Almost complete
I like dwarves. Osgiliath is nearly back to its former glory, and all it took was gold, ale, and the occasional generous workers' comp pay-out. Tomorrow, I've been told, they plan to hammer in the last keystone over the main gates and then throw a party until nobody's left standing. Excellent people, those dwarves. Aule, I salute you.
Apparently they don't teach geography in Middle-Earth anymore, though, because I've been asked several times now "Where's Osgiliath?" ... WHERE'S OSGILIATH?! *fumes* Where it's always been: spanning the bloody Anduin right across from the bloody black tower of bloody Mordor! Here, you ill-bred Philistines:
If you're still not clear, ask Faramir -- he's the one who lost it in the first place.
As for personal matters, I don't hear any more banging or sobbing coming from the room Beruthiel has locked herself into, and she's been deigning to accept meals. Right then. TOMORROW WE TALK, WOMAN! IF I HAVE TO BREAK THE DAMN DOOR DOWN!
...
There's a kitten on my leg AGAIN.
Apparently they don't teach geography in Middle-Earth anymore, though, because I've been asked several times now "Where's Osgiliath?" ... WHERE'S OSGILIATH?! *fumes* Where it's always been: spanning the bloody Anduin right across from the bloody black tower of bloody Mordor! Here, you ill-bred Philistines:
If you're still not clear, ask Faramir -- he's the one who lost it in the first place.
As for personal matters, I don't hear any more banging or sobbing coming from the room Beruthiel has locked herself into, and she's been deigning to accept meals. Right then. TOMORROW WE TALK, WOMAN! IF I HAVE TO BREAK THE DAMN DOOR DOWN!
...
There's a kitten on my leg AGAIN.