Gilbur was ironically dubbed "the brave" after an inglorious public incident with his wife. He made the mistake of trying to stand up to her, only to have her unleash her wrath upon him in front of everyone. That's how he became the target of the most embarrassing verbal shaming recorded in the dwarven kingdom's history. After this, he needed the thinnest chance to clear up his name and had desperately been looking for it. The moment Gilbur heard about Archibrum's expedition, he went to the family armoury and took a hammer he found buried under a bunch of other weapons. Little did he know that the hammer he found was none other than the long-lost Hammer of Duty. With the runes for "Hammer" and "Bravery" engraved on it, this hammer boosted the confidence of any dwarf who wielded it and turned him into the most daring fighter. Now, while he is wielding...

Our good Lord Archibrum heard that engineers are good fighters, so he obviously had to have one in his party. And so he sent his servants to search for an engineer. The first one they found who was willing to enlist in the warband was Algerburn Mindaloof, the latest engineer to have joined the court. They made a mistake, though: he was the wrong kind of engineer. Instead of being and expert crafter (and user) of firearms and war machines, he was what one would call a "project manager". But not a single member of the warband understood the difference, so they did not give it a second thought when Algerburn accepted to join the expedition. Neither money nor honour are things that would make Algerburn even think to join a group of entitled dwarves chasing a defunct notion of glory... However, while he was studying at the University of Moriemburg, he heard so many wonderful things about Mordheim's architecture that he couldn't say no the chance of visiting it! Algerburn i...

We all know already how Archibrum is - to quote his own father - "a spoiled little brat", how his quest shook the court top to bottom, and how he put together the most fashionable warband of all time. The trip to Mordheim was hard on the young lord. Accustomed to a courtesan lifestyle under the mountain, Archibrum was not used to the hard sun that hit the party during the first week of the trip. His skin turned red on the second day, and it has only gotten worse since. With the golden gun that his father gave him on his 125th birthday and with the clan's sword that he stole from his father (but never actually learned how to use), he felt invincible. However, the truth is that a sword in his hand is as dangerous to foes as it is to friends... Archibrum's beard is quite short for a dwarf his age. And, frankly, it seems to be shorter now than it was before they left. Even though no one dares say anything out loud, everybody in the band thinks that the reason behind t...

Everyone in the expedition to Mordheim trusts Bilifor. How couldn't they? He wears a helmet! And he tells all those war stories! Sadly for the group, there has been a little misunderstanding. The group sees Bilifor as being a tiny bit arrogant because he tells his stories in third person... But they don't realise this is simply because he is talking about his cousin Bilifor! When he realised his mistake, it was already too late, so he decided to just go with it. Now his sleep is troubled: he knows the group's respect for Bilifor can go down the rat-infested drain on the next skirmish...

Durrum does not want or need to be here. He is the biggest collateral damage of this idiotic trip for glory commanded by a dwarf with daddy issues! But duty calls. When he accepted to become Archibrum's tutor, Durrum already knew the young lord was a brat with no interest in war. Now his duties as tutor force him to be by the reckless lord's side as an adviser in matters of war. Durrum is the eldest of the party and at least he is quite good with the crossbow: the many years of hunting with different lords on his trips with Archibrum to other kingdoms have gained him a reputation as a huntsdwarf. As the eldest of the expedition, the other dwarves look up to him and expect him to have the answers to all their doubts and questions. He usually is the gentlest of courtesans, but so many days on the road are turning him into a bitter and grumpy dwarf... And the questions... Ah, the stupid...

Dothurum is a noble from a minor house who joined the entourage of the dwarf lord Archibrum because his wife made him. Actually, word in the citadel is that when his wife forced him to enter the caravan of the lord, the lord was utterly impressed: the fierce way she physically dominated her man was the most striking demonstration of power the lord had ever seen. So he proposed she came on the trip instead. Her answer was even more impressive as a show of power. The swearing  and blasphemous words coming out of her mouth were baffling. What a magical way of cursing she had! The Fancyhats clan descends from a long line of hat makers. While everyone in his clan has dedicated their lives to the family business, Dothurum has only been dedicated to wearing the hats and spending the family money. Tired of being married to the laughing stock of the family, his wife sent him on the expedition, but not before packing some of their best hats for him (not the best of the best, though – beca...

Allow me to introduce you to the first members of my dwarf warband. Neither the band nor the chaps have a name yet, but I think we can all agree that they arrived to the doors of Mordheim in style. They are part of the entourage of a young dwarf lord known in the Dwarven kingdom for being, quoting his own father, “a spoiled little brat”. With no real fighting experience, he started the trip to the city of Mordheim to prove his worth to his “daddy”.   These guys joined him on the trip simply because, you know, what would the dwarven maidens think of them if such a brat was going to find glory while they stayed in the comfort of their palaces? The young noble's decision shook the court top to bottom; and several other nobles, better known for their extravagant tastes than for their fighting skills, joined his quest for honour. As court fashion - rather than axemanship - was better known in their group, they took their best clothes, always matching the colours of their champion, ...

  Welcome, everyone, to A Dwarf's Forge. Simply put, that's it: just a(nother) dwarven forge. It is not a special forge or the forge of a master runesmith. Just a humble dwarf trying to make something beautiful and perfect his craft. What you can expect: Dwarfs; Miniatures that are not dwarfs (but not too many... at least for now); Warhammer Fantasy world-related stuff; My work on my armies, warbands or some other miniature painting projects, accompanied by their background war tales. What you should not expect: A reliable posting schedule. So without further ado, I invite you to enter the forge! Constructive criticism is very much welcome. © Image shamelessly snatched from Issue 041 of White Dwarf.