Dwarven Citadels

The Dwarf King rules a single hold — Drakhorn, Vargrid-Veld, Norhall, or another of the holds still standing. No High King governs him; the line of the First Builder ended at the First Fracture, and the Conclave of Kings meets only irregularly at the World-Forge, never in full.

He wears Forefather-Steel armour forged by his grandfather and runed by his own hands. His axe bears the names of the thirty-two Greenskins his father slew with it. On the field he fights afoot — no Dwarf King has ridden to battle since the First Fracture — and stands at the centre of the formation, axe high, his hold's Book of Grudges borne by a Herald at his side. When a King falls, his name enters the Book as a grudge against the enemy that felled him, and the grudge will not die until the enemy's line dies. So it has been for four thousand years.

The Thane is the hold's sub-chief — the King's senior officer, keeper of a particular gallery, elder of a respected line. He bears ducal insignia, Forefather-Steel armour less ample than the King's, and the axe his House has held for five generations.

He commands the Dwarf Warrior companies, defends the galleries when the King is absent, leads the revenge-expeditions against the Greenskins of the lower galleries. His Virtue is Constancy — a Thane endures, a Thane remembers. The Book of Grudges he knows page by page; he knows which gallery was lost in which century, who lost it, who swore its recapture. On the field he commands the King's left or right wing, signs manœuvres with his seal, and marks each enemy slain for the Book. When a Thane falls, the King in person carves the name into the hold's stone.

The Runic Anvil is the sacred engine of the Runelords — no altar but an anvil forged at the World-Forge and bound to a Runelord by apprentice-oath. It weighs half a ton, is carried by four elite Warriors or a Dwarf Cart, and serves as an anchor for the Way of Runes during battle.

The Runelord strikes the Anvil with his rune-hammer; each blow graves a Breath into the metal of a friendly warrior in range. It is slow, precise, permanent — the engraved rune holds until the weapon or armour is destroyed. On the field the Anvil is guarded by a close company of Hammerers or Ironbreakers; no King allows an Anvil to be taken. When the Anvil is destroyed (it has happened — a Chaos Giant broke one at the Battle of the Three Galleries), the hold mourns a year and a day, and the Runelord swears to the Book of Grudges that the broken rune will be reforged in the enemy's blood.

The Dwarf Runelord is the supreme clergy of the Builder — no wizard in the elven sense, but an artisan-priest who binds the Breaths into physical runes graven at the moment of forging. He has spent two centuries learning the minor runes, a century engraving the major runes, and now wears the long white beard of the confirmed Master.

His magic is slow, irreversible, graven. No Runelord casts for effect — he forges a rune for consequence, and the consequence lasts until the metal's destruction. On the field he attends the Runic Anvil, strikes the rite, dispenses emergency runes to surviving wounded. When a Runelord falls, the hold mourns — a Runelord cannot be replaced in less than a century. The Book notes. The Conclave of Kings waits in silence for the successor.

Durnir Ashbeard, Warden of the Long Memory, is the oldest Hierarch-Keeper of the Books of Grudges in service — he holds the Mother-Library of the World-Forge, where the Books of every hold are consolidated. He has spent seven centuries learning the reading of grudge-runes (the oldest date from the Age of Legends), a century organising the consolidation, and now wears a white beard down to the knees.

He has not fought in pitched battle in four centuries. When he walks, a cosmic grudge demands his presence — Conclave of Kings for a major oath, deposition of a grudge-rune against a Chaos Aspect, witness for another hold that doubts. His Virtue is Living-Memory. When he speaks, the Book itself seems to fall silent to listen. No King commands him; he answers only to the Library itself. When Durnir falls (never in the annals), an original grudge has been forgotten — and the whole Conclave meets to find it again.

Brokk the Oathless, Last of the Slayer Kings, is the most illustrious Slayer in service — not a common Slayer but a former King of Norhall hold who left the crown for the Slayer Cult after the loss of his Seventh Gallery to the Vermin in the seventh century of the Broken Age. His grudge against the Vermin is such that no Runelord has dared engrave it in the Book — it is too great for the stone.

