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[Feb. 26th, 2011|08:46 pm] |
*following through with his request, has gone with Aulendil to a point somewhere in Ossiriand's rich green wilderness, where he's spent all day attempting to complete a task that apparently every one of Aulë's Maiar could do within a week of embodiment on Arda: namely, raise a hill* *a structurally solid, geologically consistent, aesthetically pleasing hill*
*would be satisfied with just structurally solid, at this point—thus far, he's melted three good-sized patches of bedrock into magma and has reduced quite a lot of grass to cinders (wince)* *did manage, once, to pull up a vaguely hill-like structure, but that instantly collapsed into the sinkhole left beneath*
*drops his hands to his sides as another swath of grass bursts into flames* *extinguishes the blaze and sighs, turning to his companion* All right. What did I do that time? The soil doesn't want to budge all at once, no matter how I Sing at it. |
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determined