The Dwarfs are an ancient and industrious race that is long past its prime. Their once-great empire of Karak Ankor now lies in ruins and many of the Dwarfs mighty mountain holds have been abandoned or conquered by Orcs and Goblins, with whom the Dwarfs have warred for centuries.
It is not uncommon to hear a Dwarf wistfully recall the great glories of the past, observing bitterly that nothing the Dwarfs do in this day and age can compare to the majesty of what once was. An enormously proud people, the Dwarfs are quick to react to any slight, real or imagined, and remember any such infraction for years, even passing on the responsibility of vengeance to their heirs through their Books of Grudges.
It is perhaps because of their obstinate pride that the Dwarfs refuse to openly admit that their culture is slowly creeping towards its nadir. Inwardly, however, they know that they are a doomed race. This gives them a uniquely dour outlook upon the world and perhaps explains their great fondness for drowning their sorrows in tankard after tankard of ale. In fact, the only thing that the Dwarfs love more than a good mug of ale is gold.
A Dwarf in the throes of goldlust is a thing to behold. The races legendary drive and stamina is brought into sharp relief when they are presented with the opportunity to acquire gold. As miners and experts on ore and metals, the Dwarfs are without peer. Items of Dwarven craftsmanship and engineering are the most valuable in all the world, revered even by the Elves. The fates of the Dwarfs and men of the Empire are inextricably intertwined.
Ever since the day Sigmar united the tribes of men in the defense of the Dwarfs at the Battle of Black Fire Pass, the stout warrior-folk have honored their oath to come to the aid of men in times of need. With the fate of the Empire now hanging in the balance, it seems that this old debt may soon come to call.
“To strike an Iron Breaker is to strike an anvil. You are more likely to re-shape your weapon than to move him”
“This is the last time i am going to say this …Runes are not magic. Magic is for silly buggers in robes and pony Ats”
“Alright lad, now just pull here, don’t forget to count here because you’ve got to get to eh last bit before you get to five and then throw it.”
“Killing the beastie would be a great deed, and dying in the attempt would be a mighty doom”