#Stonesense

[dwarvendiaries]

Glazednourishes a surface fortress in isometric viewer.

[habbadax]

The Great Barony of Rigothdeler

I wanted to put it in its own post.

-=+=-

It has had a lot of problems. And only very recently has it become a stable fortress with functional industry and a lovely motte and bailey. I'm quite proud of it.

-=+=-

Rigothdeler's story starts right here:

This is the beating heart of Rigothdeler. A tetrahedrite mine.

And this is where everything started, and almost ended a few times. Initial surveys claimed there was no aquifer. There is an aquifer. And it is a heavy aquifer.

There were a lot of attempts and experiments. I learned the rough way just how heavy the aquifer is.

I don't actually remember how so many fucken dorfs died in that big hole. The only ones I remember were the ones that fell in during The Great Remodeling. Which took place after the tunnel was finally complete.

Luckily, it's a shallow aquifer. So once all the engineering was finally done, the original plan could finally proceed:

We would mine.

Eight levels down, phyllite is quarried out in massive amounts to be turned into blocks. And the tetrahedrite is hauled up to the smelters to be turned into copper and silver.

Originally, the plan was to mine iron. Unfortunately, no iron was found at the site. I actually ditched the save for a while after that revelation. Which led to the creation of the other fort I spent my time with. Which I'll post about later.

But Rigothdeler compelled me. Especially now that we had stone.

With stone came comfort. And with silver came wealth. Rigothdeler is still fed mainly by caravans, because I've been too busy building to set up proper agriculture

More focused pictures from around the fort, in no particular order:

^Workers pry up the boards for the old bridge. Soon, it will be converted to a stone structure.^

^The barracks and armory for the militia. With controls for the outer gates, and the stairway leading up to the north tower.

The water wheels are all that's left of the old drainage aqueduct. Water used to be pumped out into the drainage canals. Later, I decided an aquifer would be a good way to power some millstones. Keen eyed viewers may notice that this idea has yet to come to fruition,

The Snack of boots sits mostly empty. Most Dorfs are busy with construction, and gathering the latest lumber harvest.^

^The inner courtyard. Archery targets are lined up by the South wall. Unsorted trade goods sit in the depot. Inside, the hospital is left cluttered after the last of the wounded are finally treated.^

^Wood from the surrounding forest is hauled in, and then sorted.^

^The sally gate sits shut in the outer courtyard. And the first visitors have begun to arrive at the newly constructed tavern, The Cook of Diamonds.^

^Children run amok in the dormitory^

^In the temple of The Waxy Flax, Sakzul Fathurol, commander of the Whips of Genius, meditates on metals.^

^In the Crystalline Cathedral next door, her subordinates Mistem, Udil, and Meng worship their god. While a small swarm of children climb all over the temple furniture^

^The hospital well. Possibly the dumbest part of the fortress. It's one of my favorite parts.^

^Carpenter's shops turn out fine furniture in walnut and chestnut. While peach and apple make up the majority of charcoal production.^

^The tops of the stone towers dotting the walls. Originally, the westernmost tower was a simple wood watchtower. It was converted to stone when the walls went up.^

^Should the sally gate ever be opened, archers will be posted in this tower, to shoot invaders through the grates as they come up the ramp below.^

^At the North and South ends of the palisade, there are squat, simple gatehouses, with a small watchtower. And the controls for wooden gates.^

^This is where we put all the dead guys. Which there have been a lot of since the weremammoth issue.^

That's all, for now!

-=+=-

[dovahvhenan]

anyway. another theory. Dwarven Stonesense is an actual real thing that is about their specific type of magic, but they were disconnected from it for so long that the word kinda lost its meaning/origins. Sandal was the first instance of it coming back (that we know of), and now Harding too! I think the continued weakening of the Veil is allowing the Dwarves to reconnect with their unique magic again!

[exhausted-archivist]

I hope your recovery is a smooth one!

Since you've mentioned that you're working on a dwarven lore masterpost, what is your favorite part of dwarven lore so far? And what is the thing you most hope gets explored in Veilguard for them?

Thank you!

Favorite dwarven lore is also by far the most frustrating for me. It is from the tabletop, but from what we can tell with the descent dlce it is carried through there. It is the depth of the Deep Roads and the fact that they are so cold you'll freeze and is why they use lava to heat and light the roads and thaigs.

It is my favorite because it is fascinating, frustrating because it is breaking some rules without really explaining why/how it works. So it is definitely something I hope is explored a little more.

Generally speaking, the deeper you go into the earth the more stable the temperature. There are a ton of factors that dictate the temperature of the cave/are you're in but generally from my research it is warm. And we know that Thedas does have geothermal activity, they built the older thaigs in magma chambers after all and there is a ton of volcanic areas in Thedas. So, I'm curious as to why its cold.

This folds into something that is more specific to dwarves themselves and not just their enviroment. One of my favorite things, that you only see in written lore and not in-game is the dwarven resistance to lyrium. Due to their proximity to it and constantly being around it while underground, they have a resistance. It is why they can safely mine it, yes? But they lose that resistance the longer they are on the surface. The game doesn't reflect this too much as you don't have non-dwarves dropping sick when too close to raw lyrium and mages aren't just getting sick when at a certain distance of processed lyrium and straight up dying when near the raw stuff (cause that isn't fun, casual game play.)

But we also see surface dwarves mining lyrium, both the red and blue stuff all willy nilly. Not all carta dwarves are underground dwarves. And we know there are lyrium mines in Tevinter, the Anderfels, and other areas away from Orzammar. Which implies that surface dwarves are doing the mining and transporting. Now, this can easily be explained that they're recently surfaced or they were miners/casteless that went to the surface and immediately joined the carta elsewhere. But, I really hope that this is explored/explained more in the future because if dwarves can regain the lyrium resistance that fades within their lifetime on the surface, that is huge and opens up the question of: What is the Stonesense, since if it connected to the Titans, why isn't it recoverable like lyrium resistance which is literally of the Titans. It is their blood. What is the difference, there has been suggestion that the Stone and Titans are two different entities, with Titans being the children of the Stone themselves and dwarves the children of Titans.

Big implications and big fun stories abound.

[sugoiney-weaver]

I'm facing FPS death with Blizzardpaddles after about 15 or 16 years. This is definitely the best fort I've done. A healthy economy, very low unhappiness rate, shittons of cool animals (cougars, pandas, grizzlies, black bears, wolves, wombats, coyotes, and more)

I have a huge library, tons of amazing temples, 256 bedrooms that all feel like "a personal palace," a museum, stonework and masterpiece engravings everywhere, over 1000 statues...

