainly choose for himself or herself how much to stick to Tolkien's novel. There is always the possibility of saying: "OK, I want a fantasy Middle-earth with real magic in which I can play my characters just the same way as in other worlds but with a different background." In that case there's nothing wrong in taking MERP as a game system; but I would not call that a Middle-earth Tolkien would have thought of.

In this essay I have tried to interpret magic in a new way. I am very much interested in your opinion on whether the way magic is represented in role playing important to you or do you ignore it? Please feel free to write to me at: Lengsdorfer Hauptstr. 69 C, D-53127 Bonn, Germany (wevers@plumbum.chemie.uni-bonn.de) [Note: This piece was first published as an article in Windgeflüster 27 (October 1994); translation by Marcel Bülles, 1996; The quotations are from J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings George Allen & Unwin (One Volume-Paperback edition). Tolkien's books published after his death are not included in my research. Therefore material from the "History of Middle-earth" has not been drawn upon.]

JOHN FEIL: HOW DOES MIDDLE-EARTH MAGIC TRANSLATE INTO ROLEMASTER?

It would seem that how magic works in the Tolkien universe is of great interest to the scholars that write for this magazine. I see that there are "purists" who wish to role-play in a universe which is exactly like Tolkien's, and "borrowers" which take the Tolkien flavor and put it into their own universe. These people have differing needs in their magic systems.

For purists, current gaming products do not provide them with the unique flavor of the trilogy, as 1) there is the possibility of way too many mages floating around, basically increasing the "magico-technological" level of the world, and 2) Tolkien's special effects are virtually eclipsed by the special effects of the RM or D&D magic systems, where fireballs and lightning bolts are common occurrences. This means that, if MERP players wish to aim toward a purist style, they should really re-think their magic rules to be, in my opinion, a more racially-oriented system.

In Dirk Brandherm's article, he makes references to the effect that Gandalf knew spells from the Elves and Dwarves and Orcs, intimating a separate realm of knowledge for each race, and, in Wesley Frank's article, the author also says some things about Dwarves chanting to make impenetrable walls and Elves inscribing power into swords. This indicates to me that each race has the ability to look at how magic reacts with the physical plane in different ways, and is able to use those viewpoints to construct spells and rituals which have racially unique effects. But, though the spells originate from one people or another, they can be learned by magic users of any background if they can find a teacher. So, in game system terms, you divide magic into realms based on race, rather than on Essence, Channeling, and Mentalism.

Also, it appears that Tolkien divided his magic into the two classic forms of Rituals and Commands. As you know, the major difference between these two forms is time. Rituals take time to set up and activate, but, in most magic systems, rituals are much more powerful and variable, being able to call forces beyond the caster to create a great range of effects.

Commands, on the other hand, are instantaneous, but are much more limited in scope, as they tend to be very focused, encompassing but one concept such as "open," "away," "die," and so on. In most universes, commands are usually something like cheater codes that were installed in the physics of that universe by it's creators. In the Tolkien mythos, there are plenty of such elder creators that may have placed these commands in the cosmic structure in order to facilitate an easier lifestyle. Also, since these beings de-evolved from godhood, they could have brought the more common words of power with them, teaching them to members of different races as gifts or bribes.

Commands can also be race-specific, as a people's viewpoint on how the universe works may include a natural understanding of what a word might be for something. For example, Hobbits, being the slothful, hedonistic race that they are, would naturally be inclined to see the patterns in the universe that would allow them to understand the command word which raises and lowers their La-z-boy recliners. Orcs, having no inclination to be the perennial couch potatoes that Hobbits are, would find this concept alien, having more use for the Words of Power that abolish athlete's foot and the clap.

In any case, for Tolkien purists, I believe a new magic system should be constructed to take the place of the more powerful Spell Law. In this way, a purist might find it easier to fit his campaign into the world of Tolkien.

CHRIS SEEMAN: ARE THERE MIDDLE-EARTH EQUIVALENTS TO ESSENCE, CHANNELING, AND MENTALISM?

