THE UGE ARMY OF DWARF - LES GARDIENS DES CIMES

GUARDIANS OF THE PEAKS FAMILY

Motto

“Where others freeze, we stand guard.”

The Chronicles of Allistaire the Prolific

At the dawn of time, when the dwarves still formed a single, united kingdom, there reigned a sovereign known as Allistaire the Prolific. He had earned this name because fate had blessed him with six children: four sons and two daughters.

The years passed, and each of them eventually reached the age when they could lay claim to the throne. Allistaire was a worried king. Fearing that his death would plunge the kingdom into a war of succession, he devised a stratagem.

He summoned his six heirs to a magnificent feast. When the songs fell silent and the last cups had been drained, the old king rose. His gaze slowly passed over each of his children before he spoke.

“Each of you will be given a mission. The one who serves our kingdom best shall become my successor.”

His eldest daughter, Griselda, received the most fertile lands. Her mission would be to feed the dwarven people. She departed with her vassals and founded the Graindorge Family.

His first son, Boirdin, received the vast forests and wild valleys. His duty would be to supply the kingdom with meat, leather and game. Thus was born the Hurlevent Family.

Then came the twins, Casper and Jasper. So alike that even their own mother still confused them when they wore their helmets, they were nevertheless as different as fire and stone.

The king entrusted them with the mountains rich in ore.

To Casper fell mastery of metal and the forge. He founded the Foyer Ardent Family.

To Jasper fell the art of building and shaping stone. He founded the Taille-Pierre Family.

His second daughter, Valoria, received the coasts, rivers and oceans. A great navigator, her mission would be to bring the kingdom the riches of the sea, so dear to the old sovereign. She too departed with her vassals and gave birth to the Fils du Kraken Family.

When the king finally raised his eyes toward his last child...

Silence settled over the hall. For a long time. He had distributed the fertile lands. The forests. The mountains of ore. The quarries. The seas. Nothing remained.

His youngest son was named Athus.

Allistaire approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“The realms of your brothers and sisters are surrounded by high mountains. They shall be your domain. You will guard the mountain passes and routes that protect our people. As long as you keep watch over the peaks, no enemy shall enter the lands of the dwarves.”

Athus understood immediately. He had received neither the richest nor the most fertile lands. He simply bowed. “Then... I shall stand guard.”

Thus was born the Guardians of the Peaks Family.

Years became decades. Decades became centuries. Each of the six children built a kingdom and devoted a lifetime to their people. The old king never saw his children again. Yet one returned every year. Always the same one. Always on the same date. On Allistaire's birthday, Athus crossed the snow-covered passes to share a meal with his father before returning to the mountains.

When the old sovereign passed away, the chroniclers tell that a single pair of snow-covered boots rested before the castle door. Athus had come one last time. Because before he was a king... He was a son.

Athus now ruled over the highest dwarven kingdom. From the summits, he watched the other five kingdoms prosper while guarding the only passages into dwarven territory. Winter reigned there for most of the year. The passes remained buried beneath the snow while icy winds swept relentlessly across the ridges.

Athus quickly understood that no people could survive for long on the surface in such a hostile environment. Accompanied by his vassals, he set out to explore every valley, every cliff and every mountain, recording every natural cavity they found. The years passed. Each new cave was carefully mapped. Then the miners discovered that many were separated by only a few metres of rock. Hammers struck. Pickaxes rang. Tunnels multiplied. Little by little, all these caverns were linked together until they formed a vast underground network through which the kingdom could be crossed without ever facing the storms. The mountain itself had become their fortress.

The long winters taught them another lesson as well. Foresight was the first form of wealth. Vast chambers were prepared to store grain, dried vegetables and food reserves. Immense caverns housed livestock, while underground lakes were stocked with fish to provide a permanent source of food. Among the Guardians of the Peaks, planning ahead was not a virtue. It was a condition of survival.

Among the Guardians of the Peaks, the elders like to repeat an old proverb:

“A kingdom prospers when its children grow numerous.”

Long years of peace and abundant reserves naturally encouraged their population to grow. Families expanded rapidly, bringing with them a new challenge: preparing the younger generations to survive in the most hostile realm in all the dwarven world.

Athus refused to let his children fear the mountain. From their earliest years, boys and girls were taken out of the caverns. Officially, they were going out to play. In truth... their training had already begun. Day after day, winter after winter, they learned to understand the snow, recognise the winds, read the clouds and anticipate storms. Skiing became a game. Snowboarding came naturally. But it was above all their mastery of the Hydrosnower that filled them with pride, for the discipline demanded skill, courage and a perfect knowledge of the terrain.

