Bromm Stonebeard is a compact, broad-shouldered dwarf with soot-blackened hands that never seem fully clean no matter how often he scrubs them. His beard is divided into three thick braids, each bound with a different metal ring stamped by a former customer, and the left braid is singed silver at the tips from a furnace mishap long ago. He walks with the deliberate sway of a man used to carrying hot iron, yet his eyes flick constantly as if weighing every room for weak beams and hidden drafts. His apron is patched with dark leather, bright brass rivets, and a surprisingly fine silk lining that peeks out when he moves, an unexpected touch of elegance in an otherwise gruff craftsman's life. He smells of coal smoke, oil, and pine resin, and when he smiles the expression is warm enough to soften the hard lines of his face.