As I reached the peak of the mountain and surveyed the surrounding lands, I turned to my faithful traveling companion.
Kiros! Rivendell has not yet fallen! We may still be of some use!""
His swarthy face, sweaty and dirty, broke into a wide, toothy grin.
""We must hurry, before Saruman and his White Hands arrive.""
Our strength renewed by the sight of our destination, we hurtled down the steep slope, stumbling slightly on the precarious rocks. My armor glistened in the sun with the blood of my enemies and Kiros' Sword of Five Hundred Half-Truths (you know, statistics and all that shit) clanged against his thighs.
But we were too late.
For as we ran, we heard a battle horn ring out from across the plain. My stomach fell and my heart ached. The White Hand Army was attacking Rivendell and we would soon be cut off from our goal.
Kiros and I sprinted and reached the gates of Rivendell. We looked into the face of Saruman and his army, clearly outnumbered. My neck tingled; it would soon be free of its role in keeping my body in one piece.
As he and his army laughed at our pitiful few defenders, Saruman plunged his hand into his robes and pulled out his most fearsome weapon: a TI-83 Scientific Calculator.
Ok, so, Rivendell wasn't an ancient elven sanctuary. It was a picnic table with a flag on it. And the White Hand orcs weren't snarling monsters created by a perversion of nature - they, like ourselves, were merely players in the Ring Game.
The Ring Game is a twice-annual live-action role-playing re-enactment (modifier-noun) of the Battle for the One Ring that takes place across Governor Dodge State Park. Players don armor, are assigned a point value representing their strength in battle and run around the park all afternoon trying to track down those pesky Hobbits and the One Ring.
Unlike Tolkien's story, however, the Ring Game has many possible outcomes, from the standard ""Drop it into Mount Doom and watch as Sauron sizzles"" to the ""Allow Saruman to wrest control of the ring from Sauron and wave it around in a humorous manner"" to the classic ""The Hobbits get lost and everyone decides to go to A&W for root beer and a burger.""
Most (if not nearly all) of the Ring Game's players are truly hardcore Tolkien fans. They've memorized the family trees of the thirteen mighty dwarves (Thorin, Gloin, Gimli, um, Bimli, and, uh, Jon Stewart?). To them, this is serious business.
But while I know the story (mostly) and I understand the difference between the Uruk-hai - truly nasty creatures who live for pain and misery - and trolls - evil beings who are dim-witted and clumsy and generally match the description of your standard Chicago Bears fan - when the meganerds playing Elrond and Saruman started arguing over the plan of battle for this particular engagement, I got distracted by a bunny.
Sure, it may sound ridiculous (and believe me, it really is), the Ring Game is a fun way for fans of the Tolkien's work to go out and get some (well-needed) sun. And, being in Wisconsin, it's a great opportunity to drink in public parks. At the end of the day there's almost always a final battle at the Crack of Doom (really a small crevice padded with velvet) where many calculators are sacrificed and no one really knows what is going on.
As for the fates of my traveling companion and me in the glorious battle of Rivendell? Well, the orc army, led by Saruman the White, easily overcame our pitiful defenses (despite our heroic attempts to break their calculators) and we were mercilessly slain and had to suffer the pains of battle - we were forced by the side of the road, unable to participate for the next 20 minutes. And no talking either! For dead men tell no tales.
Keaton is most definitely not a total geek. He totally doesn't play World of Warcraft. He doesn't own the Silmarillion or watch re-runs of Quantum Leap on the Sci-Fi channel. Definitely. E-mail him at keatonmiller@wisc.edu.