The years passed. The cold ceased to be an enemy. It became a companion. After generations spent in the heart of the peaks, the Guardians of the Peaks came to endure even the most extreme temperatures with ease. By contrast, scorching deserts or dense, hot and humid forests were almost unbearable to them. Every people is shaped by the land that gives it birth. The Guardians of the Peaks had been shaped by ice.

The mountain taught them yet another lesson. Where game is scarce, a hunter can rely neither on speed nor strength. Only patience is rewarded. To approach their prey unseen, they developed an art the other families had barely mastered: camouflage. Their clothing changed with the season, the rock or the snow. When motionless, they became almost impossible to distinguish from the landscape. In time, their reputation spread far beyond their mountains. Whenever the dwarven kingdoms needed scouts, an infiltration into enemy territory, or a mission behind hostile lines, one name returned again and again. The Guardians of the Peaks.

Among the Guardians of the Peaks, marriage was not merely the union of two people. It was an oath. A promise binding two lives until their final breath. The words separation and divorce did not exist in their language. They were simply foreign concepts. That absolute trust carried onto the battlefield. Men and women fought side by side. Not because they were forced to... but because no warrior protects a companion better than the one with whom they share an entire life. The Guardians of the Peaks sent couples into battle. And few could match their coordination.

Of all the traditions of the Guardians of the Peaks, none was more surprising than that of childbirth. When the time came to give birth, the expectant mother simply took a blanket and a knife. Then she left the caverns alone. She walked until she found an old fir tree. Leaning against its trunk, she gave birth to her child. She cut the umbilical cord herself, wrapped the newborn in the blanket, then returned to the family home. There, the father waited. Without saying a word, he held the child against his bare skin to share his warmth. To an outsider, the custom might seem harsh. To the Guardians of the Peaks, it represented the first lesson of an entire lifetime. The cold would always exist. So would hardship. But family would always be there to offer warmth. Thus, from their very first breath, every child learns that the Guardians of the Peaks do not learn to conquer the cold. They learn to live with it.

The Two Legacies of Athus

Two events profoundly marked the reign of Athus.

The first brought hope. The second forever shaped the soul of the Guardians of the Peaks.

During an expedition into the highest mountains, Athus's explorers discovered an immense cavern forgotten by time. At its centre rested six gigantic eggs. No dwarf had ever beheld such a wonder. The elders quickly realised that they belonged to dragons.

Without hesitation, Athus made a decision that surprised those around him. He kept only one egg for his own kingdom and gave each of the other five to his brothers and sisters. To each of them, he made the same request.

“Raise them wisely.”

No one could then imagine the consequences of that simple gesture.

The years passed. Then came a year the chroniclers would later call the Winter of Famine. Rain fell without respite. The fertile lands produced almost no harvest. Game, deprived of food, largely disappeared from the mountains and forests. Along the coasts, storms destroyed part of the Fils du Kraken fleet, drastically reducing their catches.

Very soon... famine struck all six kingdoms. Reserves dwindled. The first children began to go hungry.

Then... Athus opened the immense granaries his people had been filling for generations. Caravans left the mountains. Grain. Meat. Fish. Dried vegetables. Everything was distributed. Thanks to this decision, all six kingdoms survived the winter without further losses.

When spring returned... Athus waited. Not for riches. Not for rewards. Simply for a thank you. None came. To everyone else, such aid was only natural. After all... the reserves existed. Why not share them?

They had forgotten Allistaire's words. Family above all. Every dwarf deserves help.

That day... something broke in Athus's heart. He never turned his back on his brothers and sisters. But he understood that by trying to protect everyone, he might one day become unable to protect his own. From that moment onward, a new rule guided his people. Family first.

Always. Children continued to be raised according to the principles handed down by Allistaire. Never give up. Always give the best of yourself. Put duty before your own comfort. And above all... protect your family. This philosophy forged exceptional warriors. Disciplined. Patient. Loyal.

They gradually became the finest bodyguards among all the dwarven people. Over the centuries, a tradition naturally took hold. Only the Guardians of the Peaks were permitted to serve as the reigning king's personal guard. Their oath was simple. They would protect their sovereign until their final breath. Without hesitation. Without fear.

The Guardians of the Peaks also chose to live in complete self-sufficiency. They asked nothing of the other families. They built their cities themselves. Their tunnels, halls and dwellings stretched for kilometres, carved into the mountain and reinforced by immense concrete structures, creating buildings that were solid, durable and easy to maintain.

Behind imposing armoured doors lay the entrances to their kingdom. To the right of each door was a numeric keypad. Visitors had only one word to enter.

DWARF

Only then would the heavy doors open. For whatever trials they had endured through the centuries... Nothing is more important than family.