This is my dwarf friend that helped me with all of the technical dwarven facts during the creation of that poem I wrote. (the one that isn't so great) I tried to have him in a kilt because if they showed themself here on Earth they would be a cross between a viking and a leprecon. The kilt turned out okay but it looks more like a skort, don't you think? Oh and as for his axe.... The dawn crept over the horizen as a cat might its prey soaking the dwarven village in red gold light. All the villagers stared at the horizen but it was not because of the beautious sunrise, it was because their men were home. After three years of terrible battles, the War of the Peoples was over. The women rushed inside their houses to fetch food and blankets while the children dashed up to catch a glimps of their fathers. As the parade to the villiage continued, a small dwarf girl noticed an oddly armored dwarf. 'Look there! That's Draakl, isn't it? What happened to his axe?' Whispers flew and stories grew about the brave adventures of the Draakl the Great. When he reached town, all were anxious to hear his tale. To their curious looks and questions all Draakl did was smile broadly then trundle over to his wife. Legends grew and tales were told of his daring deeds but Draakl still said nothing. Who, when the sun bursts in an array of colors declaring the end of day, would ever believe that he had (foolishly)only tried to cut down a tree to get himself an apple?