In the dark, hidden recesses of the Khazadrim kingdom, far from the bustling activity of the forge and the prying eyes of the dwarven guards, a sinister figure stirred.
The hideout was concealed deep within the labyrinthine tunnels that only the most knowledgeable or desperate would dare traverse. The air was thick with dampness, and the flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows on the rough stone walls.
The figure, cloaked in darkness, began to change. Muscles and bones shifted, reshaping themselves with an unnatural ease. The transformation was a grotesque spectacle of contorting flesh and cracking bones, but the figure did not flinch. This was a process he had undergone countless times before.
As the final touches of the transformation settled the figure's previously tall and lithe form had shrunk and broadened, taking on the stocky build and distinctive features of a dwarf.
