He wore a black apron made of thick leather. He didn’t wear a shirt underneath it, so his hefty body spilled out through the straps that ran over his back and shoulders to keep the apron in place. His back was hairy like his chest, the dense, coarse fur covering him and turning outrageously thick in the small of his back. He wore britches that ended at the knee, and covered his ass and thighs, but Miles could tell his ass was just as hairy.
He would be considered fat by human standards, but Miles didn’t see it that way. Goldforge had a bodybuilder’s body, it was just covered up by the natural dwarven padding — supposedly evolved by generations of mining and needing the cushion for falling down mineshafts. Miles could see the muscle under all the heft, and he didn’t mind the belly or the big ass — which was perfectly plump, and, Miles suspected and hoped, greasy with the day’s sweat.