I wish that stonesense didnt always crash the game because I built up and want to show it off in 3d. It's pretty much always raining or snowing year-round so I wanted some shelter. I have a public tavern 2 layers above the entrance to the fort, and I want to build a copper pyramid on top. I have archer towers (never used them lol) and flying buttresses, two rings of walls, and roads going to the areas that merchants and migrants tend to show up at.

Maybe I'll make a post of annotated screenshots to show off. I've been honing my fort layout for a long time now and I have it pretty freaking efficient.

[kobblefort]

Rushsly: Into the Depths 1

Sorry for no updates yesterday; I spent the entire day making food, watching longform YouTube videos, and working on some other artistic outlets. In the interest of maintaining my anonymity until at least the end of this project and possibly indefinitely after that, I won't be sharing them (well, I can't send home-cooked food over the internet anyway - yet! Get on that shit, techbros!) but you'll be relieved to know they turned out well. I'm only just now sitting down at the computer this evening after a day that mostly tanked due to me starting to feel under the weather, but I think I know the cure - and obviously, it's the single greatest simulation game of all time, Dwarf Fortress.

There's no better way to start off a session than crashing the game, so I decide to make a nice and agonizingly slow "quick"save and throw Rushsly into Stonesense, the isometric-3D fortress visualizer which is notoriously stable when used with the Steam release and mods. Well actually it was working fine before I tried to maximize the window, then it crashed. I could find some way to blame the program for that, but I've been reading "The Inner Game of Tennis" lately, and though I'm not very far into it, I get the gist that I probably shouldn't, but also I shouldn't blame myself either? When I say not very far, I mean literally 4 or 5 pages. Are you even allowed to say you're "reading" a book when you've barely made it past the foreword and preface? Fine. I'm browsing The Inner Game of Tennis, and I'll consider myself reading it in 20 or 30 pages. Anyway, the fort looks pretty unassuming from the top, besides that "chimney" which is not actually there, but I can't get anyone up there to destroy the "downward staircase" tile without creating another "downward staircase" tile, which I'd need to get someone up there to destroy on and on over and over forever for the rest of my life. It doesn't have an "upward staircase" tile below it so it's purely a cosmetic blemish. Clear glass tiles also look very funny in Stonesense.

The furnace floor, where I already had to alter the stockpile by a single tile so I could put down a floor tile to stop the growth of a young tower-cap. I fucking hate floor fungus!!

The catacombs really do look a bit shit from this angle sorry kobbles. The little magma pockets do look cool though.

The (secondary now, I guess?) production floor is such a fucking mess and I hate it but I'm never going to do anything about it.

The tavern and chief's chambers look pretty cool though! I like that the dogs get sprites but my kobbles are just the letter "k." I feel bad for the people in the bedroom below who have a clear glass ceiling. Imagine trying to sleep and a bunch of motherfuckers are dancing above you and you can not only hear but see it the whole time. What a life!

And the only other floor of any visual interest is the barracks+hospital+dungeon floor. I like that stonesense makes the wells into faucets. Kobbles got plumbing lol

It always hurts to give a miner a different job, since I like it when the mining gets done fast, but since he wasn't particularly great at it anyway: Zhag, the miner who did not give a single shit about breaching the caverns, has been transferred to the military right around the time that a couple years of constant training starts really paying off for On Speechlessmonstrous and Zomrca Lulledjackals. In fact, it's sparring with one another that brought on this "level-up."

Two girls, both keenly aware of their bodies and the way they move, pushing each other to greater and greater heights of martial prowess. I don't care who you are, that's yuri. And also they're drunk. But kobbles, like dwarves, are basically always drunk. There was a time when I'd be like "Same! That's so me, lol!!" but it's long been over. I don't actually miss alcohol, I just miss the way alcohol used to feel, the effect it used to have on me. For the last little while, whenever I finally gave in to the temptation to knock some shots back every 2 or 3 weeks I would just suddenly jump-cut straight to the next day, waking up with literally all my clothes on including my goddamn socks like a fucking bastard feeling absolutely miserable in every physical sense and terrified that I had fucking humiliated myself and made lifelong enemies in the 25 Discord conversations I didn't remember starting. Now if I try to drink at all my body just says "no, fuck you. Go to bed" and all I can bring myself to do is lay down and get five to seven hours of miserably low-quality sleep - while still lucid enough to take my socks off, thank fucking god. I can't complain, really. The time from my early 20s when drinking made everything beautiful and everyone into my friend has long been over. If I never wake up in a stranger's bed or literally drooping halfway off the couch of their back porch again it'll still be too soon. But it's fine for kobbles to drink I guess. They were literally programmed to do it

At only 136 steel bars, it feels a bit too early to be getting the kobbles into steel armor, but new weapons and shields should do them well - provided they're not all too attached to their current gear. The dream is, eventually, adamantine, but to tell the truth I've never actually gotten that far in a fort. They either died in a horrible violent tragedy or from the miserable slowness of FPS death far before we could chance upon any Hidden Fun Stuff. To be completely honest, despite making a few attempts as early as early as 2009, even installing it on the computers at my high school and getting away with playing it all through study hall because nothing that looks like that could possibly actually be a game, I really never figured the game out or had any real success. I just didn't have the patience to either learn to read the ASCII or manually check every tile every time I wanted to know what anything was. This was back when carp were serious threats and rhesus macaque invasions were commonplace - the Brazil era, as I've literally just now decided to dub it - but half the things I take for granted really weren't even in the game yet. Also, on those same high school computers I managed to install Cave Story, and I got all the way to Hell before getting hopelessly stuck, which is what happens to me basically every time I play Cave Story, though I did manage to beat Hell & Ballos just once as a kid. I like to joke that my soul is stuck in Cave Story Hell forever until I finally beat it one more time, but sometimes I get scared it's not a joke. One time my friends came over while they were tripping on acid, and I was stoned and playing PaRappa the Rapper, and they were watching with so much delight but then I got to the bathroom level and just couldn't fucking do it, failing attempt after attempt, and one of those same friends professed to me years later that he feels like part of his soul is still trapped in the PaRappa the Rapper bathroom level, instead of experiencing the catharsis of the big concert finale level. The other friend from that time is no longer my friend because he burned down his fucking house with a turtle and several dogs and cats inside. All the dogs and most of the cats escaped but the turtle did not and since then he has been in permanent rehab because every time he almost finishes up at a halfway house he decides "you know what, I should take mushrooms right now. I should get so high on cough medicine that I can't even pretend to function for 5 minutes. While I'm in this fucking halfway house that I could be free from if I just waited one or two more weeks to take these mushrooms or cough medicine." I mean I can't really begrudge him the drugs but, well, actually I think I can. I can begrudge anyone for anything if I want. He also had a pad on the floor where his dogs could shit instead of just taking them out, I mean that's not just on him that's on his whole family being fucked up. Basically just fuck that guy

We'll be breaching the first cavern layer in earnest soon. I'm not quite sure what I actually want to do down there - fungiwood and tower-cap don't actually interest me, considering how much wood we have on the surface, and farming has been going so well that we don't really need anything edible from down here, either. Maybe I just want to stir the pot. Maybe I just want conflict. You know there's a reason why people who play this game say "losing is fun" and it's beca

Oh Fuck Oh Shit No No No Oh Shit Get The Fuck Out Of There Everybody Get The Fuck Inside Right Now Oh Fuck Oh Fuck Oh Fuck Oh My God Please No ... errr .......

