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[personal profile] fuckelves
Curse this blasted drowsiness...I have seen writings by others that I am not the only one who suffers, trying to stave off sleep. These sleepwalkers too...

[Dots appear on the page - Thorin is tapping his pen, unable to coordinate his thoughts. He's simply too tired.]

My friends...I ask you, has anyone discovered a way to keep awake? Some manner of drink or spell? I have consumed this thing in the kitchens called 'coffee' - a foreign drink to me, but I am told it keeps one awake - yet I still struggle so...
fuckelves: (regal)
[personal profile] fuckelves
[Living in the mountains, Thorin had grown rather fond of winter. He enjoyed the snow and the cold wind. So he would often leave the castle and go out to explore the grounds. If he could find game, he would hunt. Hunting in winter, there was something exhilarating about it - something he couldn't explain. Tracking prey in the snow, following tracks and trails. It was almost primal.]

[So he wandered in and out of the castle. Thorin could be found wandering the grounds or through the halls.]

[True enough, Dwarves did not celebrate this thing the men call 'Christmas'. But they had winter festivals and gatherings. Thorin wants to celebrate such festivals, but with no other Dwarves, it seems difficult and sad. Still, he will honor the traditions in this new place in his own way.]

((ooc: Thorin can be found wandering the halls, the grounds, drying his furs in the library or warming up in the kitchen - take your pick!))
fuckelves: (sad)
[personal profile] fuckelves
[Thorin's not sure what to think over M leaving...true, they were not particularly close, but he did appreciate the strong woman's opinion and had a great respect for her after the business with the Gentlemen.]

...the bar won't be the same without her running the show...
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[personal profile] fuckelves
[Thorin had been resting and trying to take it easy since the confrontation with the Gentlemen. He awoke one morning and sat up out of his bed...but something didn't feel right. Thorin felt cold, and he didn't want to leave the warmth of his bed. But eventually he summoned his will and slid from the bed...]

[Only to fall from the side of it and hit his chin hard on the floor. Had he grown shorter? Mahal, he hoped not! Every Dwarf's nightmare was the day he started shrinking...]

[No...this was something else. Something felt strange on Thorin's back, and no matter what he tried, he could not make himself rise from all fours. What's more, his arms were covered with what appeared to be black scales. Horror gripped the King Under the Mountain as he scurried to the full-length mirror that was nailed to the wall.]

[To his horror...a baby dragon stared back at him.]

((ooc: Thorin's first loss! For the next few days, Thorin will be stuck in the baby dragon form pictured above...but isn't he just precious??? He cannot speak, but he can dictate to the journal, which will translate his dragon-ese.))

((Pick your own and specify the location/action or choose from these scenarios: Thorin's room, in the kitchen))
fuckelves: (angry)
[personal profile] fuckelves
[Thorin's handwriting is...decent...some of his letters resemble Dwarvish runes, but are readable enough. Some of the words are scratched out, as he would occasionally catch himself writing in the language of his people: Khuzdul.]

What madness is this?? What is a king without his voice? Who's responsible for this? He'll face the sharp end of my Orcrist for this!!

Has the castle done this? Is this how it has chosen to punish us for the vandalism it suffered? That's it! I know it!! I knew the castle would punish us for the destruction!

Someone will answer for this, heed my words! No one silences Thorin Oakenshield!! As long as I must suffer in this silence, I will be sharpening my weapons so that I am ready when the guilty party is revealed...
fuckelves: (sad)
[personal profile] fuckelves
I know I am not the only one here who was suddenly torn away from loved ones in need. So, it is with a reluctant hand that I write this now; I am not a Dwarf who can easily ask for aid to those who are not of my kind. But the grief is far too much to bear.

How do you deal with this pain?

My sister entrusted her sons to me for the quest to reclaim our homeland, but in their hour of need, this castle ripped me from them. I am told that time stops in our worlds when the castle calls us, and that is of some comfort. But still, it hurts me to think on them. Is the pain of leaving loved ones behind not enough sacrifice for the castle, it must take something else of significant value as well?

It is impossible not to think on them, my nephews may as well be my own sons. They came when I called for help, they are excellent heirs to the Durin line. Therefore, forgetting my world is not an option. But if anyone has any advice on this matter...I am more than willing to hear them out.
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[personal profile] fuckelves
[Where is he? Why is there a book in his hand?]

...from the make of this place, I'd say this is Elf sorcery...

[To appease his curiosity, Thorin opens the book and finds not only his name, but the words he spoke not seconds ago written inside.]

...definitely Elf devilry.

[He tilts a brow and observes his surroundings - seems to be a lobby of some sort. Dwarves don't typically live in castles, so he knows this is not the work of his kind - and his kind would never demand the sacrifice that this castle did.]

Where in Mahal's beard am I?

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Paradisa

January 2015

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