#stiffbeards

[mrkida-art]

A Stiffbeard dwarf being mistaken for a child by the bear-folk (Based on these designs)

[thatshadowintheuniverse]

@tolkiengenweek Finale // Places ● Environment

⁷⁄₇ of dwarven clans » Stiffbeards

Dwelt in the mountains of the East, the distance between their mansions in the East and the Misty Mountains, specifically Gundabad, was said to be as great or greater than that of Gundabad's distance from the Blue Mountains in the West.

[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.

[angrenwen]

The Seven Houses of the Khazad by Artigas

Stiffbeards: Renowned Craftsman, they make their homes in ice caves on the vast frozen lands up north, starting around the ice bay of Forochel and all the way down in between the mountains of Angmar and the grey mountains (Ered Mithrim). Very secretive and peaceful, they avoid taking part in any troubles from the outside world at any costs. Despite their secretive ways, they are also accomplished merchants, and regularly travel vast spans of the frozen lands to trade with many diverse cultures. The items they create from exotic materials such as Ivory and bones from sea monsters are very sought after, in particular their fabled toys. Stiffbeards are ultimately free spirits, lovers of music, stories and the tribe above everything else. Stonefoots: They are the somewhat less developed branch of Durin’s folk, widely regarded as great miners, gem cutters and delvers. They are otherwise considered by many to be quite simple-minded, stubborn and difficult to deal with, but despite that they are greatly favoured by the Longbeards, which hold them in high regard as dependable and trustworthy allies. They dwell on the southern part of the Orocani on the east side, near the pinewoods and shores of the sea of Rûn. Broadbeams: Great merchants from Zirakbhund (Mallost) and later Mount Dolmed in the Ered Luin, they were Founders of the great city of Belegost (Gabilgathol). The Broadbeams are well known for their wealth, their prosperity, and the formidable fortresses they have built. They are also widely respected for their military might, and in particular for their legendary Dragon-Warriors. They are also considered the greatest armourers the dwarves had ever produced and were the creators of the fearsome Dwarf-Masks. Most prominent among the Broadbeams was King Azaghâl who wounded Glaurung the Dragon, and whose Dragon-helm was later passed down to Turin Turambar as part of his family heirloom. Longbeards: Noble and wise rulers, originally from the northern part of misty mountains on Mt. Gundabad (under which Durin himself is said to have awaken) and later on its southern ranges where they founded the great city of Khazad-dum, dug under the three peaks- Barazinbar, Zirakzigil and Bundushathûr. Regal, prosperous and traditionalist, they are the righteous heirs of Durin I The Deathless, and are therefore the supreme rulers of the dwarf kind. The Longbeards are held as a divine and sacred lineage by the other clans and command great power. Firebeards: Hot-headed, warlike and tough, Firebeards came from Nogrod (Tumunzahar) in the Blue Mountains. Supreme metalworkers, they are said to have invented maille. They are also hailed as the greatest Blade-smiths among Dwarves, and naturally many of the best came from their ranks, such as:  Gamil Zirak (said to be the greatest of all times, maker of the knife Angrist, the sword Andúril and the Dragon-Helm of Dor-Lómin), as well as the legendary Dwarf-smiths Telchar and Garmur. They befriended the elves with whom they traded profusely, and were commissioned by King Thingol of Doriath to delve Menegroth as well as to create treasuries and weapons for him. The necklace Nauglamír was their greatest creation for the King, and the cause of equally great woe. Ironfists: Proud, strong and fierce, the Ironfists are renowned for their formidable warriors of noble descent and their military might. Hailing from far up north on the Orocani mountains and near the gulf left by the now extinct sea of Helcar, they are said to be the first to unveil the secrets of Iron and Steel, which they brought to Durin as their gift when they answered to his call. They are a very warlike and greedy people though, and are accounted to have been involved in many shameful minor wars against other clans, particularly with the Firebeards, to whom they bear a grudge and consider to be their rivals. It is also with great difficulty that they accept to be ruled over by the Longbeards, and despite recognizing their authority as rightful rulers of the dwarfkind, they take every opportunity they can to act independently. Blacklocks: Great architects and Jewell makers that made their homes in the Mountains of Shadow’s far eastern side (Ered Glamhoth), among the remnants of Hildórien in the arid lands scorched by the never-ending sun. They were the first to develop civilization and are prodigiously rich and unbelievably proud. The Blacklocks are very famous for their wealth and they guard it with extreme avarice. They are also accused of being the “black sheep” of Durin’s folk and of being greedy and selfish, as well as of worse things such as dealing with orcs and perhaps even Mordor. Unfortunately, many times those accusations bear more than a hint of truth.

