Clan Hestlegartle has tenaciously maintained its hold on its swath of mountain territory while fending off continual attack by giant and humanoid enemies.
Ruler: King Ael Hoarfrost; Lord Scepter of Othglandor Mariochar “Bladebeard” Hoarfrost, High Prince Hathar Hoarfrost (LN dwarven male F15), General Anthion Silveraxe (LG dwarven male F22), The Deep Lords. Capital: Thugart's Deep (6,000); Major Cities: Othglandor (8,900), Kholtar (5,100), Firecaverns (3,900), Glitterdelve (2,600), Daunting (1,200); Harlending (1,100), Rimmator (1,050); Hammer and Anvil (1,000). Dwarven population: 40,000 (Hestlegartle), 15,000 (all other clans); Demihumans and humans: Elves (300), Halflings (2,000), Humans (1,000), Gnomes (8,000), Uldra (1,000); Humanoids: Many (especially in the Everdark). Resources: Iron, Coal, Gold, Copper, Silver, Tin, Platinum, Gems, Armor, Weapons, Mithril, Adamantite.
One of the smallest of the remaining dwarven clans, Clan Hestlegartle makes its home in the northern reaches of the Spineridge Mountains bordering the elfin Kingdom of Paladondia. The Clan has held on tenaciously to this swath of rocky territory for more than five millennia despite continuous attacks on their clan lands by the evil humanoid and giant races that live both above and below the surface. Clan Hestlegartle traces its roots to the legendary dwarven warrior Hestlegartle Bloodeye the Giant Slayer who ventured into the foreboding heights of the Upper Spineridge Mountains with a small band of followers in the times of yore. Soon after the band arrived, a tribe of frost giants who had lived in these mountains for many years beset the hardy band and many dwarven warriors fell under the heavy blades of the frost giants. However, Hestlegartle led his band onward with stoic persistence (a trait which still marks members of the clan today) until the group chanced upon the entrance to a massive ice cave which served as the main fortress of the giants. Legend says, Hestlegartle knew that his band, which had dwindled to only 12 able-bodied warriors, had no hope of besting the entire frost giant tribe. With this knowledge, the war leader called on the favor of his patron deity, Clangeddin Silverbeard, and stalked into the cave. With a finely crafted battle axe in each hand, Hestlegartle called out a challenge. His words remembered are now included as part of the basic education of all members of the Hestlegartle Clan: “I am Hestlegartle Bloodeye, Son of the Mountains and Brother to Fire, the bravest and strongest of my race, chosen by Clangeddin Silverbeard to lead my people to this new land! "I challenge the Brothers of Frost, the Sons of Ice! Send forth the bravest and strongest of your race. "Face me in single combat and decide this quarrel. If you dare!” Not flinching, not blinking, like a pillar of stone, Hestlegartle waited. Of those who witnessed the hardened dwarf's challenge that day, none doubted he would stand until the ice of the glacier melted or a foe dared to accept his bold taunt. Finally, the jarl of the frost giants strode through the gates of the fortress, alone. He did this because, despite their evil nature, the frost giants are not without honor. A fierce sight was the jarl. The blue-skinned oaf towered nearly half again as high as his warriors. Muscles bulged under his patchwork furs and a large purple vein over his left eye pulsed, ready to rip from his flesh. A helm adorned with dragon horns taken from a wyrm he had slain with his bare hands rested like a crown atop his head. Hestlegartle showed no emotion at the appearance of his adversary, and by some trick of the light filtering through the entrance to the cave, his shadow stretched longer than that of the frost giant jarl. Snow and ice fell from the ledge above and the ground trembled as the great jarl spoke, “I am Vrost, Jarl of the Clan of Ice Peak. I am the bravest, and by far, the strongest of my kind! "Today I see a dwarf and I weep. I weep for you. I weep for your family. I weep for your clan. Today they will mourn your passing. Tomorrow they shall follow you to the grave!” Then, the huge giant swung his axe and as it arced down from over his head the air whistled over it audibly. It fell toward Hestlegartle, sure to cleave him in twain, but as the wind from the blade slapped the face of the dwarf, he stepped sideways and dove, pin wheeling between the giant's legs. Landing upright, his arms stretched high over his head, behind the boulder-like foot of the great jarl, he swung his axes in return. Despite the cold, the stroke of his blades brought sweat pouring from his brow. He struck once, twice, to the giant's heal. The first tore through flesh, muscle, and tendon. The second severed corded tendon all together, sending the jarl falling to one knee. Pulling his axes free, Hestlegartle, chanting prayers in time with the giant's moans of pain, darted back to face the jarl and await his next strike. Then it came. A wide sweeping swing, the axe low to the ground carrying an oath to cut the dwarf down like a sapling under a woodsman’s axe. Yet again, the dwarf stepped aside an instant before metal bit bone, and returned with his twin axes sinking deep and sticking fast into the trunk-thick wrist of the giant, sending a wail of pain tumbling like a waterfall from his lips as icy blood gushed from his wound. As the jarl lifted his wounded arm, Hestlegartle clung to his embedded axes. The giant shook him with fury born of a blizzard, but to no avail. Like a child’s toy, the little dwarf danced through the air as the giant tried vainly to shake the warrior from his hold. As the giant lifted his bloody hand high overhead and prepared to slam the dwarf to the ground, Hestlegartle placed both feet against the wound and pushed. His axes pulled free with a sickly, sucking sound and the dwarf back flipped down onto the giant’s upturned face. Before the huge creature could respond, Hestlegartle's axes found a new home in the giant's left eye and the ridge of his nose. The giant screamed and tumbled to the ground. The dwarf again used his deeply set axes as handholds, and padded himself against the impact of the fall by leaning against the jarl's face. On the ground the dwarf began to hack mercilessly at the soft place in the giant’s skull just above the nose and after a few well placed chops dark brain matter ran down his cold, still face. Seeing their leader fall, the remaining giant's fled. The Legend of Hestlegartle