There are few sights as magnificent and terrifying as the Mountain King at the head of a Dwarven Army. By right of birth and by right of might, he is the sovereign of all Dwarvenkind, the undisputed ruler of all that lies beneath Mountains of Despair. His warlike bellow leads his kin to ever-greater feats of valour, and his skill is rightly feared by Ogryn and Demon alike.

Still a young Prince, he had fought and slain a would-be king of the bloodthirsty Ogryns that sought to carve their domain from the outlying - and defenseless, as they imagined in their hubris - lands of the Dwarves. Later, he rallied his kindred against the forces of Siroth and personally defeated countless foes and the foul Demon that led the invasion. Now, he marches forth with the vanguard of the Dwarves for it is the King’s duty to assure his people remain safe and all who dare threaten them are thwarted.  

Armed with an axe that is said to have belonged to the progenitor of all the Dwarves, the Mountain King scatters his foes left and right with the fury of an awakened volcano. No armour can be enough to stop his fearsome weapon, not even powerful protective magic can turn it aside. To win the King’s respect and assistance is difficult, as is always the case with Dwarves, but his strength would be an undeniable asset to the Champions of Lumaya.

Though a craftsman - a mason, to be precise - by trade, the Rock Breaker took up arms gladly when Siroth’s forces poured into the Dwarven Realm. He first faced the demonic horrors when his town was breached and overrun. Then, a desperate effort by the local militia and what remained of the Town Guard managed to do the impossible and turn the tide of darkness back. 

With no training to wield an axe or spear, the Rock Breaker used the only weapon he had at the time - his mason hammer. A seemingly hopeless endeavour turned out to be surprisingly efficient as a dozen lesser demons fell beneath his weapon’s wild swings. And although his and his brethren’s courage ensured victory that day, the war was far from over. He would not bear staying behind and volunteered to join the Dwarven forces that marched to the surface.  

Now bearing a hero’s helm and a war hammer more suitable for battle - as well as a new nickname - the Rock Breaker fights with bluster that turns the eyes of many-an-enemy to him. But that suits the Dwarven warrior just fine. After all, the more foes try to bring him down, the more freedom his own allies have to enact their plans.

Like the great Kingdoms of Kaerok and Aravia, the Dwarves follow a loosely feudal system based around a core of noble bloodlines. Descended from the heroes and legends of old, these nobles take up the burden of leadership both in times of peace and in times of war. Jarls are numerous among them - the rulers of smaller Dwarven towns and fortresses that are spread throughout the entire underground realm.

But by ancient tradition, the leaders must fight alongside their armies as honour and courage demand. It is not uncommon to see old, grizzled Dwarves leading their forces or smaller bands of Champions in person.  

Armed with weapons and armour that has survived generations, this Grizzled Jarl is a force to be reckoned with. Mighty enchantments strengthen the armour of his allies to take the steel of their foes unscratched, just like his own shield can turn aside axe and mace alike. 

Dwarven heavy infantry is notorious for holding the line against impossible odds, standing firm like a cliff before the onslaught of waves. Their armour can take the mightiest of blows without as much as denting, their shields form an impenetrable wall, and as their foes retreat exhausted, the line marches forth in perfect formation to the sounds of drums and horns.

When their flails land, they cripple and weaken the foe. Some are even fitted with braziers of alchemic fire, allowing a precise blow to set its target ablaze. The main weapon of the Bulwark, however, is his discipline and defensive tactics that not only repel the enemy but also keep them at a disadvantage for as long as possible. 

It is a well-known fact that a proper Dwarf is made up of these three essential elements: a beard, a heavy armour along with an axe or shield, and a foul temper. Indeed, Dwarves absolutely need to complain about something constantly, lest they wither away - so the wisdom of High Elves says anyway. The Grumblers personify that, albeit few call them that to their faces. These veteran warriors make up the backbone of many Dwarven armies, and their skill is only matched by their constant displeasure with this or that.

But one should not be fooled by this dour attitude. Like many of their kind, Grumblers will gladly put themselves in harm’s way for their allies and fight to their last breath if they have to. It would be difficult to find a more dedicated friend, even if securing the respect of grizzled Dwarven soldiers is no easy task.

