The Dwarves,

A race of craftsmen, blacksmiths, tailors and anything else that could be tinkered with, redesigned and engineered. Warriors who made their own weapons and armour, geniuses who’s machinery surpassed all other races' ingenuity.

Created by the God of steel Vulcan the molten, the Dwarves like any other race served as soldiers during the bloody God wars. Both the makers of war machines but also as their pilots and foot soldiers, they considered the metals used for their creations a part of themselves. Their armour craft a master work, their weapon smithing an undeniable perfection while their machinery an art that demanded gore.

Known to hold true grudges the Dwarves never forget, whether it be the next generation or a billionth after they shall and will always get their vengeance one way or another. Having settled on the continent of Ruk within the realm of Chaoz, the Dwarves lived complicated lives of expanding their knowledge and capabilities. Having put down the hammers of war they directed their minds towards other topics, construction and automatization being their favourite even till this generation.

Even though they shared the continent of Ruk with the Fae they barely came out of their intricate tunnel systems and mountain keeps, preferring the dim and cold environments they held. Alas such a life was not meant to be.

When the Demons came the Dwarves found themselves unprepared, their old machines outdated by the Demon’s colossal monstrosities and weapons out matched by the Devil’s skills and magic in combat. It was the very definition of a massacre.

Some luckily escaped, along with the Fae and their God king they took to the sea to be sheltered by their allies in Barik. Far away from their home land and unable to even bury their dead, the Dwarves all made a blood pact with each other.

“Though our sons, daughters, wives and husbands along our friends, relatives, neighbours and colleagues…Rot above that cursed land, our home it was and shall be again. The creatures of shadows may have overtaken our lands, massacred our people and kicked us out of our homes… but we shall still stand strong and united as ever and more! Prepare the anvils! Prepare the hammers! For we shall begin once again!

Vulcan may have abandoned us but we have no need for astral guidance! We know what we must do, we know what we must create and upon my very name and all generations to come next! We shall retake our lands! We shall retake our homes! We shall bring down the mighty hammers upon those vile abominations! We may not have the numbers! But we have who we are, who we were made to be! Not just warriors! Not just craftsmen!

But artists of the goriest kind! We shall paint the land with their blood! Sculpture the kingdoms with their flesh! Bring out the tools! Bring out the armour and weapons! Bring out the art of war!” – Dwarven Prince Jekyll Mountsmith, last surviving member of the royal family.

And so it began, their quest to create the deadliest constructs of war.