The days of the apocalypse grew darker. Continents burned, the moon cracked, and winds of magic were
unbound from the vortex created to stabilize the world so many centuries ago. In the wake
of destruction, furred masses of rats erupt from the Under Empire to seize weakened settlements and
unsuspecting strongholds. Proving their superior cunning with the destruction of the Black Pyramid,
the Skaven had secured a warfront with an ancient adversary. Directing their beady
red eyes upon the mountain holds of the Dwarfs, they devised a bold invasion into the most stoutly
protected holds and cities known in the Warhammer Fantasy World. Welcome to our latest episode on
the End Times of Warhammer Fantasy, where we will cover the fall of the Dwarf Kingdoms.
"We sons of Grungni may have drunk deep from the bitter waters of misfortune,
but we yet survive. Whilst a single Dwarf draws breath, we will fight the evils that assail us,
and we will never, ever give up." —Hengist Stonebelly, Dwarf Longbeard
Also known as the Elder Race or the Dawi, the Dwarves were among the oldest, proudest,
and richest of the known mortal races. Renowned for their stubborn nature, the End Times military
tactics of the Dwarf Empire, or the Karaz Ankor as they call it in their tongue of Khazalid, relied
on the unmatched artillery and expert defensive stonemasonry of their holds. Unlike Men and Elves,
Dwarfs were unable to channel, let alone perceive the Winds of Magic and instead developed the
closely guarded art of Runesmithing. Without igniting the dangerous power within the winds,
the Runesmiths would trap the potent magic and hold it safely in their craft. As the
inevitable march of doom closed in around their mountain homes, long-hoarded vaults
of these valuable weapons would be opened in hopes of withstanding the coming storm…
The expansion of the Skaven warfront accelerated with horrifying efficiency after the supremely
successful offensive in Estalia and Tilea. The coordination between clans reached the most
coherent in Under Empire history during the End Times, seen when the lesser clans hidden deep in
the mountain ranges confederated and surprised Zhufbar with a siege under the leadership of
Clan Ferrik. Simultaneously, Ikit Claw led an assault on Karak Kadrin with the underground
aid of Clan Kreepus and Clan Moulder. At the coast of Barak Varr, the harbour strongholds
encountered invading Skaven Clanfleets, and in the South, Clan Mors marched for Karak Eight
Peaks. Assaulted from so many fronts, the Dwarfs fell for the initial scheme of the Lord of Decay;
to isolate the Dwarfs from one another and whittle them down through attrition.
"We will bring down their decaying empire and the children of the Horned Rat shall
inherit the ruins. I will see that it is Clan Mors that emerges pre-eminent from
this extermination. Finish them quickly. Go to help the others complete the tasks
they will not be able to finish on their own. Clan Mors must look
strong. Clan Mors must be victorious!" —Lord Gnawdwell, Warlord of Clan Mors
When it became clear that the Dwarf Empire was feeling the pressure of multiple sieges,
Lord Gnawdwell decreed that the prize of Karaz-a-Karak, the ancient dwarf hold of
Eight Peaks, would go to none but Clan Mors alone. The mountain hold had been in a constant struggle
for control between Dwarfs, Greenskins, and Skaven for some time, and so Gnawdwell
ordered his protégé Queek Headtaker to lead the hordes of rats into the mountain and claim it for
Mors. The bulk of the southern skaven armies gnawed their way into the mountain in numbers
uncountable and sprung an ambush upon the green skins holding a strategic point in the peaks.
