15th of Malachite, 125.
This is Zuntir Sidepages again to provide you with an introduction to one of the characters around Lancescour. I am one of the seven dwarves from The Maroon Helms in the north to establish this remote outpost in the south. Seven more dwarves arrived a couple weeks ago; as yet they remain strangers to me. Miner Morul Painteddie, is not a stranger. He and I became friends during the long journey to the Tower of Escorts mountain region. Morul is not an easy person to get to know. You can tell he loves his friends, but he really likes to be alone.
His birthday is 15th of Slate in the year 50, making him 75 years old. He has a great musical sense, is a competent musician, and sings with a very deep voice. His chosen instruments are of the wind variety, but he can adequately keep up with keyboard and string instruments as well. He’s an adequate poet and a competent speaker. As the past few months have demanded it of him, he’s become a competent mason and miner; He assisted Kib in digging out our underground home. He’s taken much of the stone that this work provided to build many stone tables, chairs, mugs, etc. You won’t hear him brag about it though; it seems to just be something he does without pride.
While not particularly religious, he is a member of The Faith of Blisters. This Maroon Helms group was founded about 60 years ago to worship Tarag the Frothy. Their termite deity represents the muck, and as such, members of the Faith of Blisters have an unusual fascination with decay, mud, manure, and filth. Pass by a pasture full of livestock and devotees of Tarag may comment, “Blessed is the Muck.” Morul, who isn’t particularly interested in what others think of him, is no exception. Still, I don’t think he actually likes muck; he does it out of obligation.
Like the rest of us, he has dark brown skin and pale taupe hair. His head is somewhat broad, cradled by a very round chin. He keeps his very long hair and sideburns neatly combed, with the two sideburns flowing down the sides of his big head. His long, neatly combed mustache sits atop a very long beard that he tames with double braids. His protruding, slightly wide-set eyes are slate gray, framing a short nose. His ears, too, are short, mostly hidden by his hair. Though average in size, he does seem to be very flimsy.
Morul does his work and does it well. He has great respect for talented artisans and their works; their masterworks receive his celebration. Unlike most of us, he actually values martial prowess. Sometimes I worry that our collective lack of interest in fighting will lead to our downfall. We may become an easy target someday. It’s good to have somebody who thinks it is important.
Leisure time, especially merrymaking and partying, is important to Morul. But when the work and partying are done, he likes to be alone. He values family greatly and dreams of raising a family himself someday. Thankfully, he’s not prone to envy or even flights of fancy. He has a good intellect and just needs a little time to think.
He wears midnight-blue pig-tail trousers under a midnight-blue cave-spider silk dress. Over these, he wears a gray pig-tail robe and a brown cougar leather cloak with a gray alpaca wool hood. On his head, he usually dons a midnight-blue pig-tail cap. He pulls gray sheep wool mittens over his gray llama wool gloves. For shoes, he wears great-horned-owl leather shoes in their natural brown over gray alpaca wool socks. Due to his work, he usually carries his copper pick in his right hand.
And finally, he likes guppies, quinoa beer, and sunshine and hates large roaches. He’s been a great asset to our team. One look in the meeting room full of tables is proof enough.