Everyone has more than enough time to get inside safely, because... it's a fucking giant tortoise. In the time it takes for everyone who was topside to get safely into the base, the weretortoise has... not moved a single tile.

The moat bridge is retracted, marksmen are poised and (hopefully) ready to fire, but uhh... I don't want to say I overreacted, but I may in fact have overreacted.

Its kill record is not impressive, either. I'm more impressed by the names of some of these places it's been. "Grayhatchet" is actually pretty cool. "Questsloshed" that one sounds kind of horny... "Womansoak" That's what they call me when I walk up in the fucking club LOL !!!!!!!! Sorry. I'm going to be normal again.

The were-tortoise reverts back to a lobster (yes I have the mod that adds crustacean civilizations installed on this world) and skitters away off the map and far from my mind. Honestly, he might be more intimidating in this form. However strong the were-tortoise form might be, it's not exactly effective. Another thing I learned is that the statue "radar" does not actually tell you where or which statue was toppled, it literally just says that one was. If I wanted to put in a bunch of effort, I could set up a system where I have statues of one material put on the west, another material on the east, other materials north and south, maybe even go 8-directional with it, but I kind of don't care. The reason that people who play a lot of Dwarf Fortress say that "losing is fun" has two reasons. First of all, there is no real "winning" in Dwarf Fortress - you can become the new Mountainhome of your civilization, sure, but that's more of "the best game state you can attain" than a victory. It ultimately just comes with more challenges: an entourage of picky, problem-causing nobles and a king/queen/gender-unspecific-position-of-royalty/whatever else show up to make demands, and it's not like you export a certain amount of wealth and roll the credits or something. The second is that, since you cannot win, getting your fortress to be perfect, infallible, and autonomous only actually serves to make the game boring. Losing is not just a learning experience as far as the actual mechanical game goes, but an exciting event that changes the story and landscape of your world. After this fort inevitably goes down in flames I am going to keep playing in this world and Rushsly will be not just a memory in my mind but something that existed and changed the culture and history of The Land of Nails, the biggest continent in The Dimensions of Portent. (Kind of a lame name though. Why don't you portend to go fuck yourself, lol. Not you the reader, just a general unspecified "you".)

There's motherfucking gold in them there hills, tons of gems too. I'm prone to ignore stuff like silver and cassiterite because it's not that valuable and more important not that interesting to me, but I can absolutely be tempted by the glint of gold, and much like Sonic Adventure 2's breakout MILF Rouge the Bat I always love a good gem. If you don't think she's a milf you're looking at the wrong pictures - the wiki is wrong, the writers and designers of the games are wrong, she is a 43 yr old cougar. And me well I just want to be the pudgy twink 10+ years younger than her that she is just ever so slightly emotionally abusive towards, not in the traumatizing way just the sexy way. Like "the hurting your feelings but then you also get aroused from it and afterwards she's like yeah you know i didn't actually mean it" way.

Fucking kitchen full of fucking miasma

Just USE THE BARRELS YOU FUCKING BASTARDS

Like why do they do this

With nothing but perfect timing, a metalcrafter falls into a strange mood that makes him cry out for:

-metal bars (He's already taken a platinum one)

-logs (We have plenty all over the fucking place but he won't grab any)

-silk cloth (We have 100s of these too, he won't take any)

-bones (which means we have to slaughter an animal in the same disgusting butcher room with the miasma and all the meat already just sitting on the floor.)

Zylr has made an enemy out of me but I am honor-bound to help his bitch ass create a masterpiece so fuck it.

He takes the bones and... just keeps bitching. I don't know. Does he just want more bones? Because I'm not going to be heartbroken over killing another horse. Fuck it. I'll gladly kill another horse. I hate horses and want them to not exist.

And yes, he did literally just want more bones.

And downstairs, they finally started putting things in barrels. Not before letting our food & meat stocks drop by literally hundreds of items, but I guess a win is a win. kind of. Not really a complete win yet either there's still very much some shit on the floor. Fuck it I'll just make them throw it out too. What were you really going to do with horse nervous tissue, like be honest. As usual I had to run cleanowned in dfhack like 5 times to make the kobbles actually start taking out the garbage but they did it. (I know the military backpack glitch but I don't understand how meals got claimed as owned without even making it out of the kitchen (I don't feel like explaining the military backpack glitch right now but I can later if someone asks me to (We're kind of losing the fucking plot here though (and suddenly I care about that))))

Zylr had the good sense to offer this to me instead of keeping it as a personal treasure, and I mean, 20k value ain't bad. Most interestingly is the chain either has an image of itself on it, or is making a reference to another platinum chain that exists somewhere. It would be really funny to just put it in the dungeon and tie criminals to it, but it feels weirdly appropriate to put it in one of the churches, so I'm going to do that instead.

AMBUSH TIME!!!!

The fucking pricks are going after our bird towers. It's so personal now.

Their necromancer doesn't even make it past the first row of traps.

A boar that their necromancer resurrected literally kicks one of them to death. I don't think these guys are very good at this.

With their... leader(??) and three of their most fearless caged, and one of their least lucky shredded into fucking bits, the stragglers just awkwardly wander off the map to go hide. They didn't even make it past the third row of traps on the very first level.

They also did not even make a dent in our bird numbers, despite them being the only targets they were able to even take shots at. Though this does serve to prove we need to reinforce the Bird Towers to prevent unnecessary loss of bird life, that's literally all it proved. They will one day be back with more, they may come back with the idea of maybe not walking straight into the trap hallway, but for now they are idiots who barely managed to kill a single goose.

Unfortunately, speaking of idiots, our marksbold squad was deployed up to the fortifications above the trade depot, and despite getting a clear shot on one of them, fucking did nothing because the ones with bows keep picking up bolts and the ones with crossbows keep picking up arrows. Since different types of ammo is a mod thing, there's no actual option to force them to use one or the other, I guess our best bet is to just dispose of all the bows and arrows and force everyone to use only crossbows. I don't feel like doing that right now though and I've also hit the 30 image limit again so you'll just have to find out whether that even works or not on the next exciting episode of Rushsly. I probably should have ended it on a cliffhanger but I think it's funnier if the thing you have to look forward to is just me cleaning out some traps, figuring out to do with some prisoners, and trying to fix a military logistics problem. This ain't that new-fangled Witch from Saturn Ion gundam show this is the classic 1979 gundam. WHO WILL SURVIVE?

