misbehavingmaiar:

classyshippingblog:

#This dwarf is the most badass dwarf in the entire film #Look at that shit he doesn’t even blink #The only reason Sauron didn’t try to pull his shit sooner is because this guy was still alive #Because this guy would’ve picked up that glowing eyeball shit #And SMASHED IT BETWEEN BIG FUCK OFF HAMMERSWITH HIS BARE HANDS

-(via thedrunkenrat)

Gracious, little Khuzd! There are less hazardous ways to compress an ingot!

I’m much more impressed with the technology it took to even make a forging press with dies that large! But it does seem like a colossal waste of energy to have them swing down like that, for then you must surely have to raise them up again, and I see no mechanism with which to do this quickly… Your metal will cool and scale before you have time to apply the press again. There must be a more efficient way…

*strokes beard and begins sketching designs* 

misbehavingmaiar:

maire-annatari:

John Howe has sketched a portrait of Melkor.  Probably at that moment when the Balrogs heard his screaming and drove off Ungoliant.  

“…Ungoliant had grown great, and he less by the power that had gone out of him; and she rose against him, and her cloud closed about him, and she enmeshed him in a web of clinging thongs to strangle him. Then Morgoth sent forth a terrible cry that echoed in the mountains. Therefore that region was called Lammoth; for the echoes of his voice dwelt there ever after, so that any who cried aloud in that land awoke them, and all the waste between the hills and the sea was filled with a clamour as of voices in anguish. The cry of Morgoth in that hour was the greatest and most dreadful that was ever heard in the northern world; the mountains shook, and the earth trembled, and rocks were riven asunder. Deep in forgotten places that cry was heard. Far beneath the ruined halls of Angband, in vaults to which the Valar in the haste of their assault had not descended, Balrogs lurked still, awaiting ever the return of their Lord; and now swiftly they arose, and passing over Hithlum they came to Lammoth as a tempest of fire. With their whips of flame they smote asunder the webs of Ungoliant, and she quailed, and turned to flight, belching black vapours to cover her…”  (Silmarillion Chapter 9, Of the Flight of the Noldor and the Screaming Fits of Dark Lords.)

*________* I DID NOT KNOW THAT JOHN HOWE HAD DRAWN A MELKOR. ❤ ❤ ❤ Oh, my heart!  The writhing seas, the smoking, razor backed mountains, the shadowy dragons! And his hand! That expression!   And all in that misty silver graphite… *sigh* 

Some deep-seated part of me still recognizes Howe’s illustrations as somehow authoritatively “WHAT MIDDLE EARTH LOOKS LIKE”, and the rest of me just acknowledges that he is A Damn Fine Illustrator and his pencil work makes me want to turn in my sketchbooks and lie down for a long time. 

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started