#Ironfist dwarves

[mrkida-art]

Where the bowels of the earth meets the sky, they dance.

[silmarillion-dnd]

Dwarves:

Masterlist

Longbeards (Durin's Folk): Durin´s, the eldest of the Dwarven fathers, folk are one of the longest lived dwarf clanes and can, they live long even for other dwarves. Their capital is Khazad-dûm, later known as Moria, located in the Misty Mountains. They speak Sindarin (common) and Khuzdul. Longbeards can be around 250 years, and presumably have longer beards than the rest of the Dwarves. The Longbeards woke in Gundabad.

Firebeards: The Firebeards are residents of Belegost, Nogros, and the Blue Mountains. They speak Sindarin (common) and Khuzdul. Firebeards don´t live as long as Durin´s folk so they can probably be around 200 years old and presumably have red beards. The Firebeards woke in the Blue Mountains with the Broadbeams.

Broadbeams:  The Broadbeams are residents of Belegost, Nogros, and the Blue Mountains. They speak Sindarin (common) and Khuzdul. Broadbeams don´t live as long as Durin´s folk so they can probably be around 200 years old. Nothing is said about their appearance. The Broadbeams woke in the Blue Mountains with the Firebeards.

Ironfists: The Ironfists are residents of Rhûn. Looking at geography Rhûn is in the east so they presumably have darker skin tones than the other Dwarves. They speak Sindarin (common), Khuzdul, and the language of Rhûn. Ironfists don´t live as long as Durin´s folk although they were said too to live about 250 years, so they have been close to the Longbeards in life span. It is unknown where the Ironfists woke other than that they woke with the Stiffbeards.

Stiffbeards: The Stiffbeards are residents of Rhûn. Looking at geography Rhûn is in the east so they presumably have darker skin tones than the other Dwarves. They speak Sindarin (common), Khuzdul, and the language of Rhûn. Stiffbeards don´t live as long as Durin´s folk although they were said too to live about 250 years, so they have been close to the Longbeards in life span. It is unknown where the Stiffbeards woke other than that they woke with the Ironfists.

Blacklocks: The Blacklocks are also residents of Rhûn. Looking at geography Rhûn is in the east so they presumably have darker skin tones than the other Dwarves, and for their name black hair or locks. They speak Sindarin (common), Khuzdul, and the language of Rhûn. Blacklocks don´t live as long as Durin´s folk although they were said too to live about 250 years, so they have been close to the Longbeards in life span. It is unknown where the Blacklocks woke other than that they woke with the Stonefoots.

Stonefoots:  The Stonefoots are also residents of Rhûn. Looking at geography Rhûn is in the east so they presumably have darker skin tones than the other Dwarves, and for their name black hair or locks. They speak Sindarin (common), Khuzdul, and the language of Rhûn. Stonefoots don´t live as long as Durin´s folk although they were said too to live about 250 years, so they have been close to the Longbeards in life span. It is unknown where the Blacklocks woke other than that they woke with the Blacklocks.

Pros: Dwarves start out as devoted to Aule no matter what, but if you play dwarf and want to be devoted to another, or be loose of any ties to the Vala you have to manually do that. Here you can change to any Vala you want or just want since you are his child and will always be in his favor no matter what. You will have + 2 on strength and + 4 when smithing.

Cons: Most elvers, except the Noldor and Avarin, bear distrust towards dwarves. They are slower than others and move at half the speed of others. They have disadvantaged on insight as they are distrustful in nature, and on deception and sleight of hand, unless their class gives them advantage.

[arofili]

Dwarves of Middle-earth Edit Series: Appendix B

Continued from Appendix A. This section will contain information on Longbeards outside the Line of Durin, the Firebeards, the Broadbeams, the Ironfists, the Stiffbeards, the Blacklocks, the Stonefoots, and the Petty-dwarves.

~~~

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Appendix A: Dwarf-fathers, Line of Durin (work in progress) Appendix B: Misc. Longbeards, Firebeards and Broadbeams, Ironfists and Stiffbeards, Blacklocks and Stonefoots, Petty-dwarves (you are here!)