[ironfoot-mothafocka]

The earth wakes

Celebrimbor discovers that the earth isn’t always silent, and learns secrets of stone in the midst of a disaster.

Celebrimbor and Narvi, pre-slash. No warnings. I’m feeling a kinda way about these two. Descriptions of stonesense heavily inspired by @porphyriosao3's fanfiction Shadow of the Mines, which you can read here.

--

The first Celebrimbor knew of the earthquake was a slight tremor at the tips of his toes. He shifted and looked around; none of the other dwarves at the meeting seemed concerned. To the elf, it felt as though a heavy cart was speeding downhill — not an uncommon scenario in the smithing and crafting district of Moria, where deliveries of ore and metal were made every day, but it was still uncomfortable. He shook his head and peered at the plan Narvi had handed to him for his commentary.  “An excellent suggestion, Chief Ivrin,” he replied to a comment he had half-heard the Chief Silversmith say, “it would be best to—”  The rumble was inescapable, loud enough that it made his ears twitch involuntarily. Automatically his eyes sought Narvi’s. He was his guide and confidant for all things dwarvish — a source of constant reassurance since they had first met a month ago. However, Narvi was already looking at him, and his own eyes were as wide as platters. 

The floor was shaking — there was no mistaking it. Dwarves dashed for the door, leaving everything behind them, and Celebrimbor spun around, shouting out in confusion.  “WHAT—”  A hand gripped his and in the tumult erupting around him, Celebrimbor felt himself pulled along by Narvi’s inexorable force. The dwarf had the strongest grip the elf had come across, vice-like fingers attached to wiry, lean muscled forearms. The earth lurched again, a tremendous roaring pressing into his eardrums so forcefully that he thought his skull would split.  Just hold on, just hold on to Narvi.  For a reason that baffled him, he knew deep in the pit of his stomach that if he only managed to keep hold of the dwarf — if the dwarf kept hold of him — that he would survive whatever this was. 

Together, they stumbled out of the work hall and into the street outside. Dwarves were scattering in front of Celebrimbor like animals fleeing from a wildfire — ducking into passages, pressing into alcoves, or hunkering down under the stone awnings of buildings. Behind him, the elf heard a mighty crunch and crack, and turned around for a moment to find dust engulfing the entrance of the hall in which they had stood just a second before.  It is here that it ends, he thought calmly. First Beleriand was reclaimed by the sea, and now… now it is time for all to rip asunder. He was beginning to enjoy his time in Eregion. If only he’d had a little more of it. 

His fingers went to flex around Narvi’s again — and then with a horrifying realisation, he raised them to his face. His now empty hand was coated with a white powder flecked with blood from deep grazes across his knuckles, and instead of being on his feet, he was on all fours on the floor. Somehow, he had fallen across a slab of plaster and not noticed it in the commotion of the world around him groaning and heaving. He brushed his palm across his temple and felt warm liquid trickling down the back of his neck, his ears ringing like he’d stuck his head in a bell and a mighty hammer had crashed into it.  “NARVI!” he screamed. He hadn’t screamed in fear for centuries upon centuries, but his one light in this darkness was somewhere else and he felt his spirit cry out in anguish, as though he had been tipped from a ship in the middle of a storm.  A pair of boots suddenly became visible in the swirling, white dust in front of his face, and then hands hauled him up by the shoulders to his knees.  “Come on,” Narvi growled, his lips pressing into his ear.  And then all was silent. The swaying ceased to first a bump, and then a shudder, and then a rolling, faint buzz drifting away through the layers of stone. The earth lay still, and Celebrimbor breathed again. 

Familiar callouses brushed past his cheeks as Narvi wiped him down. He felt his hair sticking up at odd angles and his nostrils were caked in debris. He coughed, and huffs of crumbled stone puffed from his mouth.  “Narvi,” he said again. He was there, in front of him, alive.  “Come,” the dwarf said more gently this time, “place your hand on my shoulder.” As carefully as a mountain goat picking its way across a boulder field, Celebrimbor followed Narvi’s steps. Slabs of masonry had fallen into the street and several deep fissures spidered across the walls, splitting mosaic that decorated some of the wider passageways and bursting open roads like an overstuffed sausage. Everything that had been bolted or screwed on to something else appeared to have survived, but carts lay upended, wares from shops spilled and broken, glass lamps had shattered where they crashed to the floor. Every so often, Narvi would jerk him hard and they would swerve out of the path of a small rock tumbling from somewhere far above them, which only the dwarf could sense coming. Though the shaking had subsided, Celebrimbor still felt all his muscles tense, as though expecting another hit. Was it truly over? 

—

Celebrimbor gratefully took the herbal tea and sipped it. Though on principle he still hated being encased in layers of rock, in Narvi’s home he felt safe. It was like a cocoon, built from warm-coloured, banded stone, with soft lights and deep, plush furniture. It was strange — Narvi’s home in another part of Moria was almost completely untouched, and yet he’d heard of two districts that were now reduced to rubble.  “You’ve been alive since the dawn of time, and you have never come across an earthquake?”  Celebrimbor wrinkled his nose at the slight, but thought it would seem too much like nitpicking to instruct Narvi on his true age and the early Years of the world. But no — now that he came to think about it, he hadn’t heard that the earth simply decided to shake for no reason.  “Not like this, my friend. There was the sinking of Beleriand, though that was preceded by many years of hard war. Such mystical movements of the earth I have experienced, either by powerful sorcery or the hand of the gods. You are telling me that an earthquake happens… because stone just does that sometimes?”  Narvi smiled sadly. Deep rings had formed under his eyes and his fingers kept pulling at his beard in stress. He would take responsibility for much of the re-building of the most badly hit areas of the kingdom, and it would push the door project back several months — perhaps even years. The smithies and the forges had suffered the worst, and multiple supply lines from the lower mines had been completely ruined. The elves could lend their assistance, of course, but the powerhouse of Eregion was Moria, an unbridled source of wealth and skill. 

Celebrimbor swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat as he watched Narvi stir sugar into his tea, his jaw muscle twitching. How could be explain to the dwarf that he, too, grieved for this destruction of the heart of Moria — its great network of workrooms containing inventions Celebrimbor had never encountered before, which aided in the creation of wondrous things? Or the now broken and ruined feats of engineering that had taken a generation to build and to perfect, or the ancient architecture whose secrets were lost?  “Thank you for saving me,” he muttered quietly. “I feared I might die.” It was all he could say at the moment. Perhaps in time his tongue would learn the words in khuzdul to tell of his hurt and his gratitude. The dwarf glanced over and blew across his hot tea, and then shook his head.  “No. I wouldn’t let that happen to you. Not even if I had to dig you out of a pile of stone myself and carry you to the Temple to haggle for your life back.” He followed this with a bark of laughter, but his face fell silent and his eyes darkened. Celebrimbor knew he was serious and bowed his head, suddenly embarrassed that he had elicited that emotion from the dwarf — from himself.