[ironfoot-mothafocka]

Dwarrowtober: Friendship (and Memory)

Gaelan uncovered the scrap of parchment and took a peek. Immediately, the dwarf’s hand slammed down on top of his, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. “No!” he hissed defiantly. “You remember!” Gaelan sighed and shook his head. “I don’t,” he moaned. The formation of the word was on the tip of his tongue, like a caged bird waiting to be freed. He vaguely knew that the root of it was A-S-M — the root for welcome in the Ugzarakian dialect of Khuzdul, which the dwarves of that region called kishki. He squinted hard into his friend’s face, willing there to be a hint. There wasn’t any. As close as they were, Vadlik was an unrelenting teacher. “Asklum? Aslum?” he tried. A smile twitched the corner of Vadlik’s mouth. “As-klum,” he corrected. “Klum,” he repeated, putting emphasis on the last syllable of the word. “Asklum,” Gaelan diligently said, now with the stress in the right place. “Gathering.” Gaelan massaged his temples, breathing in deeply. They had been at it for an hour and already his brain felt was though it had been pressed through a laundry mangle. “We stop,” Vadlik said gently. “You better, maybe.” Gaelan smiled. ‘Maybe’ was a word that Vadlik had only just learned, and he had grown accustomed to saying it as often as he could to practise it. Are you hungry? Maybe. How are you feeling? Good, maybe. Am I at least getting better at kishki? Maybe yes, maybe no. “And you’re maybe getting better at Westron,” Gaelan replied in standard Khuzdul, the kind that every dwarf knew and that was spoken by those of the Western and Central Houses of dwarves. Getting even mildly conversational in it had been a task, but it was nowhere near as mind-bending as its north-eastern dialect. Vadlik grinned proudly and puffed up his chest, tucking a heavy Stiffbeard braid behind his ear. “I think, yes. I practise by market. Dalishmen talk to me — no… no many Stiffbeards here,” he said, his broad smile revealing a row of capped silver teeth. His Westron was still halting and uncertain, but Vadlik had soon swiftly overcome his embarrassment at not understanding the Men living around Erebor by settling into the common Stiffbeard mindset of simply not caring about what anyone thought. If the race of dwarves were a proud and resilient people, those who lived in the small enclave of Ugzarak were the toughest of the whole, hardy bunch.

—

It was here that he would die. Already, Gaelan could feel himself slipping slowly into sleep, the ice-encrusted cave floor feeling like the softest, warmest feather pillow. He was far too hot and he cast the covers from his body, but the covers that he cast away was the thick, fur-lined cloak covering his mail. Oh well, he didn’t need it. He was still stuffy and his skin felt like it was prickling with fire. Perhaps he should remove his mail, his gloves, his boots, his trousers? Then surely this damned heat would leave him. Through half-lidded eyes, the young soldier watched the blizzard stream down outside the cave-mouth. Numbly, he wondered how in the world it could be so warm when outside it was so cold. It was just that he’d found a good cave to tuck himself in for the night. A miracle, really.

Gaelan raised his head slightly — he had seen a figure coming towards him through the flurry of white flecks that rippled in front of his eyes like a waterfall. With a jolt of understanding, he realised that it was his commander, Beregar! Beregar! The last time he had seen him, he had been laying face-down in the snow, frozen solid. But of course he had gotten up again and found this cave, and he was leading a troop of men behind him — everyone was still alive. “Beregar!” he called out happily, too weak to raise a hand but his thin, dry lips stretched in a relieved smile. His commander’s expression was serious, and in his hand he clutched a burning torch. His furs and shining helmet were slick from snow and his wiry, black beard had frozen into solid icicles. But he was on his feet, with food and water and fire. How long had it been since he’d eaten? They’d feast here together, all of them, before making their way out of this damnable snowy wasteland.