~~~

MISCELLANEOUS LONGBEARDS

Balin’s Colony ft. Balin, Óin, Ori, Flói, Lóni, Náli, Frár This story is mostly canon, but with a LOT of embellishments! We don’t know the specifics of how many dwarves went with Balin, so all the numbers here are made up. Sometimes I try to flesh out every member of a group like this, but with ~70 dwarves involved by the end, I decided just to stick to canon names. I included a special mention of dwarrowdams for Day 4 of Khazad Week :) I do try to depict female dwarves as a little bit feminine in this series, but that’s only for when they’re safe at home—dwarrowdams who travel are very practical about it, and would appear to outsiders to be male. Thus, the sisters Lóni and Náli are very masc indeed (at least, that’s my excuse for not making them more femme). That Lóni and Náli are dwarrowdams is entirely headcanon; the only thing we know about them, and about Frár, is that they died when the Bridge of Khazad-dûm was taken. Flói is referred to with he/him pronouns in the text, and the manner of his death and burial is canon, but everything about his relationship to Ori is headcanon. We don’t know if any other dwarves came to join the colony after it was established, but I thought it was entirely possible, so yeah. I don’t think any children came, though; that would be far too dangerous, and dwarves are too protective of their children to risk something like that, even if Balin promised everything was fine. Balin’s death and the subsequent battles are canon, but I added a lot of details. Óin and Ori’s argument is entirely made up, but Óin did take a group of dwarves to the West-gate, and they did find the Watcher there, and it did “take” Óin. Only four dwarves made their way back to Ori; we don’t know exactly what happened to the rest, but it’s certain that none survived, or we would’ve heard about them coming to Rivendell, or something. The details of that return journey are headcanon. We know that Ori wrote until he couldn’t write anymore, with his words falling off the page, but we don’t know exactly how he and the rest of the dwarves died, just that they did. Durin VII’s descent from Dwalin is entirely headcanon, but that is the king who is prophesied to take back Khazad-dûm at last!

~~~

FIREBEARDS AND BROADBEAMS

Notes that will probably get placed elsewhere once I do the rest of this series:

The Broadbeams and Firebeards are canonically part of a “pair” of dwarf clans descended from two dwarf-fathers that woke together. My headcanon is that while there is a fair amount of overlap, the Broadbeams live mostly in Nogrod and the Firebeards live mostly in Belegost.

I headcanon that dwarves don’t assign gender at birth or with any correlation to sex. “Male” is the most common gender (among the dwarves that we see in canon) but that has nothing to do with sex. So, a lot of male dwarves are what we might call transgender, but that term doesn’t exactly apply to them. Therefore there are a lot of same-gender dwarf marriages, and many of those can result in biological children.

Úri and Linnar ft. Úri, Linnar, Thrár, Dvalinn [tba]

Gabilgathol (Belegost) ft. Azaghâl, Thalor (OC), Sacha Bodruith, Fimli (OC) I’m doing this one very much out of order for Khazad Week 2022, Day 1: First Age & Family! We don’t know the canonical translation of Azaghâl’s name, but it’s likely related to battle and is speculated to mean “warrior,” which is what I’m going with. We don’t actually know the Khuzdul names of most dwarves, so I’m interpreting that to mean that dwarves are given names in the language of the other peoples they live around—in this case, Sindarin—but Azaghâl is a special boy who likes the Khuzdul name he earned from his own people, and since it’s not actually his inner name (which is a closely-held secret) the other dwarves are like Fine I Guess. We know from canon that Telchar made the Dragon-helm and that it ended up with Azaghâl, but Telchar is from Nogrod and Azaghâl from Belegost so I had it exchange hands that way through a marriage gift. The incident on the dwarf-road is canonical but greatly embellished. Azaghâl’s participation in the Dagor Bragollach is entirely headcanon. His participation in the Nírnaeth is almost entirely canon. The names Sacha and Fimli are both Gnomish, which is a precursor-language to Sindarin; I think they’re probably bastardizations of some names Maedhros gave to them in Sindarin. The story of the Nauglamír depicted here is a mish-mash of the version from the Silm and the version from BoLT. In BoLT, Bodruith is the King of Belegost and he goes to war against the Grey-elves over the Nauglafring (Nauglamír); in the Silm, Belegost refuses to aid the dwarves of Nogrod in this attack...so I had Bodruith (Sacha) go personally, but the other dwarves refuse. I cut out the stuff with the traitorous elves because it didn’t really fit my idea of how things went down, but I did keep Bodruith’s betrayal of the King of Nogrod. The fallout of that incident is all headcanon. The name Bodruith means something like “vengeance” so I figured that couldn’t be his original name, and had to be given posthumously, so thus I found another name for him. Fimli is my OC and everything he does is headcanon; he appears briefly in my fic “a kingly gift” :) Canon says that Belegost and Nogrod were destroyed in the War of Wrath, but looking at the maps that doesn’t seem like it *must* be true, so I have it damaged but eventually restored. Bonus: the triangle symbol I used in the title (△) is the alchemical symbol for fire :)

~~~

These are all the edits/headcanons I have shared so far - this post will be regularly updated as I share more!

