All dwarves cherish their beards, even more so than the axes in their hands, and this affection is deeply ingrained in their aesthetics. It is said that when dwarves choose a mate, the first thing they look at is the beard.
A dwarf without a beard is a very strange sight. Forcibly shaving a dwarf's beard is the greatest humiliation one could inflict upon him—a disgrace that only blood can wash away.
Leading at the very front was a quintessential dwarf: stout and burly, with not a single hair left on his head. Under the glow of the Everbright Flame torches, his bald scalp gleamed, but a dense mass of beard flowed down to his belly. This beard was meticulously groomed, braided into five bundles adorned with numerous beard rings. Yet the marks of time were impossible to hide—his beard was entirely white, and his forehead bore deep, chiseled wrinkles, so pronounced that they looked as if they could trap a fly.