—

Vadlik grimaced. “Like water — pazkha,” he spat. Gaelan laughed. He at least knew pazkha, which was a favourite of the snow-mammoth hunter — shit. “Then put more salt in it like you always do,” he ribbed in Westron, handing the dwarf the salt cellar and watching the Stiffbeard pour a liberal amount in. Vadlik chewed disappointedly. Gaelan knew what he was missing. The thick, nourishing muta bird broth; rich, salty, creamy and fatty, favoured by those hailing from Ushkar, the hunting outpost at the tip of the northernmost mountain, the North of Norths. It was that broth, and the hands that had made it, which had saved Gaelan’s life when every other member of his scouting party had become trapped in the network of hills and glaciers that covered the edge of the world. It had been a mission doomed for failure from the start, though Gaelan had learned to box up the anger and resentment associated with being the sole survivor. Not now, he kept telling himself. I’ll deal with it another time. Vadlik looked up, his eyes sparkling at his friend. Somehow, the Stiffbeard always knew when one of his moods was descending on him. “What is… soup? Saying in kishki,” the hunter challenged him. Gaelan’s kishki vocabulary consisted mainly of food-based words, since most of their study sessions had been accompanied by meals. “Kalak,” Gaelan replied. Everything in Khuzdul, in kishki, could be linked back to something else. Kalak was related to their word for fire, for nourishment, for life.

—

“How long has he been asleep?” Vadlik pressed his hand to the strange warrior’s forehead. His skin at least felt less like the hard ground on which he had been lying for an unknown amount of time, and his breathing was deeper. Layered in mammoth skin blankets, with a fire blazing softly behind him, he would hopefully live to see the dawn. “A few hours,” he said. He cast an eye over the bodies which had led him to the man, now piled in the snow — he was the only one who had lived. They had been found in a long trail spanning miles and miles, and how this lone soldier had got up to the cave had been a mystery even to the dwarves of Ushkar. He’d had some fight in him, but that fight had been about to run out by the time Vadlik had found him. Beregar, he had called him. He wondered which one of his dead companions Beregar was. “And what will we do with him?” Vadlik looked up, surprised at the challenge. He noted the suspicion in the eyes of his fellow hunter, and understood his reasoning. But this man was harmless. What could he do against him — he who now had nothing? “We’ll keep him, of course. You never know,” Vadlik said with a grin, “we could teach him to hunt mammoth.”

[arofili]

in their halls of stone || Chapter 5: Amethyst

part of Heirlooms

A history of the Dwarven-Rings: from their gifting to the Kings of the Seven Clans, through the bellies of dragons, and into Sauron's grasp. Chapter 5: The Amethyst Ring of the Stiffbeards.

For @khazadweek​ Day 5: Stiffbeards! ft. old friendships, new friendships, and dastardly dragons.

START AT CHAPTER 1!

chapter 5 notes:

Rating: M | Major Character Death | Graphic Depictions of Violence Relationships: Sauron & Audun III (OC), Gudbrand II (OC) & Rûvek III (OC), Aiwareiks (OC) & Hrímil Frostheart Characters: Audun III (OC; Stiffbeard King), Sauron, Sindri VI (OC; Stiffbeard King), Gudbrand II (OC; Stiffebard King), Rûvek III (OC; Ironfist King), Hrímil Frostheart (LOTRO), Aiwareiks (Nazgûl OC) Word count: 2k

READ CHAPTER 5 ON AO3!

[nenuials]

“Since they were to come in the days of the power of Melkor, Aulë made the dwarves strong to endure. Therefore they are stone-hard, stubborn, fast in friendship and in enmity, and they suffer toil and hunger and hurt of body more hardily than all other speaking peoples; and they live long, far beyond the span of Men, yet not forever.” 

― The Silmarillion, “Of Aulë and Yavanna”

⤷ comission for @anthropologyarda​

[thehobbitpanda]

(Wow... so this has been a work in progress for coming up to a year now ^^;)

I was inspired by Silver_Pup’s fic The Long Road Home to draw my own interpretation of the 7 dwarf fathers. The names and base descriptions are courtesy of Silver_Pup. I had so much fun designing these dwarves and imagine what the contributed to Dwarven society. 

Alviss and Dellingr were the founders of the Broadbeams and Firebeards and awoke in the Blue Mountains.

Hermóðr and Forseti founded the Ironfists and Stiffbeards and awoke together. 

Meili and Vor were founders of the Stonefoots and Blacklocks and awoke together. 

Of course Durin I founded the Longbeards and awoke alone...