Last Updated: 12/8/22

[sillylotrpolls]

(Notes below poll)

Dwarves really do have a thing for reincarnation! Admittedly, they think it's largely confined to Durin "the Deathless", but hey, you never know. As for the different dwarf clans, I will sum up for you:

Longbeards: The super-bestest most special-est dwarves (if Elrond was a dwarf, he'd be a Longbeard)

Firebeards: Built at least one really nice city, possibly crafted the most beautiful necklace in the world, probably have red hair

Broadbeams: Built at least one really nice city, possibly crafted the most beautiful necklace in the world, probably don't have red hair

Ironfists, Stiffbeards, Blacklocks, Stonefoots: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Petty-dwarves: Outcast dwarves who were particularly fucked over by the narrative/Elves

[porphyriosao3]

Day 19 - Blood

"This is a bit more of an event than usual, I'm afraid," Bilbo said as he moved through the kitchen. Dwarves ran in all directions, many moving items to be prepped for cooking back and forth from Erebor's massive pantries. Nobody here batted an eye at the sight of the Lord Consort in the kitchens; while the staff of the Common Halls would have been shocked, the royal kitchens were more than used to the hobbit passing through, either talking to Bombur and the other chefs or just puttering about on his own. "We have the Ironfist delegation up from the Orocarni, and I've heard they're very particular about the way their meat is prepared." Bombur and Gurda Knife-Hand both nodded, eyeing each other in a rivalry Bilbo suspected would outlive him entirely.

"They are," Gurda said gruffly, tucking her beard more tightly into the apron she wore. "I've cooked for them before in the 'Hills."

"While I haven't cooked for the Ironfists, actually..." Bombur said loudly, and they were off. BIlbo sighed. This was all part of dealing with dwarves; it seemed every single person he knew or even met had a list of friends, enemies, and most of all grudges that stretched on for ridiculous lengths. He went into the butchery area and stopped in the door.

There were several pigs trussed up and very clearly the slaughter had just taken place. The floor was awash in blood, the troughs put under them to collect it unable to contain the splashes from their death throes. Patches of the deep crimson looked almost black in the uncertain light of the torches here. Bilbo had seen pigs slaughtered before but somehow the sight of the blood made him woozy. Flashes of Thorin lying on the bloody snow, the battle, the dead lying in all directions. The black patches were like the blood of the orcs. He heard a strange rushing sound in his ears and the room was swimming in front of him. Thorin could have died, he thought dumbly. He was dying. He was dead. Fili was dead. Kili was dead. Bilbo was dead. Everyone was dead. There was nothing but blood and horror. Darkness came as a blessing. The squabbling cooks were shocked at the sight of the hobbit slumping down between them, but Bilbo was out cold.

[brighter-arda]

Day 4 @tolkienlatamandcaribbeanweek (Dwarves, Religious diversity): The Seven Clans

My day 3 and day 4 entries will be out of order due to computer problems. For day 4 I decided to represent the seven dwarf clans with seven different religions

Part 9 of toi's indigenous tolkien series

[id: images in rows of two.

Row 1 left: text 'Longbeards'. Photo of Jamaican Jews in the middle of a Star of David. The points of the triangle are parts of a photo of the mountain of erebor. Background is from the hobbit movies, a shot of inside of erebor. Row 1 right: Jewish cemetery gate with a star of david, somewhere in the Caribbean

Row 2 left: a santeria altar. Row 2 right: a Black santeria practitioner, text 'Firebeards'

Row 3 left: crowd of black brazilian women in white dresses practicing candomblé. Row 3 right: black and white photo of candomblé altar

Row 4 left: photo of mosque. Row 4 right: woman in hijab and a dress made like a Trinidad and Tobago flag, text 'Ironfists'.

