(no subject)
Carrot Ironfoundersson was a dwarf through and through.
And he still maintained that height had absolutely nothing to do with said dwarfhood, regardless of the fact that when he was a child, his father had nurtured high hopes that his adopted son would one day grow out of, well, the act of growing. And even more regardless of the fact that, when said growth spurt turned into a full blown growth gesier, he'd packed Carrot up1 and sent him to Ankh-Morpork, the greatest city on the Disc, to be with his kind.
It'd been easy right from the start to be well-received by the human population of Ankh-Morpork. Yet in order to be even moderately-received by the dwarf population, certain standards had to be maintained, specific traditions followed, and the City Watch Captain had done, and continued to do so gladly. Even on the island.
Because everyone knew that you could take the dwarf out of the mine, but you couldn't take the mine out of the dwarf.
Which was one of the reasons why he preferred to observe the rite of j'kargra in the deep down black of the caves. He spent all of the morning with one of his felling axe clutched in his hand, ceremonially chipping away at a stalagmite while he recited the Drudak'ak Grad'karak Y'gruz Rag until he could swear he heard the knockermen feeling their way through the dark, a recitation that, if written down, would fill thousands and thousands of sheets of paper.2
And when he'd resurfaced hours later, feeling much shorter than he had in a very long time, it was to the relative peace of the jungle. To the trained watchman's ears the delightfully charming chirping sounds were somewhat suspicious, but hardly conclusive.
So Carrot did what any copper would do during a time when emotions were running high and people were reporting visions to their friendly neighborhood watch.
He walked. And then he walked some more, keeping a fairly open mind in regards to what he might find, ready and willing to deal accordingly should it find him rather than the other way around.
But what he wasn't prepared for, what Carrot never expected to find, was a mine waiting to be dug, a shaft begging to be built. There was something bright and shiny winking at him from a deep crack at the base of the mountain, catching the rays of afternoon sunlight in a way that implied the sound of an operatic chorus3 singing infinitely ethereal rounds of Glory *Insert Non-Religious-Word Here*
Picking his way through scattered leaves and thick underbrush, Carrot moved in close and quietly touched the blade of his holstered felling axe in awe.
Apparently, someone had gotten it wrong. You really couldn't take the dwarf out of the mine.
It was then, in that moment, that Carrot Ironfoundersson began to hatch a Plan.4
1. Complete with the infamously large Protective, a piece of cherished equipment that was singlehandedly responsible for 50% of his dating history.
2. Dwarfs aren't religious, but the way they feel about gold comes pretty damned close.
3. Heavy with the falsetto, easy on the baritone.
4. Oh, it's just too easy. Beware the Thinking Man, etc. etc
And he still maintained that height had absolutely nothing to do with said dwarfhood, regardless of the fact that when he was a child, his father had nurtured high hopes that his adopted son would one day grow out of, well, the act of growing. And even more regardless of the fact that, when said growth spurt turned into a full blown growth gesier, he'd packed Carrot up1 and sent him to Ankh-Morpork, the greatest city on the Disc, to be with his kind.
It'd been easy right from the start to be well-received by the human population of Ankh-Morpork. Yet in order to be even moderately-received by the dwarf population, certain standards had to be maintained, specific traditions followed, and the City Watch Captain had done, and continued to do so gladly. Even on the island.
Because everyone knew that you could take the dwarf out of the mine, but you couldn't take the mine out of the dwarf.
Which was one of the reasons why he preferred to observe the rite of j'kargra in the deep down black of the caves. He spent all of the morning with one of his felling axe clutched in his hand, ceremonially chipping away at a stalagmite while he recited the Drudak'ak Grad'karak Y'gruz Rag until he could swear he heard the knockermen feeling their way through the dark, a recitation that, if written down, would fill thousands and thousands of sheets of paper.2
And when he'd resurfaced hours later, feeling much shorter than he had in a very long time, it was to the relative peace of the jungle. To the trained watchman's ears the delightfully charming chirping sounds were somewhat suspicious, but hardly conclusive.
So Carrot did what any copper would do during a time when emotions were running high and people were reporting visions to their friendly neighborhood watch.
He walked. And then he walked some more, keeping a fairly open mind in regards to what he might find, ready and willing to deal accordingly should it find him rather than the other way around.
But what he wasn't prepared for, what Carrot never expected to find, was a mine waiting to be dug, a shaft begging to be built. There was something bright and shiny winking at him from a deep crack at the base of the mountain, catching the rays of afternoon sunlight in a way that implied the sound of an operatic chorus3 singing infinitely ethereal rounds of Glory *Insert Non-Religious-Word Here*
Picking his way through scattered leaves and thick underbrush, Carrot moved in close and quietly touched the blade of his holstered felling axe in awe.
Apparently, someone had gotten it wrong. You really couldn't take the dwarf out of the mine.
It was then, in that moment, that Carrot Ironfoundersson began to hatch a Plan.4
1. Complete with the infamously large Protective, a piece of cherished equipment that was singlehandedly responsible for 50% of his dating history.
2. Dwarfs aren't religious, but the way they feel about gold comes pretty damned close.
3. Heavy with the falsetto, easy on the baritone.
4. Oh, it's just too easy. Beware the Thinking Man, etc. etc