Asking about for the temple, you’re directed by the townsfolk to a small shop off the main square. A
Asking about for the temple, you’re directed by the townsfolk to a small shop off the main square. A wooden sign reading “Vintersons’ Fine Woodworking, Smithy, and Clock Repair” hangs out front. As you enter, a small bell jingles and you can see someone working at a table in the shop behind the counter take notice. At first, you can only see their broad back, covered in a spill of strawberry blond hair tied into massive, ornate braids that reach easily to their waist. As they rise, you catch glimpse of the almost impossibly tiny clockwork contraption they had been working on before they turn towards you. The first thing you notice is the woman’s imposing height. The second is her impressively thick beard a few shades darker than her hair, also tied into a small braid. Finally you spot the simple, broken, holy symbol hanging from a cord around her neck that’s settled between her breasts in the v of the open shirt under her leather apron. …“You are wondering about the beard, ja? Well, you see, my mormor, she was a dwarf, I got it from her. Everyone says, but Edit, she can’t have been a dwarf, you are so tall! But see, my father, he was part Orc!” And she bursts into a deep, mirthful laughter. -- source link