He bears the blue tattoos of all Slayers, the shaved scalp, the great two-bladed axe he forged in the blood of a Vermin Aspect felled during his first Quest. No King receives him as a King (he has renounced); no Slayer matches him in authority (he has reigned). On the field he fights alone, charges in wedge, always picks the most monstrous enemy he meets. He went into errantry two centuries ago. No rumour of his death has reached the Books. Brokk walks on. The grudge walks with him.

The Runesmith is the Runelord's apprentice — confirmed in minor runes, still in training for the major ones, already able to serve a hold in secondary battles. He bears the black or grey beard of the young adult (by Dwarf measure, two centuries), and his rune-hammer is shorter, his axe humbler.

On the field he attends the companies, engraves emergency runes on damaged weapons, heals wounds by iron-rune (a technique learned from the Astréens in the Age of Legends, since lost, lately rediscovered). His Virtue is Precision — a misgraven rune shatters the metal, and a Smith who shatters a King's hammer is barred for life. Many Smiths become Runelords after two more centuries of service. Many do not endure — patience is rarer than dexterity.

The Daemon Slayer is a Slayer who has sworn the ultimate oath — to fell a true daemon of Chaos before he dies. He bears the shaved scalp, the blue tattoos of the Slayer Cult, and the great two-bladed axe he forged himself at the start of his Quest. No armour — a Slayer seeks death, armour is compromise with life.

He marches ahead of the companies, charges first against the most monstrous enemies, picks Chaos Aspects if he meets one, never withdraws. His Virtue is Damnation — a Daemon Slayer who has not found his daemon dies frustrated, and his ghost wanders the galleries until another Slayer keeps the oath in his place. The Book records Slayers dead without daemon as open grudges against Chaos itself. When a Daemon Slayer keeps the oath and survives (rare), he returns to the hold without honour — he has failed in his own death. He will live three or four more decades, taciturn, called 'former daemon'. None envy that life.

The Dragon Slayer is the specific version of the Daemon Slayer — a Slayer who has sworn to fell a dragon before he dies. Rarer still than Daemon Slayers (dragons are scarce on Aldémoros); one per hold every three or four centuries, sometimes none for generations.

He wears the same blue tattoos, the great axe, the shaved scalp. His Virtue is Damned-Patience — he can wait for decades, walk the Northern Marches in search of a dragon-rumour, descend into the lower galleries where certain primordial dragons still sleep. When he finds one, he challenges it alone; the other Dwarves withdraw by convention. The fight lasts an hour, sometimes more, and ends always in the Dwarf's death — to win against a true dragon is not in the Books' memory. The dragon, however, comes out wounded, and the rune-wound abides. The Book notes. The grudge sleeps.

The Dwarf Engineer is the master of rune-engines and powder — heir to the long Dwarf tradition of engineering, trained in the Engine-Galleries (specialised compartments of the major holds), responsible for cannon, siege engines, Gyrocopters. He wears light rune-plate, a powder pistol, the tool-belt.

On the field he attends the Cannons and Gyrocopters, calibrates ranges, signs the firing-Liturgies, repairs engines in combat. His Virtue is Measured-Precision. He scorns — moderately — the Imperial Forge-Magi who learned from them and then drifted, and accepts — moderately — that the Cathayans have a valid alternative path to powder. When an Engineer falls, the Conclave of Kings takes note; an Engineer rarely dies (powder has often killed him first), and each true combat death is noted as a grudge. He passes his notes to his apprentice within the decade.

The Doomseeker is a Slayer who has sworn the double oath — to fell a specific creature named by him at the Slayer altar, and to die along the way. He bears the blue tattoos, the shaved scalp, the great axe, and a bone tablet round the neck on which his target's name is graven in grudge-runes.

He walks in errantry, follows his target's rumour (a specific Chaos daemon, an Aspect, a named dragon), crosses the Northern Marches, descends into the Deeps, climbs the howling mountains. His Virtue is Quest. When he finds his target, he challenges; when he undoes his target (rare, but possible), he returns to the hold to die of age or by challenge to the King (the double oath includes his own death). When he falls on the way (common), the Book notes — a Doomseeker lost is grudge against the unreached target, and another Doomseeker takes the oath the following decade. The target remembers. The Book remembers. The oath bears.

The Dwarf Warrior is the flesh of the holds' armies — soldiers levied from every House of the hold, fitted with scale armour, the great round shield, the short axe or short spear. His formation is dense, his discipline silent, his Virtue is Holding.

