milliways_bar | (no subject)

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There is quiet, for a time, when Gimli is away at Mount Etna studying smithcraft with Hephaestos.

This is not one of those times. Right now there is quite a lot of loose stone flying about, although this is all outside the bar and quite a ways off from the immediate area of the lake. Which is good, really.

Still, that's hungry work, so Gimli is putting in an appearance at the Bar proper to get some real breakfast before he does any further quarrywork.

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Gimli shakes his head. "I've no idea how the Ents have their Entings," he says, "or there'd be some comparison- but there's been no new ones of their kind in many an age, regardless."

He then smiles a bit. "Shouldn't be surprised at all if that were so," he says. "It sounds the sort of thing I could see stone doing."

"Indeed," Naraht agrees. "Some historians and comparative sociologists in the Federation are fond of saying that we 'create our gods in our own image'. But I find the assumption in that statement that our deities are nothing more than figments of our collective imagination to be somewhat narrow-minded."

He snorts. "Some things you just have to know. You can't prove them and probably shouldn't try. As Surak said, 'there are some things for which logic is useless.'"

"Don't know about your gods, lad, but I met mine, and the rest of his kindred besides. There's been no Durin reborn in my lifetime, though, and I expect there won't be again for generations yet."

He shakes his head and glances at the stones already quarried- they're finer and more solid by far than any one of a dozen structures' foundation-stones he could think of. "Surak- would that be one of your folk's historians?"

"You have?!"

Congratulations, Gimli. You just shocked the Horta. Naraht stops cold in his work. "How? Did they bring you to this place? You...this may be a rude question, sir, but did you die before coming here or did they meet with you while you were still alive? We believe that when we die, we return to the First Mother but...to actually see her before that moment..."

Gimli nods. "I have," he confirms quietly. "I'd lived near two hundred and fifty years in Middle-earth when my friend and boon companion, Legolas, did as all his folk would in the end. When he chose to sail west over the Sea and return to the Undying Lands where his people dwelled with the Valar- the Powers of our world, all fourteen of them- I went with him. I'd have been turned away at the shore were it not for the grace of the lady Galadriel, who was greatest among the Eldar and spoke for me. It was there that I met Mahal, and had the truth of my people's stories confirmed from him..." He shakes his head in wonderment. "A year by the reckoning of the Valar, but nine and a half or so by the reckoning of mortals such as myself, I dwelt there before my passing. I died there indeed, and came here instead of where the rest of my folk go."

Naraht lets out a low whistle. "By the Chamber of the Ages, Gimli! You have been blessed to see...well your Father in your mortal body. But if this isn't where your folk go, why were you sent here? I hardly believe someone capable of creating a race would so easily mislay one."

He turns back to his work. "As for Surak, no he's not one of our historians. Surak was a Vulcan. The founder of their philosophy of cthia: a life ruled by logic." He snorts softly. "And he came just in time, from what the historians say. The Vulcan's were dangerously close to exterminating themselves by waring with each other."

"Truth? I don't know," says Gimli, shaking his head. "I've a thought, though. It was said among my folk that at the end of our world, after the last battle's fought and all's said and done, Mahal would call on us again. That we spent our time of waiting after our deaths in halls he'd set aside for us in Mandos- the waiting-places of the dead in my world, Elves for the most part- learning craft and lore deeper than any we'd had in life. When I had the fortune beyond telling of meeting Mahal in Valinor, I asked him of this, and he said it was so. When the end comes for my world, and a new one's made, the Elves and the Men and maybe even the Hobbits will have a part in designing it- but we dwarves will work side by side with Mahal on the shaping and crafting thereof."

"I've come to think he sent me here to bring him back ideas that couldn't have ever come to be, in my world as it was. For the future of the next one."

Naraht chuckles. "That is certainly a logical reason. And a clever one. If that is your purpose here, Gimli, how goes the idea-gathering? I would think that there might be a slight overload problem given the nature of Milliways."

"Ah, well- it's started, that's about all I can say." Gimli laughs. "There's far too many floating about to get used to so quickly! Give me time, and I'll let you know when I've got it sorted."

"I can tell you one I idea I think you should take back," he says mischieviously. "More caves. Spectactular ones. With lots of little Horta to play in them."

"That," Gimli says, "was high on the list. Caves to begin with- your folk to come after. Seems the Ents were made after Mahal's spouse saw her beloved trees had no defense against axes. I daresay he'd fancy your kind nearly as much as Yavanna does the Ents, though for a different purpose."

Naraht makes a sweeping motion with whatever fringe is not occupied in helping cut the rock free in an approximation of a bow. "I can imagine. Thank you. Though I really should find a way to introduce you to some of the other silicon-based lifeforms I know. There's as much variety in our life as there is with you carbon-based people."

"That'd be other rock-folk like yourself, then? As opposed to those of us of flesh?" Gimli guesses. "That'd be a sight to see, right enough."

"Oh, yes...though many of them are more what you'd call crystal-folk I suppose....Watch out down there."

As Gimli moves back, Naraht shoves the next rock off it's ledge.

"I'm going to do my best to get K's't'lk here. She would absolutely love this place. She's a Hamalki. Looks like a meter-tall, twelve-legged spider made of glass."

Gimli's lips move several times over the name, and he eventually comes to a reasonably close pronunciation- there's enough K's and other such consonants in Khuzdul, though the glottal stops are a little tough. "And a meter is how long?" he asks, starting with the simplest incomprehensibility and working his way up.

"Mmmmm...about three feet by an old Terran system."

He looks Gimli over. "I estimate your height at 1 and one third meters."

"I see," says Gimli. "And... spider, you said? I hope the glass sort are better behaved than the real thing..."

Naraht is somewhat suprised. "I've never noticed much trouble from carbon-based spiders. Yes, some of them are quite poisonous to humans, but generally will not bite you unless threatened."

"But K's't'lk is quite a charming lady...even if she does see the universe at right angles to the rest of us."

((OOC: Let's wrap it here. I think we did pretty well, don't you? ))

"Yours don't come as large as the spiders of Middle-earth, then," says Gimli darkly. "There were spiders as large as I am in Mirkwood Forest, so I'm told. One of 'em nearly ate my father."

"I don't believe anyone ever used 'charming' about the Mirkwood spiders, though, so I'll take your word for it on K'tllk."

Well, he tried.

And a pretty damn good try it was. Few people get her name right on the first go.

"Oh dear. Those do sound nasty. Trust me, five minutes after meeting her, the farthest thing from your mind." He snickers a bit. "Of course, that might be because she's completely lost you in discussing her lastest project."

He finishes the latest block and surpresses a belch. "Hmmm...If you don't mind, Gimli, I think I'll take a short break. Need to let this digest a bit before I continue."

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