There are 546 citizens of the United Fiefdom of Rogsylvania. As Rogsylvania is a direct democracy, all citizens sit in the Diet. Formerly, slaves and snacks were not counted in censuses. This has changed owing to the adoption of modern business methods, which require an accounting for all resources. There are about 7.8 million slaves in Rogsylvania, and 12 million snacks. The situation is complicated by the fact that some inhabitants belong to both categories.
Rogsylvania has a remarkable diversity of inhabitants. The largest class is Orcs, followed by Trolls. There are also a decent number of dragons, basilisks, salamnders, and other "monsters," to use the bigoted human term. To get a true picture of how well we treat our Orcs, read this interview.
In the beginning, they say, the world was a pez. Then the Balrogs came from outside Arda, and burned it, and smashed it, and did highly artistic things to it, until other Ainur came and mucked most of it up. This was the age of flamewars, which wrought both aesthetically pleasing ruin and rather unaesthetic deterioration in the appearance of the lands where Ruggles mostly dwell. Fortunately, we managed to keep a fair part of it in decent aesthetic condition. (Some wussy incarnates whinge that balrogs have an unfair advantage in flamewars. As if it were our fault that so few people know how to do them right! We don't call it unfair. Waterwars, on the other hand, are a violation of balrog rights. No water allowed!)
There were formerly several balrog fiefdoms in what is now Rogsylvania. After these fiefdoms had decided to form a closer union, a smurvacco-smoking contest was once used to choose the overlord. (Smurvacco is a distillation of finely ground smurrow, which Balrogs often smoke in pipes.) Through mysterious spells involving the charred remains of Oncle André, the Counts-Palatinate of Balróggy enjoyed a winning-streak, until the Landgraf of Tildanorška discovered the truth by seducing the Count-Palatine’s favourite troll-odalisque, Deeanna. The resultant discord was resolved when Count Charming of Balróggy married Countess Roggerella of Tildanorška for love of her footwear, even though she was disguised as a common and garden porn-orquette. A more civilised and indulgent morality was in vogue by then; the earliest rulers were so strict that one of them even banned that kinky yet pleasurable practice, playing with electrical pipes in one's bath. Sure, it’s a little perv; but what’s the harm?
The Morambar War over the leis of Trolkien was a pivotal event that led to the flattening of Humidor and the banning of loud Hawaiian clothing in Rogsylvania.
The War with the Pizzas led to Dinner, which in turn led to a blossoming of Balrog civilisation in the Great Sauce Project. A contemporary Humidorian chronicler estimated that Balrogs caused 52% of all natural catastrophes.
Oncle André, a renegade Pezopolitan with bad taste in hairdos, tried to take over Roggytopia with brandy. He was punished by being turned into a flavour of lava, though some of his leftovers were used to add a bit of spite to some aromatic forms of smurvacco. His brandy-addled slogan, Ouomphle Chomphe y Pomphe, has been adopted as our motto. It is said to mean, “It is time to heat things up.” Who can argue with that? Another frequent translation, however, is “yo d00dz im kewl,” of which FE#$#RWETYWE$$T RE! is the usual Classical Balrog equivalent. It has lots of hmunsa letters in it because that's the closest we can get to such drivel.
Famous personages in Rogsylvanian history include Jolly Rogger, the merry, bloodgin-guzzling, smurvacco-spewing space pirate, and Roggo Polo, who discovered stuff and wrote about it. His descriptions of usenet discussions were so outlandish that many thought he made them up. %#A$%#^&4 ^#$, the Moria balrog, is one of our legendary heroes; he slew the notoriously tasteless wizard, G&**nd%&&&&&lph, for interrupting his morhing coffee.
Rogsylvania has a wide range of beautiful handicrafts. While the highest of the fine arts, pyroaesthetics, does not lend itself to easy transport, there are several other crafts, many practiced by slaves, that will appeal to the discerning traveller.
For example, there are several kinds of mortal bone products available. The most famous of these are the carved pipes and hookahs; Bloodigor is known for ts umbrellas. There are some 4,812.76 blends of smurvacco, a finely ground smurf product used for smoking. Bloodwine also encompasses an enormous variety; and it is hotly debated among bloodwine aficionados, as to whether wine is best when served in its source’s leather, or with a completely different hmunsa-leather.
Slippers are of great symbolic importance in Rogsylvania, and exhibit a stunning variety of fabrics (from congealed petroleum to mortal scalp), colors, and shapes (the Count-Palatine’s slippers, for example, strongly resemble the great pyramid of #$$%^&&*&() – whether by chance or design).
