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The dwarf's voice was deep, old but still strong, and in no hurry to get the words out.
I turned to see a face much like I had drawn earlier, like weather-shaped stone. His hair was gray, and so were his eyes, and so was even his skin. His beard fell down past his barrel-chest and hard stomach to pool at the toes of his booted feet. His hair was sparse on top and stood out at crazy angles, as if he had just been doing experiments with static electricity before coming to speak to me.
"Hello," I said, not sure how exactly to address this man.
"We have food and drink prepared, if you will kindly follow me," he said with a little bow. He was speaking Villmarker Norse, but with an accent I had never heard before. The consonants were softer and the vowels more whispery than I was accustom