No Dwarf Warrior has fled in battle in the Books' annals — flight is a grudge against oneself, and a Dwarf grudges to the death. He fights afoot, never mounted (no Dwarf loves a horse), holds the phalanx line against Greenskins, Beastmen, Vermin, Erebans, all corrupted humanity he meets. When he falls, he falls forward; when he survives, he returns to the hold, writes the name of every foe he slew in the House Book, and prepares for the next battle. That is the life of a Dwarf Warrior. It lasts three centuries, sometimes four, and ends beneath the stone.

The Quarreller is the holds' crossbowman — ranked above the common Warrior but below the Thunderer. His heavy crossbow fires Forefather-Steel bolts engraved with minor runes by the hold's Runesmith; the bolts pierce plate at a hundred paces, drive through Cathayan cuirass at fifty.

He fights behind the Warrior line, looses in concentrated volley rather than individual shots, reloads in four or five seconds (the Dwarf crank-crossbow is faster than the common human one). His Virtue is Target. On the field he picks enemy heroes, banner-bearers, exposed wizards. When a Quarreller falls, the Book notes; Quarrellers are few, and each death is a grudge against the enemy archer who felled him. The Book tracks the archer. The next Quarreller marks him.

The Thunderer is the holds' arquebusier — successor to the Quarreller in the hierarchy, fitted not with crossbow but with rune-lock arquebus. The powder is measured, the ball is Forefather-Steel lead, the rune seals the chamber against damp (a fundamental rune no Imperial engineer has matched).

He fires in volley, farther than the Quarreller, more precisely, with a thunder-clap that announces death. His Virtue is Announcement — a Thunderer fires and the enemy knows a hero has fallen. On the field he holds the rear ranks of the phalanx, picks targets the Quarreller cannot reach. The Book notes every major target felled. When a Thunderer falls (it happens — powder is fragile, and the arquebus sometimes bursts), the hold mourns but the Engineer reforges. A rune-arquebus is not lost in combat; it is brought back, repaired, given to the successor.

The Dwarf Ranger is the holds' scout — a Warrior who has accepted the solitary surface-march charge, schooled in spear-hunting, crossbow, path-reading. He wears lighter armour than common Warriors (full plate is too heavy for long patrols), a lacquered leather cloak, and a braided beard so it does not snag in brambles.

He walks ahead of the companies, marks enemy positions, reads the trails of Greenskins or Beastmen, reports to the King in rune-hieroglyphs (the ancient Dwarf sign-tongue). On the field he operates in loose formation, harries the flanks, looses at short range. His Virtue is Watchfulness — a Ranger who sleeps on patrol is barred for life. Many Rangers live and die on the surface; half do not return to the hold for their last funeral rite. The Book notes. The hold ever waits.

The Longbeard is the eldest among the Warriors — four centuries of service, sometimes five, white beard to the belt, gaze that has seen more than half the living holds. She has fought the Greenskins back when Vargrid-Veld Hold still held two more storeys, watched Drakhorn lose its Fourteenth Gallery, escorted a King who did not outlive his return to the World-Forge.

On the field her formation is compact, her Virtue is Memory. When she holds, the young Warriors hold. When she speaks (rarely), the whole hold listens. Her axe is heavier than the common Warrior's — four centuries of runes layered one on the other. When a Longbeard falls, the hold mourns a month; when a whole company of Longbeards falls (it happened at the Battle of the Four Galleries), a century of memory goes out. The Book truly weeps.

The Ironbreaker is the Galleries' defensive elite — Warriors clad head to foot in full Forefather-Steel plate, fitted with a two-handed great-axe and the thickest round shield of the hold. His formation is dense, his Virtue is Inflexibility, his charge is slow yet inexorable.

He fights in narrow passes where loose formation would lose advantage — lower galleries against Greenskins, hold entrances against sieges, mountain passes against Ereban hordes. In the open field he serves as a fulcrum: round him the phalanx pivots, before him nothing passes. When an Ironbreaker falls, his armour is recovered and reforged for a successor; every Forefather-Steel piece is too precious to lose. The hold tracks the lineage of every full armour across centuries. The Book remembers armours as it remembers men.

