Have fun reading!
DWARVES: The People of the Mountains
An excerpt from a letter written to his counterparts at the Prime University about his travels through the mountains of the Dwarves, by Harun Bryn; Imperial Historian.
Dwarves are a remarkable people, and their culture is very unique. One thing that many other races, including myself, find extremely disturbing is the fact that the everyone has beards, be they females or males. I have overheard many a man wonder out loud how in the world there are ever little dwarves! However, to the dwarven male there is no confusion when it comes to finding out if his fellow dwarf is female or not, because each of the sexes has a distinct scent; un-detectable by other races. (Many elves attest that they can smell this unique scent too, however they describe it in very colourful terms.)
Aside from the smell, we find that the differences between the female culture and male culture almost non-existent. A large part of any race's culture are the jobs and professions that they deem important, and for the dwarven race there are four jobs that define them; being mining, smelting, blacksmithing, and gem cutting, at which they are un-deniably the best in the known world. All of these professions can be used in the making of fine weaponry, and it is said weapons made by a Dwarven master blacksmith will not break but my magical means. Rightly so, these weapons demand large sums and fuel the Dwarven economy.
When not at work, the Dwarven people are a very jovial bunch and spend their free time at local taverns drinking and playing games. Perhaps one of the most pervasive dwarven product after weaponry are their strong spirits, renowned for their ability to send one out of consciousness. While under the influence of these strong drinks, there are many games that they play. Most of these games consist of hurling heavy objects the farthest, or using their massive war axes to cleave objects in two. Once, during my travels, I even saw these two types of games combined. It was an axe throwing contest, and a log was stationed 15 feet away at first, and got progressively farther away. Each time, the log would be struck and literally explode on impact! Surely, I would never want to be on the wrong end of these people's might.
Once I was even lucky enough to be lodged in a dwarven family's home. The family was rather large, and were a very close-knit unit, almost like a clan of sorts. The children of this family were still rather young, they had but stubble on their chins. I spent several nights with the family, and when we would get back from the tavern, the family would share a small meal consisting of a meat a vegetable stew, and bread. Though the stew was tolerable, the bread seemed to be as hard as the rock that surrounded us! Upon my parting, the mother gave me several loves of bread, and I could not refuse, for this would be a direct insult. She told me that the bread would never grow stale, and no wonder! I doubt it can get any harder!