They sat in comfortable quiet for a long time, and Celebrimbor nibbled at a sweet confection covered in powdered sugar. Sugar — that was what Narvi had said cured shock. He bartered for it directly from the East, where his homeland was. The sugar plantations of Ghomal — green, lush, where it was said you could gnaw into a cane and suck out the sweet juice — that was a sight that Celebrimbor wanted to see. He allowed his mind to take him there, transported on the backs of Narvi’s stories about the Red Mountains. Snatches of description that Celebrimbor had been captivated by melded into images that took him away from the darkness of Moria: high peaked mountains overseeing vast deserts, which came alive with chirping insects and fresh rain in spectacular purple twilights; the glittering Eastern Strait, a sea hiding unknown depths and stretching off to hidden islands; the maze of bustling markets in Narvi’s birthplace of Nazbukhrin, with high, vaulted ceilings to rival Moria’s and its entrance opening onto a shady bay clustered with dwarf ships. 

Some day, he vowed, he would go there with Narvi. He would explore the bounty that Middle-Earth had to offer.  “Where are you, Celebrimbor?”  The elf’s eyes snapped open — he hadn’t realised how tight he’d shut them and black spots danced in his vision.  “In the Orocarni,” he said truthfully, “in your homeland — it is a beautiful place, from what you have shared with me.” Narvi’s mouth opened in surprise but not displeasure. He raised his teacup to the elf in a toast, and Celebrimbor drunk.  “What I wouldn’t give to be home,” Narvi said. Celebrimbor nodded. “But, we all need to confront the reality of the world sometimes.” The master smith patted Celebrimbor’s leg and leaned in close, his elbows on his knees. He looked like an old raven, his eyes glittering in the low light.  “The dwarves have stories about times when the earth moves,” he began slowly. “Mahal created all rock and stone, formed it out of the same thing the dwarves are fashioned of. We are one and the same, in a sense, and all dwarves can sense the movements of deep earth. Like a body, then, the earth sleeps—” Narvi tapped his bare foot against the cold floor beneath him, “but it sleeps for hundreds, thousands of years. And then, as all bodies have to do at some point, it wakes. Only for a minute or two, but the dwarves can tell when it is about to stretch, to shake itself off, and to rise.”  Narvi studied Celebrimbor curiously for a moment, and seemed to be selecting his words carefully. “Men would have only noticed something was happening until they’d been knocked onto their arses or their bookcase had fallen on their heads. But you have more than a touch of dwarf about you; you feel the stone keenly.”  Celebrimbor smiled — it was not the first time the dwarf had suggested he had more than elf-blood in him. “Elves and dwarves are kindred spirits in that sense; we have a strong connection to the earth, and can sense when it wants to shake itself off like a wet dog come in from a rainstorm!”  “But,” challenged Narvi, “are not elves more to do with growing stuff of the earth — alive stuff: the plants, the trees, the grass, the…” Narvi trailed off, apparently out of ‘alive stuff’ to list.  “Are rocks not living? Do you, dwarf, not feel the heartbeat of stone: to seek out a seam of ore deep underfoot as though it was a deer sprinting through dense forest; to understand what the shape and sound of rock formations tell you, reading land as a hunter reads tracks?” Celebrimbor’s own voice faltered. Where had that come from? It was true, he knew it from overhearing Narvi speak about his craft, from what he’d seen down in the mines on his tours of Moria — but he hadn’t realised he’d taken it to heart.  “Or am I wrong?” he added swiftly, feeling his face flush. He hadn’t meant to be so presumptuous.  “No,” Narvi said, inhaling deeply, “I… I never thought an elf could. Well, at least you seem to understand it.”  “Not all elves do,” replied Celebrimbor. “No, they do not.” 

After a moment, Celebrimbor cleared his throat. He could sense Narvi had drifted off into a web of his own thoughts, a trait that Celebrimbor mirrored. “The earth stretches, then, as I would after sleep. Can dwarves predict when this will happen far into the future?”  Narvi blinked and looked around, settling himself back against his chair. He swigged from the cold cup, but grimaced at the bitterness of the brew and set it aside. “Some gifted with exceptional stonesense can predict these movements months before, noticing small fluctuations of the rock’s natural temperament. There are even those among us who are blessed in the interpretation of dreams and natural omens. Some seers who have visions bond with the stone and can feel out the earth’s mind before even the earth decides it will wake, but this is very rare. Though the earth does what it wills and its rising can take even the most skilled unawares. However…” Narvi hesitated and his eyes narrowed, “I know some of what it feels like.” Again, he appraised the elf. By dwarf standards their friendship was in its infancy, and Celebrimbor supposed he was gauging how much of his people’s secrets he should impart.  “I would learn, if you would teach,” said Celebrimbor. Narvi nodded and tipped the rest of the tea into Celebrimbor’s cup, motioning for him to drink.  “A tension, from your fingertips down through your feet and into the rock below. Some Men I have worked with call it ‘premonition’, though it runs deeper than mere feeling. Our stonesense is blood-borne, something all dwarves carry since birth. I have experienced it before, and miners know it well: it is what helps us avoid pockets of gas during tunneling. The feeling when you walk into a room and the conversation stops, and you feel… uneasy. The eve of before a battle, the slowing of time before something horrible happens, and you can do nought but watch the situation unfold. Something like that. I felt it just before the quake, softly at first, but then with an urgency I had never felt before. I could taste the fresh, mineral scent on my tongue, too, as if I had walked into an unopened chamber underground, newly discovered. The earth opening up as it hadn’t done for thousands of years, millenia-old rock cracking and pushing upwards to greet us.”  Celebrimbor laughed and then bit his tongue. “I mean no offence,” he said swiftly, noticing the wounded look Narvi gave him, “it is just… ‘greet’ is an interesting choice of word. I would wish the earth greet a little more gently next time. I might not live through another handshake.”  Narvi’s expression softened. “I have no ill-will towards the stone. We are the ones who chose to build inside a mountain. It awakens when it pleases, and if it disrupts our delving, we have only ourselves to blame.” 

Something about this put Celebrimbor’s heart at ease. This was just another part of the unruly earth that could not be tamed — like the coming of a blizzard or the forming of a hurricane. No dark power had come over the land, and no god invoked wrath upon the citizens of Moria. It was terrifying, but awe-inspiring to be reminded of the power the earth had over its inhabitants at all times.  “You move me with your words, Narvi. And I agree with you. Who are we but travellers through this world — whereas the rock beneath our feet is eternal?” 