In the course of re-editing the Arnor module, it occurred to me that Wesley Frank used the term "Essence" quite frequently to describe magical or mystical power in Middle-earth. In order to better integrate a system-specific concept like this to Tolkien's world, I turned to Morgoth's Ring in search of an "indigenous" vocabulary to match (or at least approximate) the gaming concept being invoked. Here is the solution I arrived at. (Note that I do not hereby conclude that ICE's tripartite division of magic is wholly compatible with Tolkien's categories; I merely suggest that, if one chooses to utilize MERP or RM game mechanics in a Middle-earth setting, this represents one means of reaching a closer approximation to Tolkien's world.)

Essence—The energy or fairë (Q. "radiance") generated by all fëar (Q. "spirits;" sing. fëa), Essence serves as the basic medium for all forms of magic. The ultimate source of Essence is Eru Ilúvatar; but all of Eru's offspring, whether Ainur or Incarnates (Elves, Men, Dwarves, etc.), once brought into being, possess an individual and distinctive fairë of their own. The three realms of magic (Essence, Channeling, and Mentalism) draw upon different sources or levels of fairë for their power. The realm of (pure) Essence derives from the Nárë Úfirima (Q. "Flame Imperishable"), the primal fairë through which the spirit of Eru "in-dwells" the world he has created. This energy is also known as the Muinárë (Q. "Secret Fire;" S. Naur Thurin), and is occasionally used as a euphemism for Ilúvatar himself. The realm of Channeling refers to the demiurgic activity of the Valar and Maiar, and its energy derives specifically from the Essence with which they have imbued the substance of Arda. Melkor, originally the most powerful of the Valar, corrupted all physical matter with his Morifairë (Q. "Dark Essence"), and from this element his servants are able to work wicked sorcery and black magiks. The Elves often refer to Dark Essence as the Mordo (Q. "Shadow;" lit. "Taint"). Mentalism, the third realm of magic, draws exclusively upon the Essence of the individual spell-caster.

Steffen Solomon responds:

In my campaign, there are such rare holy people who act as "friends" or "servants" of patron Valar. While they clearly do not "worship" the Valar, they honor them highly. The Will of Eru and the Song of Creation are things that even the Valar have difficulty discerning. Much more so do the Incarnates. So it may be that a holy person seeks to promote the Will of Eru by referring to the methods, manner and themes of a particular Vala. So a holy person might try to follow the path of Varda, Kindler of Stars as they become a Seer (a 1st Ed. RM Channeling class). This Seer may enjoy a special "blessed" status akin to (but lesser than) the kings of Arnor and Gondor (for these kings act as the mediators and physical representatives of the Will of Eru). The Seer may look to the stars for guidance and foretelling. They may have powers of Light (e.g. creating physical light or a spiritual light that repels the undead/demonic). Such Seers may seek to aid other heroes by encouraging them or bolstering their flagging spirits (just as Varda and her chosen Istar, Gandalf, did).

However, if you imagine that in the world there is an oceanic pool of Essence that varies in quality and quantity and from which Essence user's draw, then it is possible to imagine that Morgoth's Dark Essence is like a polluted mass that flows in the pool but remains distinct from Essence. Channeling may represent however a spiritual connection that allows the Vala to "bless" the "servant" with a more pure Essence (thus being recognized as holy or clean of taint). In addition, a worshipper of Morgoth may develop a connection to Morgoth that would allow him to draw a "purer" Dark Essence. I cannot cite passages, but I seen to recall that when Morgoth was shut out into the Void he became powerless to affect the world personally and physically, but that he remained a dark spirit that could infect/affect others.

I don't believe that the Power needs to have a conscious attentiveness (unless a miracle or its evil equivalent is called for) to the "worshipper" to give power but rather a spiritual relationship of connectedness. However, I like much of what you say and I'm interested enough to re-read Morgoth's Ring.