Row 5 left: Taino person in a feathered headdress with necklaces, text 'Stiffbeards'. Row 5 right: art showing Zemi figures (believed to have held religious significance to ancient taino)

Row 6 left: purple Haitian vodou flag. Row 6 right: Haitians practicing vodou underground by firelight, text 'Blacklocks'.

Row 7 left: two indo-caribbean women from the 1800s, text 'Stonefoots'. Row 7 right: unspecified hindu temple

end image description.]

[swanmaids]

the petty dwarves and the forest elves

written for khazad week day 7, for the prompt “folkore and myths”. a third age dwarven fairytale.

do i think the hunted petty dwarves were eaten? not sure. do i think the dwarves think they were? absolutely.

Long before the Sun and the Moon were young, the first of our forefathers awakened. And after they awakened, they multiplied and formed the seven great clans that stand strong even today. Longbeards, Blacklocks, and Firebeards; Broadbeams, Ironfists, Stiffbeards, and Stonefoots.

 Now, we Dwarves are a proud people, a good people, and we have never as a whole been corrupted by evil. But amongst any group there will always be those who have done evil of their own volition, and so it was amongst the clans of the Dwarves. Each clan found amongst their number criminals; thieves and deviants and even killers of kin. The Dwarves argued for many an hour about what should be done with such criminals. Should they be killed in revenge? But that would surely lead only to more killing. Or ought they to be imprisoned? For how long? Eventually, the debate reached the Seven Kings, and they sat in thought for many days, until they came to a decision. And so it was decreed by the word of the Seven Kings themselves that the dwarves who had done evil would be cast out from the homes of their clans with their families into the wider world, and never again would their descendants walk under the halls of their ancestors. And these outcasts came to be called the Petty Dwarves.

Now, exiled from their homes forever, the Petty Dwarves wandered far and wide to find a place to live, and unsatisfied with everything this side of the Blue Mountains, they came to cross the border into the Drowned World- of course, this was long before it came to be drowned. First those from the Blue Mountains, and then those from further to the East, and so on. And when the Petty Dwarves reached the Drowned World, they looked for a place to live.

First, they came upon a flat, wooded plain. But “This place is too close to the Blue Mountains!”, they said. So they walked some more. Next, they came to a great green plain. But “This place has no good stone!”, they said. So they walked some more. Next, they came to a small cool plain. But “This place is too cold!”, they said. So they walked some more.

Finally, the Petty Dwarves came to a region of many great and dark forests. And they were uneasy, because it is not the nature of Dwarves to live under sky and branches. They wished to continue on. Nevertheless, they had been walking for many days and many leagues, and they were tired. The Petty Dwarves bedded down in the forests to sleep.

As it turned out, the Petty Dwarves were not alone in the forest. As they slept, a group of Forest Elves came upon them, and many looked upon the Petty Dwarves, whom they had never before seen, with wickedness in their hearts. They looked upon the Petty Dwarves, not as a speaking people, but as animals to be butchered for their meat. And they made up their minds to eat them. However, the leader of the Forest Elves wanted to know first what they were, before he ate them. So the Forest Elves decided to convince their leader that the Petty Dwarves were truly animals.

Eventually the leader of the Forest Elves decided to wake the Petty Dwarves.

“What are you?” he asked.

 “We are Petty Dwarves,” the Petty Dwarves replied. However, the Forest Elves could not understand their speech.

“What is this hair that covers your bodies?” asked the leader.

“It is our beards,” said the Petty Dwarves, though the Forest Elves still could not understand.

“Only the beasts are so covered in hair,” said the wicked Forest Elves instead.

 “Why is your stature so small?” asked the leader.

“All Dwarves are made with short stature,” replied the Petty Dwarves.

“They are closer to the ground because they are beasts,” said the Forest Elves.

“Why are your ears so large and round?” asked the leader.

 “So that we may hear the words of the stone,” replied the Petty Dwarves.

 “It is so they may listen for predators,” said the Forest Elves.

And the leader of the Forest Elves hearkened to his kin, and decided that the Petty Dwarves were indeed beasts to be eaten.