Wounds would heal. Celebrimbor’s clothes had been washed and his hair untangled. Stone could be mended. Buildings constructed stronger. Narvi was right: there was no point in hiding from this, or wishing yourself away to the other side of Middle-Earth. Celebrimbor had thrown in his lot with these dwarves, and if it took him braving underground tempests… well, he might as well get on with it, as Narvi would say. 

[rosella-writes]

From the edgy/misc OC ask meme:

What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

for Vir and/or Tilda? <3

Thank you so much!!

For Vir: she's constantly thought to be more aggressive and angry than she really is, by virtue of her resting face being very frowny (and people being racist and sexist towards intimidated by strong female Dalish elves). They wouldn't know that she's soft-hearted, knows a staggering number of Dalish folktales, and is patient and kind to children.

For Tilda: She began as an excuse for me to play Cadash, and I wanted to see if I could make a dwarf with albinism. She went from a pretty straightforward "sarcastic/jokey archer dwarf" to a character whose attitude reflects a lot of Iron Bull's type of infiltration and doesn't believe in the Stone (despite having a keen Stonesense that she chalks up to good luck and an excellent sense of direction). I also decided that I didn't want to use her appearance for aesthetics alone, and gave her other complications of her lack of melanin — she experiences ocular albinism too, which causes some nystagmus (shaky eyes) and moderate blindness. She can only see shapes and colours when above ground, and can't bear the bright, direct sunlight.

Absolutely not, not with either of them lol. Virelan would not like me, and I'd not like Tilda.

I'll do this one for Vir: I love how her strengths are also her flaws. I feel like it makes her such a person. What helps her succeed as Inquisitor causes her problems in her interpersonal relationships, and vice versa.

[ashleysingermfablog]

Wk 17, 24th of July, 2024 Artist Reference

Shelley Simpson: Stonesense

[thetoxicgamer]

This 3D Dwarf Fortress Visualizer Now Works With Steam

You can construct some incredible constructions in Dwarf Fortress, but even the dramatically improved Steam edition of the well-known colony management game only allows you to view one horizontal slice at once. Fortunately, those times are past because a potent Dwarf Fortress mod that supports the Steam edition has been upgraded and now includes a 3D visualisation tool. DFHack is a powerful Dwarf Fortress utility that’s been around for years, but has only just now been updated with a beta version that supports the new Steam edition. It’s effectively a cheat engine for Dwarf Fortress, allowing you to access just about anything going on in the game and use a command line to change any variables you want. Practically speaking, however, it’s a way to use a bunch of powerful plugins that do this for you, and one of those is called Stonesense, another Dwarf Fortress mod that’s been available in the vanilla ASCII version for many years. It opens a new viewer window that displays the game you have loaded in an isometric 3D view, and you can have it display multiple z-levels of your fortress at a time. When you launch it, it’ll show three levels by default, but if you hold CTRL and scroll the mouse wheel, you can increase or decrease the number of levels displayed. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8zdNun0prc The results can be pretty incredible, and Dwarf Fortress players have gotten impressively creative over the years, building imposing stone edifices at the entrances to their cavern kingdoms and mighty statues that tower over the surrounding landscapes. To install, head over to the DFHack homepage and follow the installation instructions provided for your operating system. You can download the latest build here. Extract the .zip archive and copy the files into the root folder of your Dwarf Fortress installation, and allow the new .dll file to overwrite the one you have. With that done, DFHack is now installed, and you can use it in any of your existing saves. To use Stonesense – or any of the other plugins included in DFHack – pull up the DFHack command line in Dwarf Fortress by pressing CTRL-Shift-D. You can then open the Stonesense visualiser with the commands ‘stonesense’ or ‘ssense’. A new window will appear, and you’ll be able to view your fortress in 3D. There are scores more tools included in DFHack, and the documentation available on the homepage can show you what they do and how to use them. Dwarf Therapist, another massively popular and useful mod, is now available for the Steam version as well. Check out our list of the 100 best mods on PC for more user hacks that have changed games history. Read the full article

[stonesense10]

Kitchen Trends for Tiles/Countertops - What’s in, What’s Out?

Remodeling a kitchen is a significant project that takes a lot of planning, time, effort, and not to forget, a sizable budget. Many of the elements that go into a kitchen can’t be changed out in a year or two if you decide in the future that you don’t like them. A coffee table in your living room can easily be replaced. Your kitchen cabinets are there to stay much longer. If you’re getting ready for a kitchen renovation and checking out tiles stores in Ottawa, you should know the trends that are fading out of fashion and which ones are chic and timeless.

Outdated Elements of Kitchen Design

Kitchen fads come and go. Remember avocado green or harvest gold appliances? Aren’t you glad that those colours are out? Modern colour choices are natural browns and greens, but we’ve seen many combinations over the years. Some kitchen trends make your kitchen feel modern and chic. Other trends can become outdated so quickly, your kitchen might feel out of style in just a year. Here are some kitchen fads that are losing popularity.

·         Open Shelving

·         Colourful Appliances

·         Rustic Wood

·         Tiled Countertops

·         Glass Mosaic Background Tiles

Timeless Kitchen Trends

A little black dress is a timeless fashion piece. You might need to update it with trendy jewelry and shoes, but the LBD is a classic standard in most women’s wardrobes. It’s the same with your kitchen. There are some standard elements and features that simply never go out of style.

Everyone always wants pantry space. Most kitchens can always use more drawers and counterspace. The traditional kitchen triangle of stove, sink and refrigerator is still one of the most efficient layouts for a kitchen design. When you’re remodeling, think about these timeless kitchen trends.

·         Natural Stone Countertops

·         Subway Tiles

·         Sustainability

·         Open Kitchens

Let Us Show You the Beauty of Natural Stone

From the floor to the ceiling, you want your kitchen to be inviting, functional, and timeless. StoneSense specializes in natural stone, ceramic and porcelain tile, mosaic, and hardwood for your home. We source our products from sustainable and high-quality suppliers to make your kitchen beautiful. Our installers are highly trained and qualified to handle any size job in the kitchen, living room, or bathroom. We know marble, quartz, and granite in Ottawa. Contact us to learn more about choosing the right countertops, tiles and flooring products for your kitchen.

[dwarvendiaries]

Book 2:- Chapter 1 Meet Eletha Uthasanera the Saltwater crocodile man

We're back in Ramul Zurko and it's time to play the character you all voted on. Meet Eletha Uthasanera

We spawn in on the Elven isles of the East

Oh, nearly forgot my furry friends!

Now let's go talk to the elves.

There they are in the trees.

I have a useless conversation

In the mean time I'll wait under this tree.