[Battle at Karak Eight Peaks]
Tunnelling across the mountain, the suffocating masses of slaves pushed the occupying greenskins
through the crossroads and out of the mountain into Grobi town. Queek very nearly killed Skarsnik
during the retreat but stopped his pursuit once outside the Ancestor Vault to regroup
his infantry. Deep beneath the two armies in The Trench, a massive reinforcement of one hundred
thousand skaven from thirty-eight different warlord clans and several thousand Clan Moulder
warbeasts tunnelled up towards the surface. For a moment, Queek considered sabotaging his
own reinforcements but did not commit to invoking the wrath of Gnawdwell. Instead, Queek organized
the placement of several warp bombs along the major peaks of the city, and in their detonation,
annihilated Karah Nar and severely damaged the rest. The Greenskins were forced to retreat
further into the mountain and into the mines. From the trenches, seventy thousand clanrats
gnawed upwards into The Grand Avenue and poured into The Hall of Reckoning, surprising the
garrison of defending dwarfs. Remaining stalwart in their duty, the throng of Dawi repelled the
Skaven and maintained control over the hall. Meanwhile, entreating the routed Greenskins with
a tempting offer, Verminlord Soothgnawer promised Skarsnik a portion of Karak Eight Peaks when the
battle had been won in exchange for attacking the Halls of Clan Skalfdom. Even if Skarsnik
knew the folly of trusting a rat, the greenskins agreed to the temporary alliance and lay in wait
beneath the King’s Hall until the right moment… Above ground, Queek Headdtaker broke the lull
of battle with a ferocious charge, advancing against the Great Gate of Defiance with his
infamous red guard. Poisoned globes from a team of Vatbacks sailed over the red guard and landed
inside the gatehouses and battlements, creating a poisonous miasma that gave the mutant beasts time
to dismantle the gate. Once the massive door had been opened, an imposing wall of armoured
stone plait dwarfs stubbornly prevented any further advancement into The King’s Hall. There,
surrounded by his legendary Iron Brotherhood, the King of Karak Eight Peaks, Belegar Ironhammer,
awaited another fateful meeting with the Skaven that had long tried and failed to claim his head.
In the heat of the assault on the gates, a horn sounded from the peak of Karag Lhune. Down the
mountain, barreling towards the front lines of the Skaven, lumbering packs of Ogre Mercenaries and
Mournfang Cavalry answered the call. Taken totally by surprise, the Skaven morale shattered, and the
rat packs fell back to Grobi town, their retreat covered by deadeye snipers pelting into the
fat bodies of the ogres. When it seemed that the dwarves were gaining a foothold, another surprise
attack yet again turned the tides of battle. From the mines, Skarsnik’s greenskins sprung
the promised attack on the unsuspecting Hall of Clan Skalfdon. Besieged from both over and
under their mountain, word quickly spread of Skarsnik’s successful capture of the Clan Hall.
Upon receiving the news, the Ogre Mercenaries betrayed the dwarfs and began a renewed assault
on the Great Gate of Defiance. The absolute chaos of the quickly changing tide of battle led to a
slaughter of dwarfs, ogre, orc and Skaven alike. The Grey Seer Kranskritt, leading the expertly
timed final wave of Skaven reinforcements up from the trenches and caves, called upon
his magic. The rocks and tunnels collapsed in the mines and Skalfdon clan hall, trapping Skarsnik’s
greenskins inside. Queek’s frontline committed to another charge at the gates in the chaos,
forcing the ogres to retreat and the dwarves to fall back into the King’s Hall. The warrior
king Belegar met Queek in single combat, refusing to capitulate to the Skaven invaders.
“Pathetic. Flea-ridden vermin, swift and twitchy. There's not a
Dwarf alive who isn't worth twenty of you." "Queek has killed many hundred beard-things.
Queek will kill one more very soon." "Probably. I am tired, and I am beaten,
and the memory of our last encounter festers still in my flesh. But even as
you hack the head from my neck, Queek, you will know that you could never best
me in more honourable circumstances." —Belegar Ironhammer faces Queek Headtaker
Surrounded by the spear points of Queek’s Red Guard, the King and the Warlord duelled for
what seemed like hours. Only when the King’s body could stand no longer did Queek land the Dwarf
Gouger’s spike through Belegar’s helmet, Queek himself simultaneously sustaining a near-fatal
wound under his armpit. Bloodied and battered, Queek claimed Belegar’s head for a trophy. No
dwarf nor greenskin survived as rats poured into the tunnels, and then Eight Peaks came
under total control of the Under Empire. In just as devastating as a loss in Karak
Eight Peaks, Slayer Keep in the north was lost to the genius of Ikit Claw after the
entire hold is suffocated with clouds of toxic gas. At the last possible moment,
a wind of magic sailed in through the mountain gates and found the last of the remaining dwarfs
awaiting their agonising death defending Karak Kadrin. The wind of Aqshy, the Lore of Fire,
bound itself to the Slayer King Ungrim Ironfist. A maelstrom of purging fire veiled itself around
the last of the Karak Kadrin garrison and banished any trace of the toxic miasma. Left behind were
uncountable dwarven casualties, and with a heavy and angered heart Ungrim made his way
south to the dwarven capital of Karaz-a-Karak. Refugees poured into Karaz-a-Karak with grave
news of the cracked moon, the endless tides of rats, a broken empire and the return of
Nagash. High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer, unable to ignore the signs of the times,
ordered the greatest vaults of weapons to be opened and prepared his throngs for war.