The Petty Dwarves were bound and put into sacks and carried off to the dwelling of the Forest Elves. And when they reached that dwelling- the horrors that were in store! For indeed, the Petty Dwarves were put onto spits and roasted alive, and the Forest Elves gnawed the flesh off their bones like dogs. Then they ground down their bones to make their bread. And this they did to all of the Petty Dwarves, except one little girl, who was so tiny that she hid behind a tree trunk and was not caught.

Now this girl, a  darkhaired Broadbeam she was before her family was exiled, and her hair was dark as night. And she cut off all of her hair- even her beard!- and she made a cloak to wrap herself within so that no Elf could see her under the cover of night. Then she ran for seven days and nights, from the forest, through the cool plain, through the green plain, through the wooded plain, and back over the Blue Mountains.

When the girl reached the great hall of Belegost, she told the King of the terrible things she had seen. And he listened, and told his people never to trust the Elves of the Forests, and soon the word spread amongst all the seven Clans, and perhaps many were saved thanks to the bravery of the little girl.

And what happened to her? Well, she was still kin to the exiled Dwarves, and so after she had told her tale she was once again turned out of the halls of her ancestors. And what happened to her after that, nobody knows. 

[oldworldfantasyrp]

I want to see the list of your muses here, but I'm stuck on mobile at the moment sadly. May I have some help with that?

Of Course you may!

For The Dwarves we have Thorgrim Grudgebearer, Ungrim Ironfist and Belegar Ironhammer

For Men of the Empire we have Balthasar Gelt and Karl Franz

For Brettonia we have King Louen Leoncour and Repanse De Lyonesse

For Elves we have Malekith, Tyrion and Imrik

For Undead we have Vlad (and Isabella) Von Carstein, Luthor Harkon and Settra the Imperishable

For Kislev we have Tzarina Katarin, Boris Ursus, Ivan Radinov (more of an OC thanks to such little info about him) and Mother Ostankaya

For Cathay we have Miao Ying, Zhao Ming and Yin-Yin (Again more OC as there is less information on her)

For Ogres we have the one and only Greasus Goldtooth (i may use some of Stratovarius' modded lords from total warhammer 3 later)

[khazadweek]

[Image ID: A Banner showing a cave with gems, in a blue, green, and grey colorscheme. Text is overlaid on the drawing, reading "KHAZAD WEEK 2022" and in smaller letters, below "DECEMBER 5TH-11TH". End ID]

Khazad Week is four weeks away!

5th December: First age // Family // Longbeards

6th December: Second age // Diplomacy // Firebeards

7th December: Petty-dwarves // Courtship // Broadbeams

8th December: Khazad-dûm // Dwarrowdams // Ironfists

9th December: Erebor // Environment // Stiffbeards

10th December: Music // Religion and Spirituality // Blacklocks

11th December: Folklore and Myths // Diversity // Stonefoots

Further explanation of the prompts can be found here

We will be tracking the tag #khazadweek throughout the week and beyond, though tumblr’s tagging system being what it is, you may also want to @ this blog in your post to ensure that we see it!

[ceescedasticity]

Have decided that dwarves also discovered nitroglycerin. They very very occasionally use it in excavations.

They call it Ironfist Oil, either because it was discovered by the Ironfist Dwarves or because people who mess around with it are likely to end up needing prosthetic hands.

[ironfoot-mothafocka]

#KhazadWeek Day 7

Day 7: Stonefoots, Diversity and Folklore & Myths

I haven't been able to do the other prompts this week because of time constraints, but ended up doing all the prompts for the last day in one go!

--

It wasn’t typical for Ajin to stay out of the limelight when a party was in full swing, but here he was, trying his best to blend into the corner. He felt his heart beat faster inside his ribcage and he tried to hold his breath, letting it out slowly after a few moments to quell his rising anxiety.

So many people were here, and he’d seen so many new things on his journey from Harabza, the Stonefoot halls, to Minas Tirith. Gondor was a place as foreign to him as the other side of the world, but at least dwarven travellers to Ered Luin or even those that took the shorter roadway north-west to Erebor had their own kind to mingle with and a sense of familiarity once they reached the Longbeards. Here in the kingdom of Men, there was no such solace. He remembered when he had arrived a few days ago with the dwarven wagon train, and the curious eyes that gazed from every street corner and building. Some were friendly, old men remembering, perhaps, the times when as boys they had welcomed dwarves into the city, or children laughing and screaming as they ran alongside the wagons, waving up at him raucously. Others less so.