Down below

Up above

[ao3feed-thehobbit]

Shadow of the Mines

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/z6tnJIX

by Porphyrios

The backstory to my stories set in @Tamloid's Mirrorverse, Dripping Water and New Friends; the (probably not) long-awaited story of how Gror met Klûk. Featuring stonesense, the mines, the deep places, and a fair amount of salty dwarves.

Words: 3386, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of Mirrorverse

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Original Dwarf Character(s), Mirrorverse - Character, Durin's Bane | Balrog of Moria, Mithril - Character, Mining - Character, Grandsons of Durin III

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/z6tnJIX

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Shadow of the Mines

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/6MEfTGB

by Porphyrios

The backstory to my stories set in @Tamloid's Mirrorverse, Dripping Water and New Friends; the (probably not) long-awaited story of how Gror met Klûk. Featuring stonesense, the mines, the deep places, and a fair amount of salty dwarves.

Words: 3386, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of Mirrorverse

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Original Dwarf Character(s), Mirrorverse - Character, Durin's Bane | Balrog of Moria, Mithril - Character, Mining - Character, Grandsons of Durin III

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/6MEfTGB

[dalishious]

Hey, I was just wondering about stonesense. Is it actually real? I seem to remember the female dwarf in the descent dlc having something like that, but it's been a while since I've played it. If it is real, is there evidence that surface dwarves do actually lose their stone sense? I just feel if it is real then it probably relates to the titans, which are probably going to be a pretty big deal in the next game thanks

I believe that Stone Sense is real, but not entirely understood, and largely politicized by Orzammar.

There is evidence that surface dwarves have Stone Sense too. Stone Sense is like a literal sixth sense, that helps dwarves with navigation underground. Except it must help with navigation above ground too, because that is the only explanation I can think of as to why dwarves are the only residents of Kirkwall that don’t get lost in the maze-like city design:

“Kirkwall is an old quarry; the streets and buildings are all carved down into the sides of forgotten stoneworks rather than built up with brick and mortar. The neighbourhoods follow old fault lines and veins in the rock. It’s a map that only dwarves understand, so even longtime residents wander lost along the alleyways, looking for home.” —Hard in Hightown, p. 31

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @lazysaturdayonthebeach based on this photoset.

Pairing: Fili/Kili Rating: T

You can also read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

—

Heirs of the fallen line of Durin, Princes Guillaume Filibert Frerinson and Ruairí Kilian Disarson had been smuggled out of Erebor during the last days of Thror’s reign.  The scions of an ancient royal bloodline knew nothing of riches or royal life.  They were barely more than toddlers when entrusted to loyal guards by their parents.  The two boys grew up rough, on the run, in the company of strong and fierce men.

When the last of their guard died defending them not long after both had finally come of age, Guillaume, the elder, led his cousin to a safe location, as they had been taught, to make a plan. He found a cave in the side of a cliff with no scent of troll or animal. It was barely large enough for the two and their packs, probably the result of a rockfall. Thankfully, he had stonesense and heard the little haven call him. The climb to the niche was not easy. They were sure only dwarves and goats could manage it. That knowledge gave them a bit of relief, a lifetime on the run meant they never let down their guard completely.

Once inside, Ruairí began to assemble a meal. The weather was mild, so he eschewed a fire in favor of anonymity. The last attack had been less than a week past. There was no sense alerting any potential pursuers.

Guillaume inventoried their supplies. They still had a decent supply of gold, two changes of clothes each, serviceable overcoats for inclement weather, and their boots would last some time yet. The bedrolls were wearing thin, but they doubled up so they could make do a bit longer.

What they really needed was food. He cast a glance at the meal Ruairí had arranged. The last of their lembas, some dried meat, and berries he had somehow picked recently. Guillaume smiled. Only Ruairí would waste time on his cousin’s favorite fruit. Their waterskins were nearly full, having passed a small stream earlier in the day, so this was a feast by their standards.

Ruairí noticed the smile and bumped his shoulder into his cousin’s while displaying a dazzling smile of his own. He handed the largest berry over and wiped his fingers on his trousers before pointing to a spot on the map. “I have an idea.”

And so their relationship turned a corner. They decided to no longer be princes on the run. Their pursuers were looking for two haggard princes. They might not suspect two farmers living openly in the wilds near Ered Luin. They decided to use their family names openly. Only their closest kin might recognize them and they wouldn’t have to learn to respond to new names.

On the map where Guillaume, now Fíli, had kept immaculate notes for years, they traced a route from their current location deep in Ered Nimrais. They could shadow the Old South Road and The Greenway toward Bree. By the time they arrived, they would have trinkets and pelts to trade. They would need their gold to buy a farmstead.

Still wary, the two walked less like hunted animals and more like free dwarves every day. Kíli, as Ruairí was now called, had devised a system to collect and label seeds and fruits as they traveled. His careful notes and packets added credence to their story and would save them much in seed purchases. He even exchanged seeds and notes with farmers along the way.

“Fi!” Kíli jumped around a tree, bursting with excitement. Poor Fíli’s stream of relief went a bit wild. “That man said we should go to The Shire for the very best seeds and advice! Can we? Please?”

Fíli composed and secured himself before they started walking again. His golden curls were cut short to disguise them further. Kíli told him he looked very handsome with short hair. Unlike Kíli’s dark curlier hair that seemed to do as it pleased, freed from the effects of length, braids, and beads, Fíli’s curled gently close to his head and was happy to be swept into a neat style. Kíli always looked like they had been caught in a sudden windstorm. They both loved it.

Unused to denying each other anything reasonable in this new life, Fíli easily agreed to the detour. When they stopped to camp for the evening, he pulled out their map and they discussed options while a fat hare roasted, courtesy of Kíli’s archery.

“Look!” Kíli exclaimed. “The Shire is right on our way! We just turn onto The Old North Road from The Greenway, take care of our business in Bree, then follow this extension of the Great East Road right into The Shire!”

Caught up in his cousin’s excitement, Fíli almost missed the sound of two hoots like a barn owl followed by one like a brown owl. He used his leg to push dirt on the fire while rolling his body over Kíli’s and pushing the younger dwarf into the darkness behind him.

“Wait! Wait, please. I’m sorry.” A red haired dwarf stepped into the barely lit area near the fire. “I didn’t expect you to be quite so nervous. I was just letting my brother know it looked safe.” He hooted again, more softly. “Ori, come here.” A nervous looking dwarf wrapped in sweaters stepped out of the dark.

Fíli was in a crouch in front of Kíli, who held his bow nocked and ready in the space under Fíli’s arms that brandished his twin swords.

“Easy… I am Nori Durísarson. This is my brother, Ori. We are traveling and saw your camp. We hoped to join you. We did not come empty handed.” He waved his hand and Ori showed off a bunch of fish.

Kíli poked Fíli. “I love fish,” he whispered.

