Despite his advisors' pleas for him to change his mind, the Dwarven King remained resolute in his plan to 'infiltrate' the village.
For safety reasons, he disguised himself through magic to look like an ordinary dwarf.
His imposing stature slowly shrank, his fiery eyebrows became tamer, and the intricate braids of his beard that once covered half his face were unraveled, flowing freely down to his knees.
All the characteristics of his royal dwarven lineage vanished, leaving behind the appearance of a simple, honest dwarf.
To anyone who now gazed at the Dwarven King, he was just like any other.
To prove the effectiveness of his disguise, the Dwarven King approached a lone wooden hut deep in the forest and knocked on Thrain's door.
"Is anybody—" the Dwarven King roared, but he quickly realized that his voice was too intimidating, too kingly. And so, he quickly cleared his throat and softened his tone. "Is anybody here?"
