face is perpetually crinkled in cheer, dark eyes twinkling with kind benevolence. Simple but elegant, Ironbeard's outfit of dark trousers, a long-sleeved white tunic belted with thick black rope, and a suede vest is topped off by a slightly tattered chocolate-coloured hat with a wide brim. The straps of a satchel line his chest, the canvas of the bag hitched over his broad back bulging with assorted shapes. A dwarven battleaxe with curious sigils etched into the shining double blades lies tucked beneath the satchel, still within easy reach.
Ironbeard the Magnanimous does not even register your presence as a threat.
Quotes:
The rowdy notes of a drinking song, faint at first, then rising to the undisputed intensity of a Dwarf On A Mission, herald the arrival of Ironbeard the Magnanimous who casts his beam of a smile about himself as he arrives. Ironbeard the Magnanimous staggers as he exclaims, "Have a present, <player>. Now where's my ale cup gone to?"
With a sudden look of concentration, Ironbeard the Magnanimous smiles a crooked smile, rubs his ample stomach, and fades to nothingness, followed by the sound of a distant belch.