[hider=STONE DWARVES OF STENRESTER]


[center][img]https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/warhammerfb/images/0/08/Dwarf_Slayer.PNG/[/img][/center]

[h3][center][color=FF370A][b]Nation Name[/b][/color]
 Stenrester [/center][/h3]

[center][color=FF370A][b]Government[/b][/color]
 Monarch[/center]

[center][color=FF370A][b]Demographics[/b][/color]
 DWARVES[/center]

[center][color=FF370A][b]Population[/b][/color]
 400K[/center]

[color=FF370A][b]Claimed Territory[/b][/color]: The Northern Mountain ranges of the continent once were a cohesive whole. Stretching to the tip of the south and ranging all the way to the staggering monoliths of the Stor Sten. Then the great dragons attacked and crumbled much of it, leaving the lush woodlands barren and infertile to all but hardy scrubs. Then the Storm hit, and its wuthering gales turned mountains that once eclipsed the world in their shadows to pebbles. Its once solid landmass drowned in endless rain, turning a country into a dozen dozen peninsulas and islands that scattered across the sea. These days the mountains that remain scrape the clouds, but have no claim to their former heights of glory, but the people who live within them still lay claim to their ancestral homelands. Even if they have to build a few more boats then they would like.

On the plus side, they like fishing. Strange.

[color=FF370A][b]History[/b][/color]: It is said that the Northern Dwarves were the first to be hit by that cataclysmic storm eons ago. In the age of the last great king, [b]DRAK GNORRISON[/b], when he rallied the great armies of the underworld empire to march upon elder dragons that had long terrorised our people and the world at large. It is said when the King's last roar of defiance matched the deathknell screams of the wyrm [b]Dödare [/b]did they both echo the first howling winds of the Storm.

So the records say, for the world has changed. Long has the empire fallen to ruin with knowledge to never be reclaimed. We who were born of stone have become entwined with it in body and soul, and there will no longer be a great king. Merely hollow shells that reverberate the last expulsion of rage. Baying for blood and vengeance from an enemy that has no form, spitting out grudges and oaths that cannot be fulfilled.

Once proud and noble, the Northern dwarves are more barbarians now. Tossing aside their grand histories of grand machines and powerful runic magics to embrace drink and axe, wading into battles unasked and slaughtering a grand toll before they fall or disappear. Always seeking a greater and greater foe.

The modern day dwarf has lost much of the rage of their ancestors, enough to look out at the great world and see others rise. Perhaps with an eye bloodshot with anger, or one that gleams with the old riches of their holds and the cataloged knowledge of how they once plundered the under earth's riches 

[color=FF370A][b]Culture[/b][/color]: Simple is the life of a Dwarf. One spent in battle, drinking, or some combination of the two or preparing for such. Respect is earned from the biggest things slain or the highest quality ales, and few in between. There are still builders, and cobblers and farmers and all the things that a society needs to function. They are not ostracized or outcast, but the type of folk that find solace in such tasks tend to not be the kind that prefer to reside with the wider society, and the wider society in kind are content to thank them for their work and let them go about their soft ways.

[color=FF370A][b]Governance and Politics[/b][/color]:  The average dwarf has little care for political 
Concerns. The king handles mostly everything and all follow his order. Even the few scattered clan heads rarely do anything beyond voice the occasional concern of the people, concerns that are usually valid enough to be acted upon by the King.

[color=FF370A][b]Technology:[/b][/color] If there is one facet of the Northern Dwarves that never quite faded, was their craftsmanship. Sure they lack the grand forges of yesteryear, but metal and stone are theirs to craft. And they prefer the more simple things now. No longer do they build golems that border on magic with only gears, or great war machines. Now they have a good axe and sturdy armor, for those who wear such things.

Though, they have not neglected such basic things like agriculture or medicine. No dwarf wants to be hungry or miss something over the sniffles. Even if their plantations tend to have a more unusual underground tint or food have a touch more gravel then the softer races might find acceptable. 

[color=FF370A][b]Military Overview[/b][/color]: In truth Stenrester has no properly organized military. Most dwarves like to fight, are well trained, and are in general tenacious bastards. They are quick to organize when called, and fight like brothers with a lifetime side by side.

That speaking, the average ‘soldier’ has but the strength of arm and a sturdy axe, hammer, pick, or some other weapon. They are barechested with towering hair and stylized beards. Yet this is not the pure detriment that would plague the softer races for a dwarf is literally harder. Skin like stone and bones like iron with breath that chills the air. They are hardly impervious, but many a blade and claw has found itself chipped with only scratches to tell of its wound.

On the other side, the few dwarves who go and wear things like plate are juggernauts on the battlefield. They are as close to a walking fortress as a footsoldier can be, slow, unstoppable, and with voices like avalanches. Few are those who wear such armor, many see it as cowardly and balk at the thought. After all, this is a people who had to have a kingly decree issued to wear pants to battle much less proper armor. No, outside of the Kings Mountainclad elites and the strange smith trying out their work or dwarves who are truly out to make sure something is killed, the most one would see is decorative bands of metal or leathers.

It would be a chore of great foolishness to truly rouse the dwarves of Stenrester to true war. To stoke the old flames to such a degree would be enough for them to prove once more why they were once lauded as the lords of war and machine, even if their old constructs are lost and the new ones are barely an ember. It is still an ember from a fire that once singed the [i]world[/i].

[color=FF370A][b]Additional[/b][/color]: Deep within the northern wastes lies the frozen death, [b]Dodar Kalla[/b]. The last spawn of Dödare, that terrible dragon whose breath froze the seas and mere presence caused the permafrost that, to this day, leaves much of the north a wasteland. She is vengeance, seeking blood in much the same way the Northern Dwarves do, only hers is focused. Year after year does she raid our border, generation after generation does the King head into the endless blizzards that surround her den and fight for days only to fall to her fury. 

[b]Dodar Kalla[/b] is the blight of the north, yet it has been an age since a king has fought her and an age since she attacked. For the last king fell ill at a young age and carried the marks for his whole life, ultimately becoming a scholar king that cooled the simmering heat of the dwarven soul instead of a warrior like his lineage. Now the realm is left in an uncertain limbo, for none can expect what she will do next but all know that our King will stand ready to repel it.


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