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DF Community Games & Stories / On the Nature of Dwarves
« on: July 25, 2011, 10:42:33 pm »On the Nature of Dwarves
A study of the dwarven race, compiled from the notes of the legendary sage Nimir by the work of Althor the Narrow, scholar of Triador
ASSEMBLER'S FOREWORD: I was tasked by the Triadoran Senate to compile a set of books for study by its ambassadors on the various races and nations of our known world. Naturally, the priceless knowledge contained within the sage Nimir's personal library at Starhelm was my first choice for learning what would be needed to accomplish this task. The sage, always eager to help spread the accumulated knowledge of his life's journeys, was quick to respond to my request for access to his library, though he informed me he would not be on hand to aid in the task. He had chartered a ship for the Kerish Isles, and was intending to travel even further east, as pirates there frequently told stories about a strange land further out in the ocean that he dearly wished to explore for himself. I was thus left with only the sage's numerous ledgers, journals, notes, and musings to work with, but no sage to direct my understanding or transcriptions. I have done my very best to present the information found at Starhelm in an orderly manner and as complete as possible. My own opinions and additions (beyond slight reformatting and rewording to allow the miscellany of his work to fit together cohesively) will be clearly marked in the text that follows.
Introduction
Why are dwarves the way they are? We humans see a race of short, stocky, bearded folk who seem to love nothing in this world more than drink, digging, and violence. Indeed, to the lesser lived races such as man, they are utterly impenetrable: an enigma wrapped in a beard, their behavior incomprehensible and at times frustrating to ponder. Were we more narrow-minded creatures, we might suppose that dwarves are a race that care nothing for the outside world except to confound it for daring to try to make sense of them. This is altogether an unfair assessment, as I learned firsthand. I was privileged to spend a great deal of time among them, and feel it is my duty to share what I have learned. I do this that my fellow man may at last understand our subterranean allies. The simplest way is to simply begin with the dwarf himself, and move upwards from there to more complex issues. As for the dwarf itself, we shall proceed in a similar manner: start with the most superficial aspects and gradually move inwards to his very core.
Physiology
Dwarves are an unusual race to behold at first, and one marvels at them at various times for their seemingly incredible differences in physical being. However awe-inspiring the dwarven physique may be to a lay observer, dwarves are not like dragons: there is nothing magical or supernatural about their form and essence that lends them their features. Like man, dwarves are a mortal and mundane race though, also like man, one that is truly remarkable in said form and essence.
Your typical dwarf is approximately three and a half feet to four feet tall, not quite half the size of a man but substantially shorter even at their tallest. Dwarves are broadly built creatures, stout and sturdy and easily weigh as much as a full-grown human despite their reduced stature. Their limbs tend to be stout as well, thick with well-defined musculature. One notices, as a matter of course, that they tend to be hairier than humans. The body hair of a dwarf male is easily visible, and though their females, like ours, have less of it and finer hairs at that, they too are noticeably hairier than a human female. Dwarf males are famous for their long, thick beards and mustaches. Both men and women tend towards long hair that is also thick and lustrous. Rumors persist of bearded dwarven women, though I must state I've never seen any. I presume this to be simple bigotry and slander against them, perhaps perpetuated out of a desire to make them an object of ridicule. I personally suspect the elves may be involved in this, but I digress. Ed: Rumors of dwarven women bearing beards in other, remote and distant settlements cannot be verified, but the dwarves themselves will say nothing on the matter, as is typical of them on most dwarven matters. I consider it an open question, though Nimir does not. Regardless, it is fundamentally unimportant to the matters of diplomacy and understanding dwarves, and so I did not pursue the question further.