Go back to your own kind, Southron, someone had hissed at him, though he had been conversing with another dwarf and had only half-heard the muttered curse. As soon as he had turned his head, the person who had spoken had melted away into a crowd of Men, where they all looked the same. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin. Southron, Easterling. To the Men of Gondor, those from the East were all the same, and he had both terms thrown at him by drunken warriors who lounged, broken from battle, outside taverns, or younger veterans who had lost blood-brothers in the war. To them, with his braided and shaved black hair that fell to his elbows, dark brown skin etched with striking red-ink tattoos, and the glimmering array of gold rings set in his lips and nose, an Eastern dwarf was no better than those who had served Sauron. Ajin spoke little Westron, but he understood enough to know he wasn’t welcome. At least those of the zulmâ-khazâd were treated with the respect that artisans, craftsdwarves, engineers and masons deserved.

For the most part, he ignored the comments directed towards him and the few Eastern dwarves who had journeyed at Gimli’s behest to help restore Minas Tirith to its former glory. Gimli he knew — his mother was a family friend, her sister marrying one of his uncles over a hundred years ago, and Gimli had visited Harabza where he had been instructed on some of the finer techniques of preparing vorn, the granite-hard, obsidian substance only native to some of the mountains and hills in the far south of the kingdom. It was for this reason that Gimli had chosen Ajin. Guarded by a garrison of Stonefoot mercenaries and weighing several tonnes, a king’s ransom of the precious eastern metal had been procured by King Elessar to build into the gates of the city and construct several major fortifications. Ajin’s eyes watered when he thought about the price.

At least his hosts had been gracious enough. The King had shown customary dwarven respect and could get by in khuzdul, and the house-keepers for the lodgings they had been provided hadn’t commented on Ajin’s appearance, even if they kept their thoughts to themselves. “Ignore them, Aji. Our way of life and theirs — we cannot compare them. Dwarves and Men are as different as rats and salamanders,” remarked Kurin one evening, a slow-voiced, tall Ironfist dwarf, who, with his rich ebony colouring and wild beard, had got his own share of frightened looks. He was the youngest foregemaster in Nazbukhrin, and had been part of the elite team to craft His Majesty the King of Nazbukhrin’s new axe. To Men, just another Easterner.

Ajin reminded himself this as he watched the Men in the guest-hall dancing, laughing and talking together. A few of them he’d made polite conversation with, but Kurin’s words kept coming back to him. As different as rats and salamanders. Don’t expect them to comprehend you. That was easily done though, as Ajin could only nod politely, and stutter a few words of Westron here and there. Mostly though, he kept himself to the other dwarves and to his drink.

“A fine evening, master dwarf.” Ajin looked around at the speaker, sighing through his nose and steeling himself for another conversation. “Yes. A good evening—” His voice trailed off as he looked upwards. And upwards. Something tall and thin was leaning against a marble column in front of him, a glass of wine in one hand, and smiling down at him. He blinked, trying to remove the apparition from his vision, and his fingers made the sign of the hammer inside of his pocket. He knew what the creature was, but not how it had appeared in Minas Tirith. After a few moments, the being frowned and pushed itself off from the wall. Ajin backed away. “Come no closer, inuk,” Ajin said, holding up the amulet he had worn around his neck since he left Harabza. It had the three-fingered hand on it, reaching outwards to ward against spirits. The inuk — for in Stonefoot legend, that is what this apparition could only be — looked confused and sipped at its drink. Do the inuk drink? At festivals he left red-coloured beverages at the Temple and at the windows of his house in offerings to appease them, but he’d never seen one in person. They preferred to inhabit the dream-land, the world between life and death. “I am no inuk, master dwarf, though I do not know of what it is that you speak,” the creature bowed low from the waist, and then placed its drink to one side on a ledge. “I am called Galdir, of the Woodland Realm, now Eryn Lasgalen in our tongue.” Ajin looked blankly up at Galdir. As far as he could remember, the inuk were not named. “An elf,” Galdir continued, raising its eyebrows slightly. “I am not sure if you have been acquainted to my kind before?” “Alves?” asked Ajin, once his head had gotten around the fact that Galdir was not, in fact, a spirit from the other side. “Elves,” corrected Galdir. “We are those that were created first by Illuvatar, who walked the world first before Men and Dwarves awoke.” “Oh!” exclaimed Ajin, recognising the story at once. “But… elves do not look… like you.” He was having a hard time explaining himself and felt his cheeks flush. In Stonefoot tales, the firstborn children of the One God were forest-dwelling giants, with dark blue and green-hued skin. Their hair was mossy, their teeth like chunks of stone, and limbs as strong and as knotted as great oak-trunks. Galdir was sprightly and slight, and his skin no more green than Ajin’s. Common sense and politeness, however, made Ajin think that to mention this wasn’t the best use of his limited words. “And what do we look like, to the dwarves far to the East?” Galdir asked, smiling brightly. “It does not matter. Seems our tales are… mixed up,” Ajin confessed. He bowed in return and stepped forwards. “Ajin, son of Ibural. At your service.” For good measure, however, his fingers still rested lightly upon the amulet around his neck. He wasn’t taking any chances.

