The Years of Plenty

“In the glow of the forge, our wealth sings louder than any hammer strike.” – Dwarven Proverb, Era of Prosperity

The dwarves remember the Years of Plenty not with songs of battle or tales of hardship, but with quiet reverence for a golden age unmatched in the annals of their history. From 2600 BGW to 2000 BGW, the halls of Dumatharun and the forgeholds of Steerbright overflowed with wealth, and the very mountains themselves seemed to yield their riches willingly.

A World Forged in Gold and Fire

Drakthorite veins stretched endlessly beneath the Dragon Spine Mountains, gleaming like rivers of frozen lightning in the deep quarries. Mines, once yielding iron and copper, now spilled gems the size of a warrior’s fist and gold so pure it shimmered faintly even in the dim light of the lower tunnels. Storehouses grew fat with grain and stonefruit, drawn from vast subterranean farms carved beneath the mountain roots, warmed by the heat of molten rivers.

Dwarven architects, their skill refined across generations, carved new halls that spiraled upward toward the peaks of Kharak-Dur and descended further into the black than any had dared before. Great highways, inlaid with shimmering veins of Drakthorite, connected forgehold to forgehold, allowing caravans to pass freely and without fear of ambush.

The Peak of Civilization

At the height of their prosperity, no force dared challenge the dwarves. Their fortresses stood impregnable, their warriors clad in armor so finely crafted that even blades of enchanted steel could barely scratch it. The Gilded Paths became arteries of trade, carrying dwarven goods to the elves of Lumispire and the human enclaves of the lowlands.

Even the skies seemed to bless the dwarves, for storms bypassed the mountain peaks, leaving their granaries untouched. Forges roared day and night, their smoke billowing from great stone stacks that rose like titans above the peaks, each one singing of the wealth and strength held below.

Growth Without End

The dwarves’ numbers swelled during these years. It was said that for every flame lit in the halls of Dumatharun, a hundred dwarves were born to carry on the craft. New forgeholds were established, their gates opening with the ringing of hammers and the raising of clan banners.

• Gamdaron, the Hall of the Golden Vein, was founded atop a rich deposit of gold, becoming the wealthiest forgehold outside of Dumatharun.
• Hul Falduhr, the Anvilskies, rose from the mountainside itself, a fortress so tall its peak vanished into the clouds.
• Gurn Dorul, the Deepstone Hold, stretched so far into the mountain that its lowest chambers were said to touch the molten heart of the world.

The Artisan’s Age

While the warriors of the Deepguard trained tirelessly, it was the artisans who became the pride of the dwarves. In these years, craftsmanship reached unparalleled levels. Dwarves no longer simply forged weapons of war—they crafted masterpieces.

• Hearth-blades, swords made not for battle but to hang above a family’s forge, became symbols of prosperity and honor.
• Crest-crowns were fashioned for forgehold lords, each one bearing the sigil of their clan inlaid with rare gemstones.
• Living Statues, massive automatons shaped from Drakthorite and bronze, stood guard over the deepest vaults, moving only when intruders trespassed.

Legends Forged in Peace

Though peace reigned, the dwarves still honored the old traditions of battle, hosting great festivals of strength and skill. The Games of Iron, held every ten years, saw dwarves compete in hammer-throwing, stone-carving, and barehanded wrestling—feats not of war, but of pride and celebration.

In 2126 BGW, the legendary weapon known as Forgefather’s Edge was crafted in Thrangrim’s flames, not as a tool for war, but as a symbol of unity. It was said that its blade could cut stone with a whisper, and it was gifted to the Forgefather whose clan had contributed the most to Dumatharun’s expansion that decade.

The Beginning of the End

But even in the glow of prosperity, shadows stretched at the edges of dwarven lands. As their forges blazed brighter, the deep tunnels stretched thinner, and whispers of forgotten things beneath the mountain began to surface. The Writings of Yarlwind resurfaced during this time, its warnings echoing through empty tunnels long abandoned by miners:

"The deeper we carve, the closer the dark comes to claim the stone."

It was a prophecy few heeded, for the dwarves believed their strength to be eternal. But in the dark places of Nak-Tharud, where silver once sealed the bones of Nalgrith, the earth shifted in ways unseen.

Though the dwarves could not yet know it, the Years of Plenty would soon give way to an age of war, and the mountain’s greatest threat would not rise from below—but from the horizons beyond their sight.