Hmunsahosen are only the most famous of a wide range of hmunsa-leather products; our briefcases are to die for.
And speaking of clothing: Try on our (literally) blinding black and red formal wear. And there are also sackcloth and ashes, though we prefer to eat those.
Lladró figurines of spiders, Balrogs, Orcs, and other Mordor species, dressed in picturesque native garb, are a must-buy. Literally; for tourists are required by law to buy this expensive crud art.
Gasoline pumps occur in several forms and styles, of which neoclassical is the one currently most in vogue.
Rogsylvanian weapons may be somewhat fatal to ruggles, but are a delight to the connoisseur. Firewhips come in several styles: did-too-did-knouts, flame-of-nine-tails (pricy), etc. Other weapons include jam tarts (for use against jellyfish) and Morgoth Element Rifles (MERs). These are also lovely cloisonné implements of torture.
Rings of Power are rather rare even in Rogsylvania, since only citizens have either the right or the talent to make them. Consequently, they are not cheap; but the serious connoisseur thinks nothing of a soul or two. Abilities conferred by these rings range from seducing maidens to giving their owners the Orange Touch that turns everything into Sunny Delight™.
Balrog books may also be somewhat dangerous, particularly "special books," which may gobble you up or burn you or curse you or devour your soul. A popular bookstore is Burnes and Napalm, which also have cafés where you can sip lava. (Some old-style balrogs find Burnes and Napalm a trifle vulgar.)
Rogsylvania affords delightful sightseeing possibilities, in addition to those mentioned under “Regions of Rogsylvania”. For example, the best way to travel on Roggenberg's lava canals is by cargo boat pulled by slaves; a cruise in the grandest Rogsylvanian style is not to be missed.
If depravity is your bliss, you may find the Schelobschloß, a castle on the outskirts of Roggenberg, built in the most charming Frankenstein-Gothic style, to be more to your liking. Balrog mating rituals, unlike those of the ancient Eldar, do NOT consist in standing around for 220 years holding hands. A discriminating traveller said of the Schelobschloß:
An eeresome Castle, bedight with Halloweenery and enshrouded in bright tang-coloured orange, lowers before your awe-stricken gaze. You behold on its steps many a jack-o-lantern, within which flickers a deadly sheen, a corpse-light, a light that illuminates nothing -- just like Times Square. Resplendent with neon lights is the castle, and bedight with a thousand posters such as simply would not be allowed in the Shire. This is the most fashionable district east of Mt.Mochalawa. Most enticing of all is the entrance, with its incandescent jack-o-lanterns and plastic ghosts and skeletons in various positions; an enormous rubber spider hangs from one of the towers. Once you are inside, the Balrog Grisettes pitilessly expose their loveliness to your gaze. And then, the coming threat is at last unveiled. For Schelob, when she appears, is even hotter than her posters had depicted her. The glow of the aromatic candles is broken by the thousands of facets of her bosoms. Monstrous and lasciviously half-closed eyes she has, but guided by a goal and a dread purpose, and they gloat over their prey that sits helpless with lust. It is a perfect house of pleasure, whether you like kinky sex, spiders, being burnt alive, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Merely to be there is a cure from weariness, sadness, or sexual starvation.
For some lighter entertainment, try the Museum of Mortal Idiocy. We rogs have a habit of going there on weekends to read hmunsa scientific journals and laugh loudly among ourselves.
The Flaming Pagoda, which floats in the air above Rogsylvania, may land anywhere when least expected. This whimsical wonder gives even the most blasé tourists quite a thrill! And the artworks inside are equally astonishing.
Dehydrating jellyrogs and breeding jellyswine (pigs altered with jellyfish genes so that they glow in the dark) for world conquest are other common Rogsylvanian amusements. Tourists are advised that pillaging and burning is best left to native Rogsylvanians.
Rogsylvanian music is the pride of our nation, and fills our souls with longing for the homeland; but it might be slightly dangerous for ruggles. When we mark our compositions “con fuoco," we mean it.
Other common musical directions include 'Allegretto - Morto con fuoco', "uccidendo" ("killing", as in "Killing me softly with his song", only not so softly). And then there are musical symbols for when the mlorat is supposed to scream -- it's very complex, of course.
Rogs often sing a capella, or with asbestos instruments. They create many of the musical effects inside their own bodies: a balrog’s voice box makes a synthesizer look like a kazoo, and sound like one too.
The most celebrated Rogsylvanian singer was Count Tildanor, described by a celebrated critic as "part a capella troubadour (baritone), part wandering monster". Another noted singer is Roggiero Roggoballo, winner of an award at the Fredovision Song Contest. There is also lots of balrog poetry.