An Isekai Story

Tucked into the razorback heights of the Spinebreaker Mountains, Grimstone Hold is a dwarven kingdom carved from stone and sweat. Its halls stretch like arteries through the mountain’s heart, lined with glowing forge-runes and blackened soot. Hammers ring day and night, a constant rhythm that echoes off the walls like a heartbeat. The dwarves here are a stubborn, proud people—masters of steel, stone, and secret enchantments—who've turned their isolation into strength. Outsiders find little warmth in their cold halls unless they come bearing respect. Trade caravans may covet their finely-forged blades and gem-bound relics, but few see the hidden vaults or the ancestral keeps guarded by living stone. Amidst the madness of Kavrix—demon deals, arcane rifts, and summoned fools—Grimstone Hold stands firm. The mountain keeps its own counsel, and so do its children. Yet even here, the chaos claws at the gates, testing dwarven resolve with every passing age.

Grimstone Hold looms like a buried cathedral, its mountain face carved with solemn dwarven visages and iron-banded gates lit by braziers. Smokestacks spew faint red steam into the snow-thick air, while narrow windows gleam with forgefire from deep within. The approach winds past statue-lined switchbacks and ancient warning glyphs, where snow gives way to scorched stone and the quiet thrum of runes beneath the surface.