Beast Wrestlers fill a curious niche in the Dwarven society. Theirs is the path of a hunter, and although the underground reaches of their Kingdom are arguably not as rich in game as the lands above there, it is enough. These beasts are often dangerous, and the caverns are home to creatures far worse than predatory giant centipedes.

This the Beast Wrestlers are skilled fighters all. They learn the art of dazing their prey in battle and are quite capable of ensuring it does not rise again after being felled once - far too many critters of the deep tend to be hard to kill.

Where some hunters enjoy the thrill that their craft brings, for some it is not enough. The Master Butcher is exceptionally old and has long transcended the dullness of tracking and slaughtering beasts. In truth, his favoured prey are the outcasts that dwell in the caverns. And he displays the grisly trophies gathered from those hunts with unsettling pride. 

Obnoxious and bossy, the Master Butcher is nonetheless no fool. His orders may be made up of insults and petty demands, but they are usually sound. On the bright side, the less-than-subtle manner of the old man often brings him to the foe’s attention and leaves the rest of his party to fight unhindered.  

And though few would accuse this Dwarf of secretly possessing a heart of gold, some strange sorcery transforms his lifeblood into soothing waves of healing magic. Some say that this is his punishment, bestowed by a priestess of Lumaya that he had wronged. But as the Butcher goes into bouts of raving rage when asked about it, no one had been able to find out the truth of the matter thus far.

Although the Dwarves prefer to rely on their craft, magic is not alien to them. Indeed, many of the arms and amour that come out of their blazing forges are enchanted with a variety of spells. But some go further than that still.

It is not uncommon for wealthy Jarls to arm their best warriors with equipment that has been steeped in magic or hexed in a very specific way. Weapons that dissipate and block the foe’s own magical enhancements are a particularly popular choice. Sometimes, the warriors themselves are subjected to a variety of spells to strengthen them or even just change their appearance to a more intimidating one.  

The rank-and-file Line Infantry of the Dwarves is drafted from poor townsfolk, those unable to master a craft to the point of becoming successful and earning enough silver to afford proper equipment. Still, the Jarls provide warriors with simple and sturdy leather armour along with a spear and shield. Trained to fight in defensive formations, the Line Infantry excels at goading the foe into a prolonged engagement where their spears and amassed defenses allow them to hold on while more specialized warriors encircle the enemy.

Slicers are outcasts, exiles and criminals alike that have for one reason or the other been forced outside the rigidly disciplined Dwarven society. Many of them were forced to survive in the caverns beyond the safe confines of their cities, or have gone to the surface to seek fortune as mercenaries and bandits.

Now with the Dwarven Champions on the march, these pariahs are offered full pardon if they take up arms in the name of their kin and King. Many have taken the chance and flock the Lumaya’s chosen, bearing their broadswords and little else. These warriors have little to lose and will often fight like madmen because of it. 

Sacred Order Reinforcements

Purifiers rose to fame as a vigilante Order that specialized in hunting demons that somehow found their way into the material realm of Teleria, or the Undead that were a far more common threat. Though they were seen as mavericks and, sometimes, dangerous delinquents, the sheer skill of these men and women could not be denied. In time, the Magister of the Sacred Order found it easier to issue a holy writ that allowed the Purifiers to join Lumaya’s cause with official sanction - if only so they could be held on a shorter leash. 

How successful that was is… arguable, for the Purifiers still enjoy a measure of independence and a somewhat romanticized reputation. This arbalester certainly revels in the freedom her position allows, as well as a chance to put a few quarrels into her unholy foes. 

Armed with blessed ammunition and a sharp mind, the Sanctioned Purifier seeks to wrongfoot and thwart her foes at every turn. And when the time is right - she directs her allies to deliver a truly devastating blow that few foes have any hope of withstanding.

It takes both great skill and unshakable faith to rise in the ranks of the Sacred Order. Be it among its warriors and Knights Militant, or the healers of the Order. A Mother Superior of the Hospitallers is well-versed in both the more grounded forms of healing and the appropriate prayers and litanies that can harness the power of Lumaya’s divine grace.

Though loathe to do violence, she shall fight if called upon, blinding the enemy and throwing their attacks astray. But it is the well-being of her allies that concerns her the most, and thus Mother Superior shall focus on her foremost duties when possible.