Bianca-Hooks123

As for the differences in how Dan looks, it is the show standard light bluish-green skin, with pointed ears, fangs, and white flame hair. But Dan can shape shift to make himself look human, in the show he made himself look like Danny, but I imagine he can do his own look too.

Then when the first Robin shows up, Dan gives him a look.

Some time ago Laura got in touch with me to get a translation for a tattoo. 

I sent her the translation and transcription and obligatory heads-up about it being Neo-Khuzdul, she was happy with that and soon after receiving the translation she got the tattoo done.

Recently she showed me the result, a fantastic tattoo I must say!

The text reads in Moria script:

“Guide me Raven’s Wing I shall follow you home”

- or “Idninê Gaihûkark zâgjijizu azhâr”  in Neo-Khuzdul

Over a decade ago I wrote an article about dwarven women, children, and reproduction, arguing that Dwarves likely experienced a longer pregnancy than Men. It was necessarily speculative, but grounded in Tolkien’s remarks about dwarven rarity, slow population growth, and their generally conservative, enduring nature.

Since then, I have revisited the question repeatedly, rethinking parts of the argument and refining others. The result is not a reversal, but a correction in scale.

The core idea still holds: dwarven pregnancy was likely longer than that of Men. What no longer seems necessary or particularly well supported are the most extreme estimates. A more moderate conclusion fits Tolkien’s text, internal chronology, and biological plausibility far better.

In short, a gestation period of roughly sixteen to seventeen months emerges as the most defensible estimate. Long enough to mark Dwarves as biologically distinct and slow to replenish, short enough to avoid demographic or narrative complications.

This conclusion also aligns well with other aspects of dwarven portrayal, including their reduced sexual dimorphism to outside observers, the fact that all Dwarves are bearded from birth (including females), and the strong cultural emphasis placed on marriage and children. None of this requires exotic or magical biology, only a slightly different balance of development and timing.

Because the full argument is quite long and detailed, it is not particularly suited to Tumblr’s format. I have therefore published a much more extensive version elsewhere, where I go into the biological reasoning, comparative examples, and textual implications in greater depth.

If this topic interests you, you can find the full article here: 👉 [Link to Full Article]

As always, this is extrapolation rather than certainty. Tolkien left us few hard facts. But with care, it is still possible to build a model that fits both the lore and a sense of internal coherence.

Well met! After many messages, questions, and (at times not so) quiet suffering, the Excel-based dictionaries have been taken offline and replaced with a temporary online dictionary search tool.

Yes. No more scrolling. No more search issues. No more PCs freezing at 1 a.m. after loading a file for over half an hour.

The Full and Compressed Excel dictionaries are currently being updated and reworked. This will eventually result in a new, integrated dictionary tool hosted directly on the website. Until that work is finished, the online search fills the gap nicely.

The current search tool is a community contribution by Maciej Suski and is hosted on his own site, not on The Dwarrow Scholar website. It offers fast, clean access to the Neo-Khuzdul dictionary without the need to wrestle spreadsheets into submission.

Note, however, that the results still reflect the data from the existing Excel-based dictionaries. The dictionary update, along with the new integrated tool, will follow later, as mentioned. All part of the overhaul happening now on the library section of the site.

Consider this a temporary solution, but a very welcome one. And yes, I know that for some of you this answers prayers long whispered into the void of Excel.

Shamukh! Thank you for the kind words, and for the excellent questions. I get variations of these fairly regularly, so it’s good to finally put the answers together in one place.

Thorin’s shout in the opening scene

I assume you are referring to the moment early in the film, just shortly before Smaug enters the mountain, when Thorin Oakenshield shouts a command to the troops.

What Thorin shouts there is therkâ.

The base form here is therek, meaning “firm,” “fast,” or “steady.” Normally, one would expect a direct imperative such as ikhlitî (“hold!”), or possibly ikhlitî therek (“hold firm!”). However, therek can also be pluralised, resulting in therkâ.

Using a plural adjective in Neo-Khuzdul is somewhat unusual, but it does occur when one explicitly wants to state that every individual in a group possesses the quality being expressed. In effect, this functions as something like “Hold firm, every single one of you. Do not move.” Given the urgency of the situation and the fact that Thorin is addressing multiple defenders at once, the usage makes sense, even if it is stylistically marked.

Bifur’s line to Gandalf

The second line you ask about, spoken by Bifur to Gandalf at the very beginning of the film, is a much trickier case.

