This is a very old dwarf whose best years are far behind him. Once he might have been a stallion. A battle hardened dwarven warrior ready to crack any skull in front of him with a solid swing of a hammer, but now the elderly dwarf is quite content with following in the tradition of his family. Now his hammer swings down in the pursuit of a peaceful craft, a smith who forges weapons and armour of all kinds.

Like most of his kin he is no stranger to the bottom of a keg! Decades of drinking his brothers and sisters under the table has resulted in a respectable beer belly that, along with the bald cap of his head and greying colours of an otherwise dark brown mane, completely sell the image of one of the stout folk in their twilight years. The only aspects of him that betray this painted portrait are his powerful, forge built upper body and the easily roused dwarven girth between his legs.

Age hasn't jaded him though. Denlur is quick to laugh and even quicker to admire or drool over the vast number of beautiful women that populate the land.

Green lights: Women of all shapes and sizes, boobs and butts, good sex, bad sex, trades for sex! Innocent women and whores, drinking contests that end in all of the above. Lewd encounters with dwarves, dwarven enemies, and dwarven allies. Being conned or drugged. Sex with magic involved. Masturbating in inappropriate locales and all other manner of kinky things. Most importantly, being a lech. There are many more so don't be too shy to ask.