The Miner is the Warrior of the lower galleries — trained not in phalanx combat but in the art of cutting, tunnelling, sapping under enemy fortifications. He wears lighter armour, a two-purpose pickaxe (digging and fighting), and an oil-rune lamp on the brow that lights the underground even in the Deeps.

On the field he saps beneath enemy positions, emerges under the feet of enemy pikemen, strikes with the pickaxe, dives back into the tunnel. His Virtue is Surprise. No human fortification has held against a Dwarf Miner team — the Book notes dozens of human castles taken by sap in two seasons. On the open field the use is less, yet real: a swift tunnel beneath an enemy line suffices to break formation. When a Miner dies in the sap (it happens — a collapse, an enemy blade at the moment of surface), he is buried in the tunnel he dug. The Book notes. The gallery knows.

The Slayer is the Dwarf who has sworn to die — for unforgivable grudge (King fallen in a battle he commanded, hold lost in his keeping, word broken to another Dwarf), for personal shame, or because a Dwarf's long memory has tipped over into desire for extinction. He shaves his scalp, tattoos his arms and shoulders in blue-Forefather-Steel ink, and sets out in errantry armed with a great axe and nothing else.

He walks at the margins of the armies, charges first against the most monstrous foes, wears no armour (armour is compromise with life), does not yield. His Virtue is Sought-Death. If he survives, it is because he has not found a fitting death — he goes on. If he finds a fitting death, he embraces it. The Book records Slayers fittingly dead as grudges cancelled. The Book records Slayers surviving too long as continuing shame. Neither position is comfortable. That is the cost.

The Gyrocopter is the holds' flying engine — no mount but a machine, designed by the Engineers of the Engine-Galleries of Drakhorn in the fourth century of the Broken Age. A Forefather-Steel pod, two vertical rotors driven by rune-steam engine, a light cannon or heavy crossbow mounted at the front. A single Dwarf pilots — Engineer or Warrior specifically trained.

He flies low, harasses enemy flanks, fells banner-bearers, hurls powder-grenades from the pod. His Virtue is Singularity — no mount, no dependence on a living being, only the machine and the pilot. When the Gyrocopter falls (it happens — an enemy catapult suffices, a well-placed spell also), the pilot rarely survives. The Book notes. The Engineers reforge. The machine itself is recovered piece by piece, and most fragments serve the next Gyrocopter. The rune is never lost.

The Hammerer is the King's close guard — elite Warriors chosen for strength and loyalty, fitted with the great two-handed hammer forged in the same batch as the King's. They wear full Forefather-Steel plate, the ducal round shield, and the white beard which only veteran Hammerers may let grow freely.

They form the King's close screen on the field, never charge without his order, hold until the Book is closed. No Hammerer has fled in the annals — that is absolute grudge against self, King, and hold. When the King falls, the Hammerer survives long enough to carry the royal corpse back to the hold, then withdraws to the Slayer Cult. He will take the Daemon Slayer or Dragon Slayer oath the following season. So it has been for three thousand years. The Book notes.

The Bolt Thrower is the holds' giant crossbow — a Forefather-Steel frame, a cord twisted from glacial mammoth sinew, and a crank mechanism that tensions the cord in under a minute. The bolt it launches is truly a stake — two metres long, iron-shod at both ends, able to pierce three ranks of knights in a single shot.

The crew is three Warriors (one for the mechanism, one for the aim, one for the bolt) and a Floor-Engineer who calibrates. On the field it looses at three hundred paces, crosses enemy lines, strikes heroes and engines. Its Virtue is Depth — the bolt does not halt at the first rank. When the Bolt Thrower falls (an enemy Screaming Skull Catapult shot can take it), the crew recovers the mechanism and brings it back to the hold; the wood rebuilds in four weeks, the Forefather-Steel never perishes.

The Stone Thrower is the holds' mechanical catapult — a purely mechanical siege engine, no powder, no fire-rune, just counterweight and lever. It launches stones of calibrated size (each hold keeps a mother-rock on which the projectile-stones are hewn to exact measure). Range is less than a Cannon, rate slower, but stone does not wear like powder, and the Stone Thrower holds in all conditions (gallery damp, pass frost, continuous rain).

