Gully Dwarf

Squat and pot-bellied, gully dwarves stand about four feet tall and weigh around 100 pounds, with skin from olive brown to pale parchment and skinnier limbs than other dwarves. Most are covered in dirt, sores, boils and scars. Men grow scraggly beards and women have hairy cheeks. Hair is dirty blond to dull black; eyes are hazel, watery blue or murky green.

They are legendarily dim. Anything above one counts as 'two', which just means 'more than one'. Yet each gully dwarf is deeply impressed with itself, and nothing can puncture that ego.

Cowardice is a virtue to them and groveling is high art. Threatened but not yet struck, a gully dwarf might faint, sob, beg, spill every secret it knows, bolt, or freeze and shake. Attacked, it will fight, sometimes with eyes shut, and happily cheats, lies, steals and bullies. Gear is salvaged from trash: padded or studded leather, plus clubs, knives, daggers or hand axes, and the odd sling.

A clan rarely tops 2d10. An eleven-dwarf clan might hold a chieftain (fighter, level 2-6), around four 1st-level fighters, one of them a clan shaman with no actual magic, a 2nd- to 4th-level fighter or thief, and women and children. Clans squat in deserted villages, mines and caves, or in city dumps, slums and sewers. When clans gather, the toughest, smartest chief becomes king by adding 'High' to his clan's name, and because no one can count, most kings style themselves 'the First'.

Magic items are junk to them, since other races put the magic in. Real power lies in things that seem to do nothing, like bent sticks, rotten fruit, old bones and fur balls, and the shaman guards these sacred relics and oversees their use.

Most races avoid gully dwarves, though some hire them for drudge work, and gnomes sometimes use them as spies or assassins despite their incompetence. They eat anything at all, and many clans keep a pot of stew forever simmering, tossing in whatever is dead or nearly so.