It took but a year for the goblin hordes to sweep through the Silverpeak Mountains, evicting the dwarven lords from their strongholds and throwing down the Republic. The Emperor and his personal Iron Guards stood fast, sacrificing themselves so that the survivors could flee to the lowlands of the Howling Plains. Those that could not flee were slaughtered in the thousands.
New homes were built and the seven surviving lords built a new republic. In their shame, they burned all traces of their former lives and forbade anyone from speaking of it. That was 500 years ago, and now not a single dwarf lives who could tell you anything about the old republic: The Republic, the seven strongholds, the many cities, villages, and forts of the nation…has passed into myth.
And now today, with not but the occasional raid by goblin wolf-riders to worry over, society has grown decadent. The mines are closing. The people go hungry. The lords are weak, petty, and foolish. Brothers are turning against brothers. Soon perhaps the dwarves will do to themselves what the goblins could not do and
cause their own extinction...but...you aren’t having any of that.
You’re a member of an elite band of dwarves with specialized skills and abilities put together by a mysterious benefactor for one purpose; to retake the lost strongholds. You’ve got an eviction notice for the goblins and you’re going to serve it in person. If the goblins won’t go peacefully, so much the better, because you’ve got something for that too...