Fíli lowered his swords and stood. “My apologies. We’ve had some difficult experiences on the road that have made us a bit skittish.” He gave Kili a hand rising. “Fíli and Kíli, at your service.” They bowed together. No mention of relationship or last name was included. What they were, had been, or became was nobody’s business but their own.

Fíli soon had the fire roaring again and the fish joined the hare. Kíli admired Ori’s sweaters and received one as a gift for the unintended fright. Both brothers claimed that their older brother would be scandalized if they did nothing to make amends. In the end, the beautiful dark blue sweater joined Kíli’s best clothes deep in his pack with the seeds and notes. Fíli refused to accept another for himself. He did take first watch, sitting up into the night talking with Nori.

In the morning, Nori fed the fire enough to heat up the leftover hare. Ori produced some hardtack and coffee from his stash of endless surprises. But they didn’t stay. They were close enough to home that the temptation of fresh food was too strong to wait.

Nori and Kíli exchanged contact information as best they could, but Kíli was distracted and jumpy when Ori moved near the still sleeping Fíli.

“I’m just fixing the blanket,” Ori said, raising his hands up and away from the sleeping blond.

Once the brothers were gone, Kíli crawled in beside Fíli. He considered the best part of second watch his chance to warm up and harass Fíli at the same time.

“I was awake from the time you started rattling that coffee pot,” his companion mumbled.

“Still don’t like anyone messing with you,” Kíli grinned, “that’s my job.” Both huffed their laughter into the warm bubble trapped between their bodies and the blankets and Kíli sighed, “you’re extra warm this morning.”

Fíli raised his head to check the progress of breakfast and noticed the blue and white blanket draped over the almost threadbare ones from their own bedrolls. Ori was sneaky with his gifts. It was fine wool and a plaid design. As it was almost autumn, he planned to purchase something like it in Bree. He rubbed it gently, admiring the softness and warmth. In search of his own warmth, Kíli snuggled closer. Fíli rested his head in the mop of wild curls and wondered if they could really pull this off. He hated to admit how much Nori sneaking up on them had rattled him.

They had to figure out how to make it through the first winter and spring until the crops came in. He sighed. They had survived fifty years of running, they could manage one winter in a house, as long as they were together.

Somewhere between the Sarn Ford and Bree, they came across a beautiful white dog with ice blue eyes. It turned out to be deaf, but responded to Kíli well enough. The dog followed them all the way to Bree and walked into the Prancing Pony and their room like he owned the place. “I guess he needs a name,” Fíli said.

Kíli laughed, stomped his foot to get the dog’s attention and called him Floofer in Iglishmêk. The dog trotted around in a circle and sat proudly. “I forgot to tell you. He understands Iglishmêk.”

Fíli face palmed. Only Kíli would find and adopt a dog that understood a secret dwarf language in the wild.

Their business in Bree was short. They traded their pelts and trinkets, and even some of Kíli’s seeds, for gold. Fíli considered purchasing a dog cart. He brought Kíli to look at it. They discussed it over lunch. Kíli discussed it with Floofer. In the end, they made the decision as they always did, together. They bought a pony and a small cart. Floofer could run or ride as he felt. And they looked much more like farmers. They made a little nest of blankets, packs, and supplies in the back that kept them warm and snug each night. Floofer was an excellent heater.

The Shire was exactly the agricultural bonanza that the man who recommended it to Kíli said it was. Fíli gave up counting after the thirteenth farm visited. He reckoned that they weren’t going to have to buy any seed. And the hobbits were so kind that, once they explained the real story to the Thain, they were loaded up with enough supplies to make it through that first winter. They were also told to use the surname Took and tell anyone who had a problem with them to take it up with the Thain. Both princes were nearly in tears by the time the old gentleman was done. He assured them that their secret was safe. “Everyone should have family,” he said, “There are enough of us that no one will notice that you two are a little tall.” He laughed and the two young men finally did cry. The Old Took distracted them with a story about an ancestor who was so tall that he could ride a real horse. Not a pony, a horse! Like a man or an elf! Imagine!

Too soon, the time came to leave The Shire. They promised to return after harvest the following year to tell of the results. It was nice to feel that they had a place to go back to if things went wrong. They really didn’t want to take the chance to stay and put the hobbits in danger though.

After several more months of traveling, they finally made it to Ered Luin. Rather than go into the mountains proper, they looked for property nearby where they might not encounter as many dwarves. Eventually they located a farmstead on the River Lhûn with a view of the mountains. They were absolutely sure when they saw the blue door knob that matched Floofer’s and Fíli’s eyes. Before the sale was even fully completed, Floofer came bounding out of their new woods carrying a stick twice as big as he was and dancing excitedly. They were home.

It only took two days to unload the wagon into the little white house near the shore. It took another two weeks to get everything organized. Fíli built a barn for their pony and the chickens while Kíli arranged and rearranged the house. They even mixed some blue paint up from a few crushed blueberries, a little vinegar, and just a sprinkle of wood ash for depth and texture.

Fili took the bowl of color and a brush outside to paint protective runes over the doors and windows. Kili cleaned and rearranged as an excuse to watch Fíli stretching up to reach over the windows. He stayed in the last window watching the blond’s bottom bob beautifully across the yard to the barn. Then he went to collect some cool water from the river.

Floofer accompanied him, enjoying a drink while Kili filled their bucket. The dog bounced and jumped, begging to play fetch, so Kíli indulged him. If the game gave him an excuse to watch Fíli paint, what harm was done. He was on the last barn door, it wouldn’t be long.

Despite the cool weather, Fíli was quite warm from his effort. They splashed some water into the wash basin and Kíli took the rest to the kitchen reservoir. They planned to build a water wheel to provide running water and power a grindstone. But for now, buckets from the river would have to make do.

A large chunk of ice caught Kíli’s attention and he fished it out before closing the cover. Holding it up to the light, he was amazed by its purity. ‘Perfect to keep Fíli’s drink cool!’ he thought. He dropped the chunk into a cup and filled it with water. He took a long drink, felt satisfied, and refilled it. Then he settled into a large chair near the fire to share it.

By Yule, everything was just right, and white. An overnight storm covered everything, as far as they could see, under a thick blanket of snow. Inside their cozy home, Fíli sat in his favorite chair, wrapped in the blue plaid blanket watching Kíli putter around in the blue sweater and some socks that he had proudly learned to knit himself. Presents were wrapped and lying beside the hearth where a warm fire burned. The whole house smelled of roasting venison.

There was a knock at the door. Kíli still jumped at surprises, but Fíli waved him off with a reassuring smile and shuffled to the door, with a sword under the blanket still wrapped around him. What he saw made him slam the door closed in shock.

Kíli ran over, hugged him, and opened the door when Fíli just pointed.

Their Uncle Thorin stood on the doorstep, eyebrows raised. “Nephews, I’ve come to talk to you about a quest.”