All of these are adaptations to life underground. Dwarves have, over the long centuries, had to tunnel further and further and as such have become quite an athletic race. Their muscles are both powerful and capable of incredible stamina; such is unsurprising in a race that bores through solid rock to build its homes. It is said that a dwarf miner in his prime (which lasts considerably longer than a human's) can dig through rock as a man does through earth and soil. I have witnessed this phenomena firsthand, and agree that the prowess of dwarven diggers is nothing short of breathtaking. Their hairy bodies suit them well in the caves and tunnels of their homes. The underground is a frequently dank place, shut off from the warm air and sun of the surface. Creatures abiding in the deep places of the world find the world constantly a chilly and clammy affair, but the protective insulation of body hair traps their body heat while keeping dew from forming on their skin and leaching away their warmth. The prominent, fleshy nose of a dwarf also helps to warm the air they breathe, further aiding in their comfortable existence in the deeps. Many marvel at just how pitch black a cavern can be, and wonder how a dwarf manages to see in the deep. It is said they have a cruder form of vision (like orcs and other fell creatures deeper beneath the world) that allows them to see in the most pitch-dark of places, albeit all is colorless and blurry. I'm not sure what amazing feature of their eyes manages this, nor could I verify it as the cities I was privileged to visit kept well-lit public areas at all hours. Lights were put out in private quarters for sleeping, and as such it was not the time for in depth questioning and examination.
Much of the life underground is fungal in nature. Hardly surprising; fungus thrives in wet and cold environments, and can grow and prosper without the life-giving sun or nutritious and soft soil that our surface flora require. However, fungi are frequently toxic: any mushroom-harvesting provincial can attest to the sundry risks involved in that trade. While we of the surface can avoid the issue with our abundance of crops, dwarves have no such luxury and must survive on the crops of the underworld, such as they are. The centuries of constant exposure to the various mushrooms and lichens of the caves has strengthened their constitutions in remarkable ways. The dwarven liver, I was amazed to learn, is much larger than a man's. Perhaps almost threefold in size, and all this in a creature that is, at best, pound-for-pound man's equal in mass. The liver is not just larger (which allows more function), but far more efficient and hardy than ours if empirical observation has anything to say on the matter. Lesser toxins and foul substances are harmless to a dwarf, and even more potent poisons struggle against their hardy substance. This allows them to safely enjoy their natural sources of food (I may point out here that it is not so toxic to kill a man, but humans among dwarves may find their stomachs in distress for some time until they adjust). Naturally, this also explains another of the dwarf's most obvious traits: love of drink. All creatures that taste the sweet effects of alcohol seem to enjoy forever after its artificial euphoria; dwarves are certainly no exception. However, their immensely sturdy livers, great muscular mass, and natural fortitude against toxins all combine to make intoxication a great challenge. Dwarves thus must partake of far more alcohol to feel its effects, and can enjoy much stouter brews and spirits than men as a matter of course.
How is it, one may wonder, that dwarves seem so at ease deep underground? How do they seem to know so innately whether their path is level or askew, and how is it they can reckon with startling precision their depth below the surface? Furthermore, how is it they seem to have a supernatural knack for discovering mineral wealth of all kinds? The answer is found deep within the dwarf's mind. It is no sorcery, but rather a remarkable adaptation that is so minute, the dwarves themselves only recently (by their reckoning) managed to understand it. It is said that dwarves have metal on the brain, and this lay statement finds itself in unusually close proximity to the truth. Dwarves do in fact have quantities of that most uncanny substance, magnetite, within their brains. Now, study has revealed that this alone is not something unusual: divination has shown that most creatures seem to possess trace amounts of this reactive ore within the confines of their heads as well. It is the concentration that is unique. Most sailors know that a needle of magnetite, suspended correctly and handled with care, will invariable show the way North. However, the presence of certain other metals and as-yet-not-understood phenomena can alter the reading, though typically this can be avoided with simple enough precautions. The dwarf brain thus acts like a masterful version of the crude compass of the sailing ship; just as men can, with practice, discern their direction and facing through no external observations dwarves can do so as well. It also appears that they can detect not just the direction to North, but also their angle relative to it. The difference between their current angle and the angle they find normal tells them how far above or below they are from that comfortable point of reference and thus, via some basic mathematics, a rough idea of their depth or height. In a world with no stars to guide them, this skill must be honed to precision. Thus, reckoning their depth and direction becomes second nature to a dwarf, which is no doubt what allows them to detect valuable lodes of ore. The complex way the metal ores interfere with their sense of direction must surely make them aware of their close proximity to those precious stones. It is said that dwarves can sniff out a vein of iron or gold, but the truth is that it is perceived and pursued in a process far more wondrous and awe-inspiring than crude odors could manage.
((Next post: Dwarven Culture))