An essay by Gretchan Pax
The penchant for internecine warfare is not unique to humans or ogres or goblins or any of a host of other races known for savage brutality and devastating conflict. It seems that wild young peoples cannot refrain from destroying themselves or their kin in the convulsive violence of great wars. Ogres, goblins, and others of that ilk live lives of constant violence, raiding and thieving and making war for sport. Theirs is an existence wherein the strong always lords power over the weak. So it is too with the tangled affairs of humankind, for man never seems to weary of endlessly battling over land, treasure, trade, and religion.
Perhaps it is more surprising that even among the elder peoples of Krynn, most notably the elves and the dwarves, such squabbling has been a source of historical feuds dating back to the Age of Starbirth. Neither is it surprising that such conflict continues even in the modern, civilized Age of Mortals, wherein we now all live. While visionary leaders have arisen through the centuries, they have been unable to stem the never-ending forces of destruction and chaos. As in the case with all conflict, it seems that wars between related peoples have the capacity for greater violence, deeper cruelty, and longer-lasting schisms than strife waged between less closely aligned populations. For the elves, this truth is most evidenced by the long and seemingly irreparable rift between the ancient realm of Silvanesti, and the newer (though still venerable) nation of Qualinesti. In fact, it may be observed that the conflict between these two nations actually outlasted the nations themselves.
In the case of the dwarves, the schisms between these “Peoples of the Rock” are most vividly etched by the experience of the Cataclysm, when the gods rained their destruction down upon the world. As all the peoples of Krynn reeled from the chaos, expecting annihilation and violent death, the mountain dwarves in their great undermountain fortress of Thorbardin sealed the gates of their kingdom, locking their blood-kin, the hill dwarves, out of the shelter, leaving them exposed to the rain of disaster tumbling downward from the skies.
It was an act of monstrous selfishness-to be sure, an act born of fear-and it left clan-splitting scars that continued to fester, to become infected, to burst into poisonous disease, whenever these two mighty branches of the dwarf tree meet. It infuses the memory, the very beings, of mountain and hill dwarves alike, shaping hatreds and prejudices and always serving as a ready source of fear. It is that legacy, as well as the pounding impact of the Cataclysm itself, that has shaped the conflicts that, to this day, result in battles and violence and brutal campaigns motivated by greed and envy.
During the dawning ages of Krynn, dwarves established mighty nations in three distinct parts of Ansalon. Thoradin was the First Home, birthplace of the dwarf race and a long-standing nation of industrious, productive peoples. In the very center of the continent of Ansalon, the Khalkist Mountains formed the roof over Thoradin, a fortress that neither man nor giant nor dragon could assail. But Thoradin could not stand against the gods, and the Cataclysm destroyed much of those hallowed halls, leaving only the remnant-soon to become diseased and corrupt-of miserable Zhakar.
Mightiest of all the dwarven nations was great Thorbardin, started by dwarves who came from Thoradin, though before long the Second Home of the dwarves outshone the first in size, population, and splendor. The undermountain realm beneath the peaks of the high Kharolis housed great cities, a teeming transportation network, and great manufacturing centers. Here the Hylar, the Theiwar and Daergar, the Daewar and the Klar, and even the wretched Aghar, dwelled side by side in their subterranean cities, centered around the vast Urkhan Sea.
Hundreds of miles to the north rise the Garnet Mountains, and they, too, are home to an underground nation of mountain dwarves. Kayolin is not so large as Thorbardin, and it hasn’t attracted as much attention from potential antagonists. Kayolin has survived through the ages with fewer convulsive changes than either of the other great nations, and today it approaches a status of national identity that is all its own.
And beyond the mountain dwarves, the true historian cannot ignore the Neidar, the hill dwarves. Indistinguishable from each other by appearance, the hill dwarves are descendants of dwarves who long ago chose to live on the surface of the world rather than underneath it. Because of this, the Neidar are more dispersed than the mountain dwarves. They lack any concentrated nation along the lines of Kayolin or Thorbardin, and the hill dwarves live in many parts of the world, usually in towns or villages that are nominally independent, but sometimes these communities become part of whatever surrounding surface nation, usually human-controlled, in which they find themselves.
The three major dwarven realms of the world, which in the past were linked through trade, culture, and easy land routes of travel, were divided by the Cataclysm. The dwarves of the Khalkist, in the rugged mountains south of Sanction, were essentially cut off from all contact with the two other great dwarven kingdoms. It was the expedition of the Mad Prophet, Severus Stonehand, who brought dwarf culture back to the First Home. Though the Daewar exiles face many challenges, including fiery mountains and hostile neighbors, they strive to forge a new nation upon the ruins of the old.
My initial studies concerning Kayolin have been limited by a lack of access. However, it is known that the dwarven nation under the Garnet range has been spared much of the tumult that has rocked Thorbardin. Ruled by a governor who is technically subordinate to the high king in Thorbardin, Kayolin has been a de facto independent state since the time of the Cataclysm. Prior to that devastating event, much overland trade linked the two nations. But with the creation of the Newsea, the land connection between Kayolin and Thorbardin was severed, and with it most communication and virtually all trade between these two hallowed lands ceased.
Still, Kayolin is known to be involved in affairs of Northern Ansalon, including having forged at least a loose alliance with the empire of Solamnia. That dwarven realm is the source of the highest-quality steel in the world, and its mines, delving ever deeper, continue to tap into the closely held mineral wealth of Krynn. Its great city, Garnet Thax, is a wonder of subterranean architecture, with its many levels arrayed around the virtually bottomless shaft know as the Governor’s Atrium.
Lacking contact with the other dwarven realms, some Kayolin dwarves have advocated complete independence. I have a report from a reliable source that the governor has taken to calling himself “king” and that Kayolin no longer views itself as a member of the greater dwarf society. I have been unable to confirm this information with my own observations, but events have conspired to make it possible for me to visit Kayolin sometime in the near future.
In Thorbardin itself, the kingdom has been usurped. The former thane of the Hylar, the last legitimately appointed high king in all dwarvendom, was Tarn Bellowgranite. He was driven from his realm by a revolution led by another Hylar, Jungor Stonespringer. With several hundred followers, Bellowgranite withdrew to the fortress of Pax Tharkas, where he is expected to live out his days.
The fanatical dwarves who ejected him seem determined to turn their backs upon the world. They have sealed both of the great gates that connected Thorbardin to the outside world. Foreign dwarves and the rare representatives of other races were simply rounded up and, in many cases, executed. This is the harsh truth of Thorbardin today: it is a nation, and a people, which has completely and utterly turned its back upon the rest of the world.
One day, however, that world may come and find them.