Driller

Boots echo in rocky tunnels beneath Steelgale’s iron mountains. The Driller’s gauntlets—reinforced with steel plates and powered by piston-driven joints—spit sparks as they bore through rock face. Dust chokes the air, and each strike of the drillbit sends tremors along the shaft.   They work where sunlight never reaches, mapping veins of ore, tunneling for coal, oil, or iron. Faced with collapsing rock, heat, or gas pockets, they press on—because without what they dig, the forges go silent, the forges that feed Steelgale’s power, its weapons, its reach.