Luke Potter responds:

Chris Seeman's assessment of Essence is right on. It must be the latent magic in Arda itself which is drawn upon both in a primal form (words of power) and a more ritualized form (the spells that we often see Gandalf casting when he has time to prepare himself). Furthermore, the use of essence spells must, in some way expose the caster's location and identity to other casters. (See Gandalf's fire spell on the slopes of Caradhras.) A lot of the old spell lists should be either disallowed, or changed completely. For example, I never saw Gandalf (or anyone for that matter) throwing around fireballs or bolts, but he did have that one cool trick with the burning branch in the forests outside Goblin-gate, and that fire-trick-thing he used against the wargs in FotR.

As Chris suggests, the dispersement of the "Morgoth element" fits the definition of Dark Essence very neatly. I can't imagine a more appropriate fit. What's needed is an reshuffling of the spell lists, possibly making Dark Essence a realm of its own. Throw the Dark Mage, Sorcerer and Dark Cleric spell lists in with a few basic utilitarian lists like "Lofty Bridge," and you have a new realm that specifically describes the use of Melkor-magic. That would give your typical dark spellcaster use of demon gates, necromancy and curses of all kinds.

I have to disagree with Stephen on the channeling bit, though. I see channeling as a very intentional and context specific granting of prayer on the part of the "higher power." It's useful to look beyond the definition, to the types of power typically granted by channeling spells. First, there is an overabundance of the mundane. Why does a Ranger have to be a channeler? Reading tracks et al should have more to do with specific practiced skills and experience with a certain area than it should with endearment to a demigod's heart. When a Ranger casts a Read Tracks spell, or a Path Tale spell, he is receiving a vision directly from his deity of information that he would not commonly have access to. That is a miracle. The same holds true with concealment type spells, water-walking and such, instant food multiplication, and instant quick-fix healing. These all sound like your typical run-of-the-mill miracles to me. In fact, this paragraph is starting to sound more like Jesus' resume than a discussion of magic in Middle-earth.

If channelers exist, they are the Valar and the Maiar, possibly Elves (if their songs could be construed as spells of some kind), and potentially the King of Gondor (if there is actually any "magic" happening on Mindolluin). In any event, Elven magic should receive special treatment. One would have to be very careful to distinguish natural Elven abilities with tricks we might call "magic," however. Smithing magic deserves consideration: Elven, Dwarven, Mannish and Maiar-made artifacts should be treated separately. There are a lot more considerations to be made, but I won't list them. Suffice it to say that I don't think the Rolemaster system fits Middle-earth magic very well. That highlights, however, the beauty of the system itself; one can easily adapt the offending aspect to one's personal tastes without affecting those parts that you do like.

Steve Danielson responds:

I prefer to explain the three realms of magic as follows, tying them to the Song of Creation, degenerative magic in Middle-earth, corruption, and power levels. A central idea that this explanation draws off is that the Song of Creation continues to play and evolve in Me from the initial song sung in the beginning. In time, the Song reflects Arda, and Arda reflects the Song.

Magic, power levels, artifacts, and spell casting: Basically a person's magical strength is tied to how closely they are part of the Song of Creation. Valar and Maiar who actually took part in the Song, gained significant power in Middle-earth to influence it, providing they descended to Middle-earth and gained physical form. Those who were sung into being as a central theme of the song gained some power as well. The other influencing factor for magical strength in Middle-earth is how closely that person is tied to the Song of Creation. Elves are closely tied, since they are immortal, with the older Elves having more magical strength (especially those who lived in Valinor); Men less so, since their spirits depart Middle-earth, and Dwarves and Hobbits even less so, since they were most likely creations of a single voice without the help (harmony) of others.

Artifacts in Middle-earth have the ability to increase a wielder's magical power by tying them more closely to Middle-earth and the Song. The One Ring for example, tied Sauron's spirit so tightly to Middle-earth that he would return to it if he was slain.

Spell casting I divide into two categories: Spells and Words of Command. Spells are basically what you see in Spell Law, with increased casting times for certain lists. Words of Command are when you try to create a magical effect with your own innate raw power without needing spell casting times or a specific spell. Words of Command are basically baring your spirit to the Song/Arda and trying to mold it. As a result they can be very dangerous in terms of corruption. A Word of Command effect is basically GM determined though I require the spell user to have some knowledge in a related spell list in order to create an effect.