"For the entirety of my reign I have desired to march out with the axe-hosts of the dawi
kingdoms and exterminate the Skaven. Time and again I argued that this alone would save our
kind. But you counselled against it, you and your like, Nockkim. And so we find ourselves skulking
like trapped badgers in our hole, while our enemy, allowed to grow unchecked to uncountable numbers,
plots our final demise. No more!" —High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer.
Ikit, descended from the north, while Queek with Grey Lord Kasritt from the
south closed in on the Silver Road. At this point, the skaven numbered in the millions,
and converged onto the Granite Gate. Assaults on the defences were daily,
seldom giving the dwarfs time to breath and organise a counter to the innumerable rats. An
enormous belching of warpfire melted down Granite Gate just as the King emerged with ironbreaker
infantry and irondrake flamethrowers, but fifty cannons managed to fire their payload in the
last moment and obliterate the streaming tide of skavenslaves aiming to contest the King’s arrival.
Out of the smoke billowing off the squashed legion of skavenslaves, a mighty Verminlord stepped out
of a portal and onto the Silver Road before the Granite Gate. The High King challenged the
Verminlord to a duel, and in a shocking blow through the King’s runic Armour of Skaldour;
none before had ever cracked it. When it seemed that the war had been so easily won,
Thorgrim’s armour shone like silver as another wind of magic found its target. Chamon,
the Lore of Metal, bound to the High King and reinvigorated the warrior. He exploded
in righteous rage and hacked the Verminlord with the Axe of Grimnir, turning to shout his demands
of vengeance to the shocked onlooking Skaven army. "For the death of Hengo Baldusson and the loss of
ninety-seven ore carts of gromril, five hundred thaggoraki heads. For the loss of the lower deeps
of Karak Varn, two thousand thaggoraki hides. For the cruel slaying of the last kinsfolk of
Karak Azgal, nine hundred tails and hides. For the slaughter of the miners of Karak Akrar,
fifty thaggoraki hides! For the deaths of Runelord Krag and his seven apprentices,
and the loss of the rune of persistence, nine hundred tails! For the warpstone poisoning of
the Drak River, the life of Ikit Claw! For Karaz-a-Karak! For the Karaz Ankor!"
—High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer, Last King of Karaz Aknor.
[Battle of Karaz-a-Karak] Lines of smoke burst from the King’s missile
infantry onto the onlooking Skaven. The skies above the Silver Road turned dark from massive
magical pollution coming from the north. Organ guns were wheeled to the melted gates and began
peppering the skaven backlines with devastating barrages. Warp lightning cannons traded fire with
the dwarves, streaking green crackling blasts across the valley. A rush of doom-flayers weave
an advance towards the King’s front line, but they and the clanrats in their wake were blown
to smithereens by cannons expertly hidden in the surrounding rocks and bluffs of the gate.
Hoping to secure a path for their allies aboveground, a surprise pack of clanrats
emerge from freshly gnawed tunnels under the gate. For a moment, the guns and cannons silenced their
thunderous bombardment, and it seemed as if the dwarves had retreated into the mountain. The
skaven war machines approached the wounded gate unchallenged, and just as they had begun to fire
the door to the kingdom flung open. Thousands of howling beards charged out of the gate,
following the Throne of Power and reclaiming control of the disrupted war machines.