According to William Kircher, the intended meaning of the line was roughly:

“Our great leader is not here,” with Bifur gesturing to his left forearm, referring to Thorin Oakenshield. Gandalf’s reply (“Yes, you’re quite right, Bifur. We appear to be one dwarf short.”) clearly supports that intended meaning.

However, when we listen closely to what is actually spoken, things become far less clear.

Personally, I consistently hear something along the lines of ’ut bayana aimâ ut karibâ, while in the behind-the-scenes Appendices (Part 8) I seem to hear maimâ ut karimâ instead (audio clips below).

At first glance, most of these forms look like gibberish, and they certainly do not straightforwardly translate as “Our great leader is not here.” That said, it is still worth examining the pieces.

ut can be identified as the infinitive “to be.”

bayana does not correspond to any radical set I recognise, but it bears a very loose phonetic resemblance to zayara, meaning “he is present” or “he is here.”

This raises the possibility that what we are hearing as ut may in fact be lu, meaning “not.” That would move the sense closer to “he is not here.” This is not as far-fetched as it may sound, since David Salo provided ekûn lu zayara (“There is one missing”) as a translated line for the film.

Alternatively, one could consider a construction such as … zayara ma aimâ …, using ma as an archaic negative.

As for aimâ, one could analyse this as ai-mâ (“upon us”), but ya mâ (“with us”) seems the more likely candidate, even though one would normally expect zai rather than ya for this type of “with.”

I briefly entertained the idea that aimâ might relate to 'aimu (“voyage”), as in “he is not with us on this voyage,” but that makes even less sense in context.

This leaves us with ut karimâ, which is difficult to justify directly. The closest defensible reconstruction I can arrive at is kharmmâ (“our brother”), combined with ut as “is.”

Putting all of this together, the best possible reconstruction, while admittedly strained, would be something like: ut zayara ma, ya-mâ, ut kharmmâ “He is not present, with us, (he) is our brother.”

This is not elegant Neo-Khuzdul, and it requires some awkward manoeuvring to reach the intended meaning, but it is the closest I can get while still respecting known forms. It is worth adding that Salo has noted that kharm “brother” can extend beyond literal siblings and be used for a kinsman or fellow Dwarf. Under that broader reading, the term would still be applicable here, despite Bifur and Thorin not belonging to the same family line or clan.

Crucially, the word “leader” itself poses a major problem. Any Khuzdul term for “lord” or “leader” would normally rely on the ZBD radical set, and those elements are entirely absent from what Bifur actually says. For that reason alone, I do not believe the spoken line was ever meant to be linguistically precise.

In other words, this appears to be performance Neo-Khuzdul rather than structurally grounded Neo-Khuzdul, something we do encounter from time to time in the Hobbit films.

Incidentally, Bifur does use fully recognisable Neo-Khuzdul elsewhere, for example khuzd belkul, meaning “a mighty dwarf” (khuzd “dwarf,” belkul “mighty”).

In short

Thorin’s shout (therkâ) is meaningful and linguistically interpretable.

Bifur’s early line has a clear intended meaning, but the spoken form resists clean analysis. Any exact translation of that line must therefore remain tentative.

Thank you again for listening closely enough to notice these details.

I would certainly appreciate any input you might have!

Well met! Because you’re talking about a hammer used in battle, the first thing to be careful about is which Khuzdul word for “hammer” we’re dealing with. English collapses a lot of nuance here that Khuzdul does not.

Choosing the right word for “hammer”

There are several relevant terms:

bekhaz — a hammer in the general sense, a simple hammer

bakhz — a war hammer, specifically a large, two-handed hammer used in combat

telakh — a smith’s hammer (ball-peen type), tied to craftsmanship rather than warfare, and related to tulkh “smith,” ultimately connected to the legendary smith Telchar (Telkhar "supreme smith")

A beautiful drawing of Telchar forging Narsíl - by Linda Nordberg - for the Annals of the Dwarves.

Since this hammer becomes her weapon of choice in battle, bakhz is by far the most appropriate base term. Bekhaz would feel too generic, and telakh would strongly imply a forge or smithing context rather than combat.

Adjectives that work well in titles

For epithets or monikers, these adjectives fit particularly well:

balikh — strong

belkul — mighty

gabil — great

êrazul — crushing

Because you’re forming a name or title, the structure is adjective + noun, rather than the more usual general descriptive order (which is the other way around). This is the same pattern we see in names like Sigin-tarâg (“Long-beards”).