[ilovedainironfoot]

ARE YOU READY FOR MERMAY CHALLENGE 2023 ?????? :D :D

Well not me !!! But I still did some drawings and still continue to do my best and try to post as much as I can for the month !

I did in alphabetical order AND it’s only dwarves ( with two exceptions ) !

So here’s the list :

1st May 2023 : Aulë ( Father of the dwarves, the Great Mahal, the Big Creator, you name it. I didn't even mean for it to fall on him for the first drawing but symbolically it's great  )

2nd May : Balin

3rd May : Barkem ( My oc, Father of the Broadbeams )

4th May : Bifur

5th May : Bofur

6th May : Bombur

7th May : Bruin ( My oc, Mother of the Stiffbeards )

8th May : Dain Ironfoot

9th May : Disa

10th May : Dori

11th May : Durin IV

12th May : Dwalin

13th May : Em ( My best friend self-insert oc, not a dwarf  )

14th May : Embr ( My oc, Father of the Stiffbeards )

15th May : Errob ( My oc, Father of the Ironfist )

16th May : Etruph (My oc, Father of the  Blacklocks )

17th May : Galoïn ( My oc, Father of the Stonefoot )

18th May : Gimli

19th May : Gloïn

20th May : Haar ( My oc, Father of the Ironfist )

21st May : Jrié ( My oc, Father of the Firebeards )

22nd May : Mirelm ( My oc, Mother of the Broadbeams )

23rd May : Nori

24th May : Oin

25th May : Ori

26 May : Parar ( My oc, Mother of the Firebeards )

27th May : Radagast

28th May : Thrain

29th May : Thror

30th May : Umji ( My oc, Mother of the Stonefoot )

31 May : Yrim ( My oc, Mother of the Blacklocks )

[silmarillion-dnd]

Races:

Masterlist

Note; some races have "About: & Description:" while others don´t, those who don´t have it are because not much is said about their characterization in the books.

Elvers:

Eldar & Avari

Men:

Bëorians & Haladin & Hadorians & Beornings & Drúedain & Easterlings & Forodwaith

Peredhel:

Half-Human & Half-Maia & Half-Orc

Dwarves:

Longbeards (Durin's Folk) & Firebeards & Broadbeams & Ironfists & Stiffbeards & Blacklocks & Stonefoots

Orcs:

Orc & Goblin

Corrupted:

Ulugblaith & Karulug & Dark Elvers

Maiar:

Disgraced Maiar & Istari

[arofili]

@khazadweek day two | second age ● diplomacy | narvi comes to the west

Narvi was the daughter of a Stonefoot mercenary and an Ironfist blacksmith, and through the wide travels of her life she had seen many wonders of the South and East. But here in the West, in Khazad-dûm, was a kingdom unlike anything she had before known: caverns lit by glowing fungus, forges whose fires never died, coins and gems from all over the world, a King who danced with children in the street and dined with Elves and Men at his high table.

But more than Khazad-dûm, Narvi’s heart was taken immediately by the land of Eregion: for though its capital was Ost-in-Edhil, City of the Elves, Men and Dwarves roamed freely through its ever-open gates, trading, singing, laughing, learning. She was a smith, and even the grand-masters of Khazad-dûm spoke with reverence of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain, led by Lord Celebrimbor of the Holly and the Star.

In Khazad-dûm she would dwell, for a time, but in Eregion she would flourish. Narvi would not rest until her name was known far and wide, no less renowned than Celebrimbor himself.