tells a romantic tale of honor and single combat. However, the original oath of the frost giant jarl to cleanse the mountains of the dwarven "scourge" is the half of the legend remembered by the giants. Hestlegartle's battle brought only temporary respite from the giant menace. Within the lifetime of Hestlegartle's son, Clugard, the giants had once again become a menace, attacking small communities, prospectors and miners in remote areas of the clan lands claimed by Hestlegartle. The enmity between the races has waxed rather than waned over the past 5,000 years. The situation today is a mutual oath of extermination. King Ael Hoarfrost the Song of Steel, Son of Rel, Blood of Durg Dragonbreath, Blood of Hestlegartle the Giant Slayer, has ruled the Clan Hestlegartle from its seat of power at Thugart's Deep for the past 300 years. A wise and battle savvy lord, he has done a remarkable job of keeping the various enemies of the dwarven people at bay while simultaneously maintaining cordial relations with the elves of Paladondia and the neighboring human kingdoms of Urssia, Bartravia, Wilnöven, Carthonia and Dolan. In fact, relations with the Knights of Erus, the rulers of Dolan, are quite cordial and steeped with mutual respect. His rule while not extraordinary in comparison to some of the great leaders of yore has, at least, allowed the dwarves of Hestlegartle to live in relative peace and prosperity. However, peace and prosperity has not always been the fair of the Clan Hestlegartle. Disputes over mining rights with the Paladian have nearly erupted into full scale war on at least three occasions, and some particularly inept or foolhardy rulers have put the entire clan at risk by simultaneously waging all out war with the giants, orcs, Drow and other enemies of the people. While King Ael believes as much as the next dwarf in the desirability of ridding the kingdom of its enemies, he also understands the wisdom of biding one's time and the folly of doing anything without moderation. This, of course, is not only a good philosophy, but a necessity of a people who have dwindled in population to only around 40,000. The Deep Lords, a council made up of the heads of the gathered houses, temples and noble orders of the dwarves of Clan Hestlegartle, also support King Ael's policy of moderation. The Deep Lords serve the king as a formal advisory body, but the Council of the Deep Lords only meets at the king's request. However, the king has favorites among the council from whom he regularly seeks council. The greatest power of the Deep Lords is its traditional role as the electors of the Lord Scepter of Othglandor. This position currently held by King Ael's brother, theoretically serves as a check on the king's power, but more importantly, the Lord Scepter is the steward of the Hestlegartle Kingdom. Should King Ael become ill or incapacitated, the Lord Scepter would rule the scattered communities of the Hestlegartle Clan on behalf of the sovereign. Most of the dwarven communities of Hestlegartle Clan exist due to mining interests. These communities which are almost always ruled by a Deep Lord are usually no larger than a typical human village. Around half the clan's settlements are built at least partially above ground, the other half are communities of the Everdark. Important settlements of the Hestlegartle Clan include the three settlement's in the area of the Great Rift, a 200-mile long, deep mountain valley on the eastern side of the Upper Spineridge Mountains: Thugart's Deep, Othglandor, and Kholtar. Other important surface settlements include Northspur Keep and Kaurak Kholzil, a mining outpost and home of the infamous weapon master, Durikzal of the 50 Swings. Important settlements of the Everdark include: Daunting, Firecaverns, Glitterdelve, Hall of Echoes, Harlending, Magkstok, Rimmator, Sundasz, Tarnhall and Thuulurn. The waning population of the Hestlegartle Clan bares note, for it is an overruling concern of the people as a whole. In recent years, the population has begun to increase again after many centuries of decline. The dwarves of Hestlegartle often exhibit fatalistic personalities, glum dispositions and pessimistic outlooks on life. The clan as a rule avoids contact with the outside world, typically meeting with members of other races only for purposes of trade (something they are very interested in). All trade with outsiders is conducted from their surface communities and no foreigners are allowed within the Everdark communities or the underground quarters of surface communities without special permission of the hold lord. Uninvited guests should, at the least, expect to be searched and possibly worse. The kingdom possesses vast mineral wealth and the artisans to forge this wealth into items of superior quality which are traded at considerable profit to the dwarves. In addition to gems and precious metals, the kingdom possesses rich iron, coal, tin and lead deposits. In particular, the trade in unworked iron with the Kingdom of Urssia is especially profitable. Militarily, despite their small population, the dwarves of Hestlegartle are a force to be reckoned with. All able-bodied dwarves, male and female, receive at least rudimentary martial training during their childhoods. The most promising of these students are encouraged to enter the military as a profession. This combined with regular warfare with humanoids and giants has created a people more than adequately prepared to defend themselves. Under clan law, the clan chieftains or lords of the lesser families of the Hestlegartle have complete authority over the troops of their holds. However, each of these clan lords in turn swears loyalty to the current king, chieftain of all Hestlegartle dwarves. While the king has no authority to directly control the armies of his clan lords, he may demand service of the clan lords, who in turn bring their soldiers. In all, the Hestlegartle can muster 8,000 heavy infantry trained to fight in rough terrain both above and below the surface. The average dwarven warrior is a first-level fighter armed with an axe, hammer or long sword. However, roughly 25 percent of these warriors are more experienced (of level two or higher). In addition, the king himself commands a force of 600 ursine cavalry and a contingent of airborne hippogriff and griffon riders. Adding to these forces are various contingents of elite warriors of the dwarven temples, such as the Chosen of Clangeddin.