Farinholme

High in the Stormcast Mountains of northern Meyland lies Farinholme, a dwarven stronghold that answers only to the forces of nature and the blood of its kin. Carved into the rugged cliffs, it stands as a testament to the dwarves' unwavering respect for the sky above and the stone below, where defiance is a birthright and survival is a matter of faith. In Farinholme, the dwarves are shaped not by courts or wealth, but by fierce winds, resilient steel, and the scars of their struggles. Although they are technically a vassal of the Silver Kingdom, their loyalty is as thin as the mountain air, driven more by necessity than true allegiance. To the dwarves of Farinholme, their existence is not upheld by royal commands, but rather by the mercy of the storm.   Farinholme is hewn into the storm-battered spine of the Stormcast Mountains, looming over the Dagmurn Highlands where no other dwarven hold dares to tread. These mountains are not just tall; they are merciless. Relentless blizzards lash against the jagged cliffs, and lightning forks between the stone spires with alarming regularity. Avalanches are a frequent threat, and even the most experienced climbers recount tales of sudden gusts that can sweep a person off their feet.

Geography

At the heart of Stormcast Mountains lies Stormcast Citadel, the capital of Farinholme, perched higher than any other dwarven seat in Meyland. Entirely encased within the mountain’s uppermost ridge. The citadel’s battlements are crowned with mithral thundercatchers—towering rods that draw the fury of the skies into the hold’s thunderforges and light the forge shrines of Khazmorg with heat from the skies. Beneath the surface winds a labyrinthine network of echoing halls, tomb-fortresses, and towering aeries that house giant eagles; great avian beasts bred and bonded to the dwarves of Farinholme for generations untold.

Culture & Traditions

Farinholme's culture is one of reverence for the primal elements of stone and storm. Every child learns to fight not out of ambition but as ritual, seeing this as an act of worship to Khazmorg, their patron ancestor god of storms, war, the sky, and the wilderness. He is their diety and their ancestral hammer. They are raised in rain, tested by wind, and honored in snowfall.   The ruling Clan Freefeather, known for its boisterous pride and anti-authoritarian leanings, traces its lineage to Thrain Freefeather, the slayer of the great wyvern Garavok in times of old during the Golden Age of Meyland. Their descendants wear the Freefeather Mantle, a relic woven from the furs of the most dangerous mountain creatures, and the signature wings of Garavok.   Each noble of the clan bonds with a giant at birth. That bond is sacred. If the eagle dies, the dwarf casts themself from the Roost. If the dwarf dies, the eagle dives into the storm.   The faith of Farinholme is inseparable from the worship of their ancestral god, Khazmorg. His presence echoes in every thunderclap, resonates in the rhythm of war drums, and blazes in the heart of every forge. His name is carved into stone pillars, whispered before battle, and shouted into the storm. Farinholme is the spiritual heart of Khazmorg’s worship in Meyland, and his values—ferocity, endurance, and sacred defiance—are not just revered, but lived, etched into the marrow of its people. Farinholme is the foremost center for Khazmorg worshippers in Meyland, and as such his principles suffuse its culture.

Sovereignty & Scars

Farinholme’s resistance to outside rule is born not of arrogance, but history. During the reign of the White Dragon Malinis, the hold was frozen, conquered, and turned into a lair. Her frost kobolds overran its halls; its forges froze solid; its spirit was nearly shattered.   Liberation came from Rathgar Whitefang and the Sapphire Assembly, who used fire-magic and molten iron to strike the killing blow. Malinis’ body was cast into the forge she had sealed. Her skull sits now in Hunter’s Keep, but Farinholme has never forgotten. The storm cannot be tamed.   Still, its independence is tempered by realism. Without the Silver Kingdom's Iron Shield patrolling the Highlands, Farinholme would stand alone against the Ogre clans of Daran Uum. It endures the Silver Crown's presence, knowing that sovereignty means nothing if you're dead.

Defense & Conflict

Farinholme does not seek war, but it will never turn from it. Its warriors are not trained for conquest, but for defiance—for holding the line when enemies descend from passes high and low. The defenders of the hold are few in number, but their role is sacred. Stormriders patrol the skies atop giant eagles, scanning the horizons for signs of movement in the snowbound valleys. On the battlements and mountain paths, the ironguard of Farinholme stand ready, berserkers wielding thunderous greathammers and carrying the fury of Khazmorg in their veins. Within the halls of power, the Farinholme Mountainguard protect Queen Mara with armor forged in lightning and etched with the names of ancestors long fallen. When the sky blackens and war calls, shamans that imbue their hammers and axes with primal elements take their place.   Their greatest foes are the ogre clans of Daran Uum and the scattered warbands that haunt the Dagmurn Highlands. These brutal raids are relentless, but Farinholme remains unmoved. It fights not for expansion or glory, but to preserve the mountain, the storm, and the sacred order etched into the hold’s foundation.

Exports & Craft

Farinholme's crafts are forged in thunder and refined in tradition. Chief among its exports is mithral—a gleaming, lightweight metal found in abundance within the Stormcast Mountains. These mountains are riddled with deep-running veins of mithral, made all the more valuable by their exposure to elemental storms. Smiths of Farinholme treat mithral like sacred ore, forging it into weapons and armor of exceptional quality, prized across the realms for their strength and resilience.   The hold’s rune-carvers are artisans of great renown, etching tattoos and battle Runes into steel and flesh alike using ash, silver, and blood-binding rituals. Their work is deeply spiritual, channeling the ancestral rage and protective oaths of Khazmorg himself.   Feathers from giant eagles, griffons, and hippogriffs, meanwhile, are among the hold’s most treasured materials. Gathered from the great roosts beneath Stormcast Citadel, these feathers are used in ceremonial garb, magical rituals, and the fletching of enchanted arrows.

Beliefs & Outlook

The people of Farinholme bow to no law not carved in stone or etched in lightning. They do not conquer, for they are libertarian in spirit, clan-loyal above all, and fiercely skeptical of centralized power. To them, strength is justice, and the storm chooses its kin. Many dwarves of Farinholme believe they are not better than other dwarves—just more honest about what survival costs.