So examples could be:

Belkul-bakhz — “Mighty Hammer”

Êrazul-bakhz — “Crushing Hammer”

Gabil-bakhz — “Great Hammer”

All of these would read naturally as earned battle epithets rather than casual descriptions.

Onomatopoeia is trickier, but not impossible.

I have introduced several sound-imitating forms in the (to-be-published) dictionary, mostly for animal noises. For a heavy hammer blow, while staying within permissible Neo-Khuzdul phonology, something like bôm works quite well.

It avoids collision with existing roots and uses the long ô, which is relatively rare and gives the word a satisfying weight. A nickname or epithet built around that could feel very organic.

In short

Consider using bakhz as your base (for a battle hammer)

Form titles as adjective + noun

Sound-based names are possible, but should stay phonologically restrained

Well met,

Thank you for the question. I had not previously come across Alexander Bazarov or his work, so, per your request, I took a look at his translations, in this case the one he provided for Far over the Misty Mountains Cold.

First, an important clarification: his version is not Dwarrow Scholar Neo-Khuzdul, nor does he claim that it is. He presents his work under the label “Khuzdul (reconstruction).”

From what I can see, his version appears to be an entirely independent Dwarvish-inspired conlang. It differs fundamentally from the Neo-Khuzdul I have developed in many ways and uses phonemes not attested in Tolkien’s Khuzdul, such as p, as well as diphthongs like au and ei. A Semitic-style root system may be present, but it is employed in a way that is not immediately recognisable within the more conservative radical-based framework I use.

That does not make it “wrong.” It simply means it is operating under a different system and methodology.

In my own Neo-Khuzdul work, I aim to remain within relatively strict boundaries, staying close to Tolkien’s attested phonology, building primarily from known radicals, and extending the system in a way that remains structurally consistent with the small body of material he left us.

So when you compare, for example: Original Tolkien: Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old The Dwarrow Scholar Neo-Khuzdul: Udlag uru malasul’abbad kall Du khaffad buzrâ r’agâr gamil Alexander Bazarov's "Khuzdul (reconstruction)": Aifal ainad-Khishbanâd khel Aitumundûm kagamilfêl.

It becomes instantly clear that we are dealing with two different approaches to constructing Dwarvish.

While I can recognise some of Tolkien’s original words in his work, the combinations and additional elements introduced are not always transparent to me.

For instance, he appears to use “ai” (on/upon), “tumun” (hollow), and “dûm” (halls), forming something like Aitumundûm, which would literally read as “upon hollow-halls.” This seems intended as his rendering of “to dungeons deep", which is a bit puzzling to me.

I am fairly certain this does not correspond to the second half of the line, “and caverns old,” since the attested word “gamil” (old) appears elsewhere in his translation as part of kagamilfêl. This suggests that “ka” may be functioning as a conjunction, equivalent to “and,” and that “fêl” may represent “caverns.”

While I can identify individual Tolkien-derived elements, the way they are combined here does not immediately reflect a derivational logic aligned with the more conservative Semitic radical-based extension I employ in Neo-Khuzdul.

The label Alexander Bazarov uses, “Khuzdul (reconstruction),” is, in my view, somewhat terminologically ambiguous. It may suggest a level of direct continuity with Tolkien’s attested material that is difficult to substantiate given the extremely limited corpus we actually possess.

That does not invalidate his effort. Translating Tolkien’s works into a Dwarvish-inspired language is a valid creative endeavour.

It is also worth noting that this is not the first alternative Dwarvish to be created, nor will it be the last. Over the years, various versions have appeared for games, television series, adaptations, and personal projects. Many have come and gone. All of them represent creative efforts to give voice to Tolkien’s Dwarves, and that creative impulse is something to be applauded.

As for myself, I will continue, as I have for nearly three decades, developing and refining my own Neo-Khuzdul within the framework I have outlined. Those who find value in it are welcome to use it. Others are equally free to adopt a different rendition.

To answer your question, “How correct is his Neo-Khuzdul compared to your own work?” — it is not a matter of correctness within Neo-Khuzdul at all, I'm afraid. It is a different system entirely, developed independently and according to different principles.

I heard "The Lament of Dís" (Ô, Kurduwê) on your YouTube channel, it's beautiful.

It's there more songs in Khuzdul? (I see three there)

Shamukh,

That is a bit of a longer story.

