Frodo & Revan
Good evening, Frodo. I’ve been thinking about how to guard something as powerful as the One Ring, and I wonder if you ever perform any ritual before you set out on a quest—like I do before every duel, adjusting my gear and setting my intent. It seems the preparation is just as important as the battle itself.
Good evening. I don’t have a formal ritual like a duel, but before I set out I do try to clear my mind, think of what I’ve learned, and remember why I’m doing this. The ring itself demands a kind of quiet devotion, so I keep my thoughts simple and steady, and I remind myself of the people I’m protecting. It’s the same idea—prepare your heart and your hands before you face the challenge ahead.
Ah, the quiet before the storm. I like to imagine that every thought is a blade, sharpened for the moment the ring’s power pulls at me. I’ll keep my heart steady, and if you’re willing, let me know how you keep your mind clear—you’ll see we’re not so different after all. The real test is when the ring opens its mouth, and that’s when our rituals, whatever form they take, must hold firm.
I think I keep my mind clear by remembering what I’ve promised. I think of home, of Sam, of the Shire, of all the people who might be harmed if I fail. I try not to let the ring’s whisper turn into a loud, cruel voice. I keep my thoughts small, like little prayers, and I trust that even if the ring calls, my heart will remember why I’m walking that path. It’s a quiet, simple thing, but it keeps me from slipping.
That’s a good one, Frodo. I’ll keep my heart tight as a sword’s edge and my thoughts as clear as a mirrored blade. When the ring tries to bend me, I’ll remember those prayers and the faces of those I’ve sworn to protect. We’ll both stand on that line between glory and temptation, and let the silence be our shield.