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. He was a stocky, unsmiling dwarf who
had inherited all of the worst Fireforge features: the bulbous
nose, their mother's weight, and their father's slight chin.
Even when off duty, he wore his constable uniform - shiny
leather breastplate and shoulder protectors hardened in
boiling oil and dyed blue, gray tunic beneath that to his
knees, gray leg wraps, and thick-soled leather shoes. He re-
moved it only once a week to bathe.
"Mayor Holden wisely made it a condition of the agree-
ment that the mountain dwarves use the services of the hill
dwarves when in Hillhome - extra money for our crafts-
men." Tybalt brushed a piece of string from his breastplate.
"Besides, the derro hate light so much that they would never
station a smith above ground so far from Thorbardin. If it
weren't for Hillhome, they'd have to bring a smith along on
every trip just in case of breakdowns, which would be ex-
ceedingly costly." Tybalt struck a ramrod pose. "Everyone
says Mayor Holden drove an excellent bargain with the
Theiwar."
Fidelia snorted indelicately and ruffled Tybalt's dark hair
as she strolled by him
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