About five years ago, I started working on an album of Dwarvish music titled A Willing Heart (Songs in Dwarvish). I had several songs arranged and wrote the lyrics for them. “Ô, Kurduwê” (The Lament of Dís) was one of those.

The original idea was to release the songs one by one on YouTube. However, that plan was cut short for a few reasons.

One of the singers I had planned to work with, a close friend of mine, passed away suddenly. That, understandably, took much of the appetite away to continue the project at the time. On top of that, YouTube effectively defunded the channel out of pretty much nowhere, which, even if it was never about the money, nor that I earned much to begin with, did take some of the motivation out of continuing there. And finally, other projects began taking up more and more time, especially the live lessons and the dictionary work.

I did, however, release three songs in total, and I still intend to return to the album one day and finish the remaining ones and getting the album on Spotify as well (as some have requested).

The other two songs currently on YouTube are: “Ra Harammâ” (And We Praise) – a Dwarvish choir piece.

and “Khama Lu Mêmari!’('Cause We Aren’t Leaving!)” – a tavern song

Well met Darthmaulius!

First of all, I am truly sorry for your loss. Marking something like this, especially in a form that will stay with you for life, is not a small thing. It says a great deal about the bond you shared, and the fact that you both connected over Tolkien makes it all the more fitting to honour it in this way.

Before answering your question directly, though, it is worth briefly looking at how dates would normally be expressed.

In Neo-Khuzdul, a full spoken date would typically be rendered in full, for example: “the seventh day on the first moon of the year two thousand twenty-third”. So, as you can see, this uses ordinal forms (seventh, first, third), rather than cardinal numbers. However, Dwarves are nothing if not practical.

Carving runes into stone takes time and effort, and writing out full dates in words would be highly impractical when a simpler system already exists. Since numerical runes are available, a Dwarf would almost certainly use those instead. Much like their general number writing, dates would be written from small to large, meaning: day – month – year

So your dates, 29/08/2007 and 20/01/2023, would follow that day-month-year structure when written in runes.

One important note here though, J.R.R. Tolkien never published a full runic numbering system for the Cirth. However, in the inscriptions from the Book of Mazarbul, certain characters are clearly used to represent numbers.

A page from Tolkien's book of Mazarbul and in the top right corner you can see an arrow-upward-shaped rune, a three-legged rune, if you will, simply meaning "3". The numerical system I use is based on those examples and expanded consistently from them. So what you are getting is not something arbitrarily invented, but a system grounded in Tolkien’s material and extended consistently. 29/08/2007 (written as: 92 8 7002)

You will notice that, although it is possible to write the rune for “zero” (like the other rendering below), it is not used here (because it is not needed, as 08 = 8). Also, the days, months, and years are separated with a dot (space), just like words would be. And, like a line, you start and end with three dots. The main thing you'll notice though is that the numbers seem to be written "back-to-front", 29 is 92, 2007 is 7002 - this is again related to putting the smallest unit of each element first. 20/01/2023 (written as: 02 1 3202)

If you would prefer to use standard number ordering, I would recommend downloading the free Dwarvish font available in the library section of my site: https://www.dwarrowscholar.com/library.html

Well met,

Thank you for that question.

Before anything else, a small clarification. The idea of “stone-sense” is not an official term in Tolkien’s writings, so its exact meaning is open to interpretation. That said, the general idea is clear enough, a heightened awareness or affinity with stone, something many readers intuitively associate with Dwarves.

To answer the question properly, we first need to take a step back and look at what concrete actually is, and whether it even fits within a Middle-earth context.

Concrete, in its most effective historical form, was developed and widely used by the Ancient Romans. Their mixture of lime, water, and volcanic ash produced a material that could set underwater and endure for centuries. After the fall of Rome, much of that knowledge was largely lost in Europe. Lime mortars continued to be used throughout the Middle Ages, but true high-quality concrete was not widely reproduced in the same way.

Middle-earth, while not a direct analogue, broadly reflects a pre-modern, largely medieval level of technology. Based on Tolkien’s writings, it does not appear to have concrete in the modern, poured sense.

That said, the most advanced civilisation in Middle-earth, the Númenóreans, possessed building techniques that far exceeded ordinary masonry. Structures such as Minas Tirith and Orthanc, built by the Faithful of Númenor, are described as having an almost impervious strength. In some cases, the stone is described as vitreous, almost glass-like, and in the case of Orthanc, possibly formed as a single mass.