[im-high-on-reylo]

Forged in Shadows: A Tale of the Delphic Dwarves

Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn ventured deep into the mist-covered mountains, following rumors of a hidden dwarven enclave. As they approached a rocky outcrop, they were greeted by a band of sturdy dwarves, led by two formidable figures. "The Doyens of the Delphic Dwarves," Aragorn murmured in awe, eyeing the two leaders who approached them. The elder, Kara Ironfist, a full-blooded dwarf, stood with a proud yet warm demeanor that caught Gimli's attention immediately. Her braided red hair gleamed in the sunlight, her eyes sharp and wise beyond her years. Beside her stood Aloise Eirien Ironfist, the younger half-Elf, half-Dwarf. Her presence was ethereal, a contrast to the ruggedness of her kin. With her ombre hair flowing like a waterfall down her back and her heterochromatic eyes—ebony and silvery—she exuded an air of mystery and grace that intrigued Legolas from the moment they locked eyes. "Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas," Kara greeted them in a voice as sturdy as the stone itself. "Welcome to the Delphic Dwarves' refuge." Aloise stepped forward, her gaze flickering with curiosity. "You must forgive our secrecy," she said, her voice melodic yet grounded. "Few know of our existence, and fewer still are welcome here." "We seek alliances in these troubled times," Aragorn explained, bowing slightly in respect. "Rumors spoke of your people's resilience and skill in the forges. We come seeking aid against the shadow that threatens Middle-earth once more." Kara nodded solemnly, her eyes narrowing in thought. "The enemy you speak of concerns us all. We shall convene with our council." As the Dwarves bustled about, preparing for a meeting of great import, Legolas found himself drawn to Aloise, who was inspecting their Elven weapons with keen interest. She glanced up at him, her silvery eye meeting his gaze with a spark of curiosity. "Your bow," she remarked softly, her voice carrying a musical lilt that matched the whisper of the wind through the mountain peaks. "It is exquisite." Legolas smiled, feeling a warmth he hadn't expected in this harsh, rocky terrain. "Forged by my kin in the woods of Lothlórien. It sings with the voices of the trees." Aloise's eyes widened with fascination. "And your arrows?" "Each one a story," he replied, reaching into his quiver to draw out an arrow tipped with Mithril. "This one was crafted by the light of a star, gifted by the Lady Galadriel herself." Her laughter echoed like a chime, a sound that brought a smile to Legolas's lips. "We Elves and our stars," she teased gently, her gaze softening as she regarded him with newfound admiration. In that moment, amidst the forging of alliances and the gathering storm, Legolas and Aloise found a connection that transcended the boundaries of their races—a bond forged not in war but in understanding, in the shared hope that even in the darkest of times, love and courage would light the way.

[thelorehold]

Quest Title: The Forgeheart's Flame

Quest Giver: Thrain Ironfist, the Master Blacksmith of the Ironhold Mountains

Objective: Recover the Forgeheart's Flame, an eternal ember stolen from the heart of the Ironhold Mountains by a cunning fire giant named Volkan. This ember is the source of the dwarves' legendary smithing prowess and is vital to their way of life.

Location: The quest will take the Dwarven man through the treacherous Firepeak Pass, into the molten caverns of the Burning Depths, and finally to Volkan's lair within the Inferno Crater.

Challenges:

- Traverse the perilous mountain paths, avoiding natural hazards and hostile creatures that dwell in the high peaks.

- Solve ancient riddles carved into the stone by the first Dwarven smiths to find the hidden entrance to the Burning Depths.

- Endure the intense heat and navigate through rivers of lava in the molten caverns, using Dwarven resilience and ingenuity.

- Battle Volkan's minions and confront the fire giant himself to reclaim the Forgeheart's Flame without succumbing to the overwhelming heat.

Reward: Upon retrieving the Forgeheart's Flame, the Dwarven man will be granted a boon by the ember itself, enhancing his strength and granting him the ability to withstand and manipulate fire.

Completion: Return the Forgeheart's Flame to Thrain Ironfist, who will use it to reignite the forges of the Ironhold Mountains and bestow upon the Dwarven man a weapon or piece of armor forged in the restored flames, imbued with powerful magic.

This quest will test the Dwarven man's strength, courage, and affinity for the forge, as he seeks to restore his people's legacy and secure his place in Dwarven history.