The Story of the Dwarves
So who are the heroes of our tale? They are members of a race that has, for all its inventiveness and industry, been plagued by a never-ending series of cultural ascensions and civilization ending downfalls.
Every Age of Dwarven society saw a new means of progress. Intricate technical marvels would give way to the subtler arts of geomancy, only to be replaced again by the rigorous study of the natural world.
Dwarven artifice was matched only by Dwarven hubris. And so every Age saw a new cycle of achievement followed by an even greater fall into ruination.
As such, Dwarven ruins are buried like the bones of long dead beasts in the strata of the Deep, one upon the other through the geological record of time. The Deep is a treasure trove of lost Dwarven architecture, relics, and lore. While they vary in application, their underlying power is unquestionable.
And the Doom That Follows
For all that hubris has been at the root of their downfall, the Dwarves are not alone in the agency of their ruin. There is another, inkly race wholly opposed to them. In the Deep, they are never far from the light of Dwarven camps. They watch with baleful intent, hungering, it seems, for Dwarven sorrow.
For countless ages, the Gloam have tirelessly pursued and hounded the Dwarves, defiling their greatest works and waiting for the inevitable downfall of their civilization.
Why they pursue the Dwarves, ever upward and unrelenting, is not known. What is known is that the Gloam come in a variety of shapes and sizes, armed with fell powers and abilities.
Gloamlings are the least bothersome, armed only with tooth and claw. It’s never the individual Gloamling that spells a Dwarf’s doom, however. The threat lies in their great numbers, which can easily overwhelm even the stoutest Dwarven war band.
Voesk are hulking brutes with deceptive cunning. Seeing several in the same area is a worrisome sight, as they will tear through lesser Gloam to be the first to rend Dwarven flesh.
Sappers are the most exotic of the Gloam yet encountered, and perhaps the most deadly. They eat the light from the surrounding air and use it to become living bombs. Imagine the plight of the poor Dwarven miner, thinking he sees the welcoming light of his kin, only to come face-to-face with a primed Gloam Sapper
Because of this, all Dwarves know—never linger in the lightless tunnels and darkened grottos of the Deep. For in those places the shadows grow long and quickly congeal into hated foes.