"Orthanc in the Second Age" by Ted Nasmith This suggests not poured concrete, but something closer to fused or vitrified stone, achieved through methods, whether technological or “magical,” that were later lost. By the Third Age, this knowledge had faded, and even the people of Gondor could only maintain such structures, not recreate them. So even at the height of human craftsmanship in Middle-earth, we do not see the use of mundane, reconstituted concrete, but rather something far more refined, and, crucially, still respecting the integrity of stone rather than reducing it to aggregate.

Concrete is, at its core, reconstituted stone, broken down, mixed, poured, and set. It lacks the internal integrity, grain, and natural formation of true stone. To a human, that difference is mostly structural or aesthetic. To a Dwarf, it would likely be far more fundamental. The grain, the pressure lines, the history of its formation, these are part of how stone is understood. Concrete, by contrast, has no geological story. It is assembled rather than formed.

We see in Tolkien’s work that mountains themselves are, at times, treated as if they possess will and temperament. Consider Gimli’s view of Caradhras, known to the Dwarves as Barazinbar, “the Redhorn.” He does not describe the storm on the mountain as mere weather, but as the mountain’s ill will. Caradhras “does not love Elves and Dwarves,” and “has not forgiven” those who attempt to cross it. In that moment, the mountain is not a passive backdrop, but an active, living force.

The Pass of Caradhras in Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings

If one follows that line of thought, stone is not inert in Dwarven perception. It carries memory, presence, perhaps even a form of being. From that perspective, the act of grinding stone down, breaking it apart, and reforming it into concrete could be seen as something more than a practical process. It becomes, in a sense, the destruction of that integrity, the killing of the stone’s being.

Concrete, then, would not simply be “artificial stone.” It would be dead stone.

So would Dwarves hate it, if it existed?

“Hate” may be too strong, but they would almost certainly distrust it, and perhaps even regard it with a degree of unease. Not because it feels “fuzzy” like sand, but because it would feel mute, unresponsive, stripped of the depth and resonance of true stone.

And if it did exist, I doubt very much any Dwarf would choose to use it.

Dwarves, as Tolkien presents them, are masters of stonecraft. They shape stone to their will rather than dissolving and reforming it. The idea of grinding down good stone only to reassemble it into a homogenised material would likely strike them as wasteful at best, and a betrayal of the stone at worst.

In short: I doubt it existed in Middle-earth, but if it did, to a Dwarf, concrete would not feel like sand, but neither would it feel like stone. It would feel like stone that has lost its life.

Well met,

After a great deal of work behind the scenes, I’m very pleased to share that the Neo-Khuzdul Beginner Course will soon be available through Patreon.

The first lesson will be released on May 24th, with a new lesson following each week.

This is a fully structured course of nine lessons, designed to guide you from the very foundations of the language to practical use. It includes detailed documents, audio segments, and a wide range of exercises, with the option to receive personal feedback along the way.

Whether you are new to Neo-Khuzdul or looking to revisit and strengthen your understanding, I look forward to finally sharing this with you.

Well met!

Good question, thank you for that. I had a bit of a think about this, using the same logic I’ve once used for general terms of endearment for lovers/partners as seen HERE.

This is what I came up with:

Dwarvish children also have beards (like all dwarves they are born with them) so a few terms of endearment in reference to their beard:

turgarug (”tiny beard”, “beardy”)

targ mim (”little beard”)

targ rakl (”precious beard”)

Now for some thought about their height perhaps. Even when little, dwarves are stout and fierce, hence this came to mind:

gamzûn / gamzûna (”he/she that is fierce”) - providing your little dwarf that extra confidence boost they need when they are playing “chop the orc neck” with their little wooden axe.

himrûn / himrûna (”he/she that is short”/”shorty”) - might seem a bit harsh, but it is not unusual for cultures to give children an unflattering nickname. The traditional belief in many of these cultures it that such unflattering nicknames would ward off evil. Seeing that dwarves are so protective of their offspring, I would not rule out the same logic here. 

Lastly, some nicknames that do not fit the above categories:

gulmalûm (”tiny sparkle”) - referring to the love dwarves have for gems.

asmâk-karf (”morsel”, “delicacy”) - when your little dwarf is soo cute, you could just gobble them up.

sulkhalûkh (”tiny desolation”, “tiny dragon”) - let’s face it, little dwarves are more than a handful and frequently destroy your hall. It’s all part of the growing years, so you might as well embrace it.

Ever at your service,

birdflash winding down

The irresistible urge to clone ur dead clone best friend….