The crew is four Warriors and an Engineer. On the field it is set behind the phalanxes, fired at the King's signal, the stone screened by arquebus volley to keep the enemy from seeing it coming. Its Virtue is Mechanical-Memory — each shot is calibrated on notes from past engagements. When the Stone Thrower falls, the crew dismantles and brings it back to the hold. No Stone Thrower has been lost intact in five centuries.

The Dwarf Cannon is the original powder engine — the first piece of powder-cast forged at the World-Forge in the thirteenth century of the Broken Age, the model from which all human, Cathayan, vermin cannon derive (poorly). The Dwarf cannon is forged of a single Forefather-Steel tube, engraved with precision-runes along its length, mounted on a reinforced wooden carriage.

Its Virtue is Permanence — a Dwarf cannon does not warp, does not crack, does not burst mid-shot. The powder is measured by the Engineer, the shot calibrated, the rune seals the chamber. On the field it fires at six hundred paces, crosses enemy lines, breaks enemy siege engines. The crew is four Servants (two for firing, two for reloading) and an Engineer. When the Cannon falls (rare — it takes a Chaos Aspect to strike directly), it is brought back to the hold, the Engineer diagnoses, and most components serve the next Cannon. The Book notes losses. The World-Forge holds.

The Irondrake is the holds' ranged elite — an Ironbreaker schooled in the heavy arquebus engraved with anti-dragonic runes (an Age of Legends rune, rediscovered in the third century of the Broken Age). The hand-cannon fires Forefather-Steel balls engraved with a fire-rune, and the combination turns the shot into a burning bolt that can pierce a true dragon's scale.

He fights behind the Ironbreakers, looses in short-to-mid range volley, with a thunder-clap amplified by fire-rune. His Virtue is Decision — every shot picks its target, and the shot counts. On the field he picks Chaos Aspects, Tomb Sphinxes, great bestial monsters, and at least one Irondrake per hold is trained to pick true dragons should they appear. The Book records each dragon felled. As yet, thirteen are noted in four thousand years. Thirteen is not many, and it is enough.

The Gyrobomber is the bomb-version of the Gyrocopter — heavier pod, two pilots (one for the machine, one for the bombs), the capacity to drop rune-bombs from the height. He flies lower than a hawk but higher than an enemy lance, drops bombs on enemy siege engines, infantry concentrations, weak fortifications.

His Virtue is Vertical-Precision. The rune-bomb is more powerful than a common grenade — a fire-rune bound to a Forefather-Steel core, made by the Third-Floor Engineer, explodes in a straight column, pierces stone, burns flesh. On the field one or two are aligned, no more — the cost of making is great, and every lost bomb is noted in the Book. When the Gyrobomber falls (it happens — the bomb may explode prematurely), the hold mourns two pilots instead of one. The Book keeps both names in memory.

The Organ Gun is the holds' multi-tube powder engine — six to nine Forefather-Steel tubes mounted parallel on a rotating carriage, capable of firing a grouped volley or sequential shots. It was designed by the Engineer Norri Thousand-Fingers in the sixteenth century of the Broken Age, after observation of human pipe-organs (the name's coincidence is intentional).

Its Virtue is Saturation — the Organ does not fire for precision, it fires to cover a zone. On the field it is valuable against greenskin hordes or massed Vermin — a saturation volley of nine tubes sweeps a fifty-pace front. The crew is five Servants and an Engineer. When the Organ bursts (it happens — simultaneous firing of nine tubes sometimes gives, and one tube splits), the crew falls with it. The Book notes. The Engineer reforges with an additional rune, calibrated for pressure.

The Flame Cannon is the powder engine of the holds furthest in engineering — no common cannon, but a rune-steam projector that spits a continuous five-metre flame. The fuel is naphtha refined by the Engineers of the Engine-Galleries and passed through a rune-chamber that ignites it at the muzzle.

Its Virtue is Purge — the flame cleans what the shot only pierces. On the field it is valuable against Chaos Hound packs, vermin Skirmishers, Tomb Swarms — any loose formation that does not resist sustained fire. The crew is three Servants and an Engineer. When the Flame Cannon bursts (rarely — the rune-chamber is the Engineers' most stable invention), the crew and a five-pace radius burn together. It is rare. The Book notes the rare cases. The World-Forge retains the names.