Unless you have a Dwaro character or are privy to lore (such as a bard or trained in history), it is best to skip this page.
Time of the Titan
For untold eons, a great Titan, four times the height of the tallest mountain, stomped the sruface of the world, destroying all in its path then reshaping the ruins to new form. In their wisdom, our ancient ancestors turned to the protection of halls beneath the mountains of the outer rim, the only place safe from this cycle of destruction and rebirth. There, they learned all the arts of the world that the younger races learned from the Dwaro: how to write, how to shape stone, how to harness magic, and so on (Dwaro songs go into excruciating detail in listing their creations and “firsts.”)
Though the underworld was a perfect home for the Dwaro, they despaired for the surface dwellers that fell in such great numbers before the feet of the Titan. Therefore, the Dwaro ancestors devised a wonderful poison that was so potent that a mere drop to the Titan would slay him. Of course, a drop to one so tall is an ocean to a Dwaro and they spent much time, wealth and magic on this task for the betterment of the surface dwellers before they had enough to slay him. The poison worked as planned and the Titan fell to create the Spine Mountains of the world. Tales vary on how it was administered and range from a party that scaled the Titan to inject it into his eardrum, to poisoning a fruit he fancied to a poisoned caltrop of some sort. ( A few tales tell of the destruction of the Rim Halls when the Titan crashed to the ground and the subsequent migration of the Dwaro to the Spine Mountains).
After the Fall of the Titan, the Dwaro shared their gifts of learning and lore with the surface dwellers so they might more readily resettle the world. Leaving the sunlit world to men and elves, the Dwaro delved great cities beneath the Spine Mountains. These were cities of wonder that surpassed the eldest ones in the Rim Mountains and whose like has never been seen since. Vast halls of open roofs held up not by pillars but by magic alone. Magic light of many colors that illuminated all. Mighty factories to provide every want. It was a place without want.
But the loremasters of Kazelthume learned of a hidden source of knowledge deep in the world and caused the Dwaro to delve for it. Deep they went, deeper than any surface dweller can imagine. To the very roots of the world they went. What they found, none living truly know. For the deep-delvers became warped. Some changed form into demons. Others retained their outward form but their minds had been bent and they served some other power whom the Dwaro call the Deceiver.
Age of the Walking Dead
With his new minions, this Deceiver drove the Dwaro first from their deep halls and then from the Seven Golden Cities. With the fall of these cities, the benevolent hand of the Dwaro on the surface lands fell away and the men and elves took to squabbling. Chaos ruled, cities fell, thousands died by the sword or starvation.
In time the Deceiver worked his deceit upon men and tricked them into raising the dead for their armies. The dead soon overthrew their would-be masters and served only themselves. Seeing all fall before the armies of the dead, the Dwaro trained a human, later calling himself King Algor in the wizard arts and with Dwaro lore and weapons, he and his people defeated the dead. The gods then sealed it so that the dead might never rise again in such numbers.
Algor lived for centuries thanks to the magic lore he learned from the Dwaro. When he retired, he left a great empire. Though more heavy handed than the rule of Kazelthude, it brought peace to the surface world and left the underworld to the Dwaro who thrived on trade with Algorand.
Cataclysm and Dark Ages
But the Algorand were ever greedy for power and sought further mastery over the magic arts. In their College of Wizards they created a spell that undid the world and destroyed them. The earthquakes they unleashed wrecked the halls of the Dwaro. Worse, they sundered the magic that held up the Dwaro caverns, lit their world, fed their people. Without this magic, the Dwaro died in vast numbers and the once brilliant cities lie crushed. The Dwaro today are but a shadow of their former self but they will rebuild once again.