You look and see a dwarf standing 5' tall and almost as wide across,
corded muscles rippling and bulging with the slightest movement. On
his right arm are four livid scars
running raggedly from his elbow down to his ham-like fists. You are
sure that whatever weapons or claws did that laid him down to the bone,
but his stance suggests he is unconcerned.
Looking up into his face is a contrast in itself. Ice-blue
eyes stare from within fiercely red bushy eyebrows,
but they seem to have the innocence, the trusting look of a child. Focusing
again you are surprised that you never realised his hair
and plaited beard are not red like his brows, nor black as
you thought, but dyed a deep blue, the effect dragging you back again
into twin glaciers that seem to twinkle with merriment. He is smiling
at you, and you hope that is a good thing...
See a picture of Malachim
with a jackalwere
See a picture of Malachim
in a swamp
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