Falling for the false retreat, the first skaven wave suffered a decisive defeat and
the lightning cannons were obliterated. Armed with rune-infused weapons, the dwarves established an
uncontestable killing zone, burning a bloody path through the Skaven by the thousands. The dwarven
charge proved so effective that they managed to carve a way into the Rictus and Mors encampments
nearby and destroy the reserve artillery. Ikit Claw and a regiment of stormvermin
and warpfire throwers emerged from hidden tunnels and doused the High King’s frontline. Amazingly,
the dwarves marched through the warpfire unharmed and collided in melee with the ratmen. Again,
the skaven routed, and the momentum of victory seemed to sway to the side of the dwarves. But
as a brigade of doomwheels rolled up and over the hills, Thorgrim realized he had made a critical
error: his forces had strayed too far from the mountain, and were about to pay the price.
Speeding down the slope and crackling with unstable warp lightning, the doomwheels punched
through the armor of the dwarves and careened wildly across the lines of infantry. Packs
of skavenslaves rushed into the gaps and began isolating the dwarven companies. Once Thorgrim and
his everguard were cut off from the bulk of his forces, Queek rushed out from the skaven mobs with
powerful rat ogres and the Red Guard, crashing into the throng protecting Thorgrim. Overwhelmed
by the concentration of force, the Everguard began to lose ground. The King prepared to retreat,
but at the final moment a hailing of arrows pelted the flank of the Red Guard. From the foothills,
Ungrim Ironfist sallied out with Bugman’s Rangers to smite Queek’s brazen attack. Panicked by the
effective flank, skaven nightrunners dive into the brush around the rangers to try and
stall their advance, but were slaughtered by the superior warriors. The moment had been granted for
Thorgrim to enact vengeance, and so he shouted aloud the payment he demanded from the Skaven.
"For the Battle of Karak Azul, the head of Queek. For the killing of Belegar Angrund,
rightful king of Karak Eight Peaks, the head of Queek. For the death of many thousand dawi,
the head of Queek. Now die, you miserable son of the sewers."
—High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer, Last King of Karaz Aknor.
The Throne of Power was carried into single combat with Queek. The rat placed his faith
in his armour piercing Dwarf Gouger, but Thorgrim parried and cleaved the infamous
dawi-killing weapon in two with his runic axe. The King’s gauntlet swatted Queek’s sidesword away,
and thrust his hand in a crushing hold over the rat’s throat. Holding him high in his crushing
grasp for his warriors to see, Thorgrim shakes the Skaven’s body, snaps his neck,
and casts him aside with the many thousands of dead rats around. Queek had been defeated,
and a massive rout rippled through the Skaven ranks as the dwarfs secured the Silver Road.
Gyrobombers circled around the silver road and bombarded the Skaven as they evacuated the valley.
Thorgrim looked around the valley, the heavy cost to his kingdom weighing on his heart. Heavier,
and heavier he felt… until he realised that the invigorating power had left him entirely. His
armour lost its gleam and the Rune of Azamar, an artefact said to have been crafted by the
Ancestor God himself, sustained a crack. It was said that as long as the rune endured, so would
the Dwarf race… The King kept this damning secret to himself as he sulked back to the mountain.
Telling none of the loss of the Rune, he climbed the thousands of concealed steps to
the highest mountain and remembered the names and clans of each dwarf that had perished to
save the kingdom. At the roof of the world, he finally attained some sense of ease, overlooking
the long horizon of the Kingdom. Unbeknownst to Thorgrim, a shadow had followed him all the way
to the peak. When his back was turned, the shadow leapt from concealment and plunged thrice-blessed
warp blades through the Great Armor of Skaldour. Deathmaster Snikch, chief assassin of Clan Eshin
had snuck in and ended the reign of the High King. As the life left Thorgrim’s eyes, a portal between
worlds tore open and ushered even more hundreds of damnable rats onto the mountain. On that day,
Karaz-a-Karak finally fell to the rats… More videos on the End Times are on the way,
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