King Odrun Afolu is a broad, middle-aged dwarf with the immovable posture of a statue and the restless hands of a merchant counting coins. His skin is warm umber, weathered across the cheeks and nose by years of mountain wind. His brown hair is thick and carefully oiled, falling to his shoulders beneath an enormous jeweled crown. A bushy mustache spreads across his upper lip like two storm clouds, merging into heavy sideburns that nearly reach his jaw. His nose is ridiculously bulbous, veined at the tip, and impossible to ignore. He is neither handsome nor ugly, but his face becomes strangely compelling when he smiles, because the smile is always perfectly timed and never quite reaches his eyes. He moves with deliberate dignity in public, placing each foot as though walking across a ceremonial mosaic. When angry, however, his fingers twitch rapidly and his shoulders hunch like a miner preparing to strike stone. The unexpected contradiction is that beneath his grand ceremonial armor he has a surprisingly delicate, almost dancer-like balance, allowing him to pivot and evade with startling grace.