Dwarf

//>_ Hacker_Override_Initiated... Karckess on what makes a Dwarf tick.

//>_ Don't let the height fool you; they're walking anvils. That denser bone structure Dryzor mentions means they’re hard to put down, whether you hit 'em with a pipe or drop a few tons of rock on 'em. Makes them fantastic frontline grunts, which is why Corp-Rats love to employ them. As for the hair, the beard is everything. It’s where they wear their history, their clan, and their worth in clat. If a Dwarf is Braidless or Beardless, they’ve lost everything—they’re walking dreck, and you’re supposed to treat 'em like it. If you see one with a smooth chin, you stride the other way, 'cause he's either in deep trouble or looking to make some. Tougher than any tusker you'll ever meet, even the short ones.

//>_ Hacker_Override_Initiated... Karckess on slow growth.

//>_ They take their time. Thirteen years to be a brat, and twenty-three before the Corp-Rats consider them a tax-paying asset. That long maturation cycle? It breeds loyalty and, frankly, stubbornness. They're slow to change their minds, too. Don't try teaching an old Dwarf a new trick, Chip Head, unless you want to go schiz or end up crazy as Kassidan's parade. They grow up fast enough to swing a pickaxe, but slow enough to remember every old grudge you ever gave them. If a Dwarf tells you to stride, you stride.

//>_ Hacker_Override_Initiated... Karckess on what they're hiding down there.

//>_ They like the dark and they hate the wide open. Dryzor calls it 'optimal psychological function.' I call it trog fear of the sky. Doesn't matter if they're Canyon or Valley Dwarves, they all want a ceiling over their heads, preferably one with three hundred feet of rock on top of it. They build their cities deep for protection, and not just from the usual dreck and rotters. They do it to keep their secrets and their mines full of creds safe from the slither-spined Corp-Rats up top. They feel safe in the dark because they can see in it (more on that later, Chip Head). Try to jack-in to one of their subterranean networks without a Dwarven therra and you’ll hit Black I.C.E. fast.

//>_ Hacker_Override_Initiated... Karckess on the Dwarf diet.

//>_ They eat like they work—hard and heavy. They need protein to keep that rock-solid body running, and they need their minerals. Dryzor is talking about that nasty, mineral-heavy cave water like it’s a health shake. It's their brew; their stomachs are tough enough to handle munch that would put a slither-spined Elven in the hospital. The real truth is, they're breathing the rock dust down in the mines to get their fix. It's efficient, if you ask me. Nothing is skavy to a Dwarf if it keeps their clan working and their clat flowing. The only dreck they won't touch is a meal bought with Corp-Rat blood creds.

• Nine Braids (Royalty): Reserved exclusively for the Dwarf Kings, with specific adornments symbolic of their breed's element (e.g., the Gem Dwarf King wearing @Myst Fissure Shards).

 
• Eight to Six Braids (Nobles):

 
• 8 Braids: The Intellectuals, hosting the most skilled engineers, Mystechnician, scientists, and Arcanist.

 
• 7 Braids: The Theurgic Mages, including @Priests to @Shamen, respected as agents of the divinities regardless of alignment.

 
• 6 Braids: Education specialists, scholars, and historians responsible for cultural preservation.

 
• Five and Four Braids (Middle Class):

 
• 5 Braids: Skilled Craftsmen, including specialist pumpers, electricians, and smiths.

 
• 4 Braids: Artists, dedicated to expressive arts like sculpture and photography.

 
• Three to One Braids (Low Class):

 
• 3 Braids: Hard Laborers, focusing on construction and physical infrastructural work.

 
• 2 Braids: Office Workers, administrative and non-physical workers.

 
• 1 Braid: Food Production laborers, designated the lowest braid tier but recognized as critical to communal viability.

//>_ Hacker_Override_Initiated... Karckess on the clan chains.

//>_ That braid count isn't just a hairstyle; it's a credit score tied to their B.I.C that Dryzor and the other Corp-Rats use to keep them in line. It dictates their worth in creds and clat. The system is brutal, top to bottom. A One Braid guy is still worth more than any slither-spined human, but the Braidless are worse than dreck. The Beardless ban is no joke. They've lost their clan, their money, and their right to exist. That's the real Dwarven law: break the system, and you wear the Executioner's collar until someone puts you out of your misery. Don't go to war against a Dwarf's clan; it’s the only way they know how to live, or die.

//>_ Hacker_Override_Initiated... Karckess on seeing in the dark.

//>_ They don't need lights. They see in the dark using their ears and their mouths, which is why they talk so deep and rumbling—it bounces off the walls for them. They're basically walking sonar systems. The real secret the Corp-Rats won't tell you is the ore. They don't need a scanner on their therra to find the good stuff; they can feel the clat right through the rock. It's an internal scanner, which is the best I.C.E. against theft. Try to tag a good vein they haven't found yet, and you'll find they knew you were there before you even ject'd from the site. Don't hide from a Dwarf; they can hear your heartbeat through ten feet of solid stone.