A Strange Sight....
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In the early hours of the morning, Peltarch's streets are quite busy with the hustle and bustle of of daily life in the city. As commoners trade tales and merchants hock their wares, a group of three dwarves approach from Peltarch's southern gates.
At their lead, a burly dwarf is seen. His heavy plate armor is bloodied and covered in wicked barbed spikes. He is flanked on either side by dwarves equally equipped for battle. Their heavy plated greaves clank against the cobblestone streets as the trio make their way to the Commons.
The dwarf at their lead slowly removes his helmet, and hands it to one of his escorts. His skin is pale, and it's quite clear he has spent a great deal of time underground. His long, flowing beard is well-maintained and braided - and carries a unique bronze hue. A strange rune has been traced along his forehead in a thick, dark red ink.
He slides a barbed steel dagger from his waist... and glances around the area, muttering to himself in dwarven. He takes hold of the end of his beard.... and slowly raises the sharp of his blade to his chin. As onlookers watch curiously - the dwarf severs his own beard, and throws it to the ground at the common's center.
After lowering his helmet back atop his shoulders, he briskly turns and makes his way back to the southern gates, his heavy escort following in step.
-
There is a sudden disturbance at the other side of the commons, and when people turn back the beard is gone from where it was dropped The commander of the Farscouts could be seen entering the City Hall, a normal day except for the odd dwarves.
