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Khazad-dûm (called the Dwarrowdelf by Men of the North) was an ancient settlement of the Dwarves. The waking place of Durin the Deathless. It's true founding date is unknown, even to Dwarven kind. Here they settled into a great unending Hall with mansions and houses of renown for their rulers. Khazad-dûmdûm was and is the sole place in Middle Earth where the famed metal truesilver -(Elvish: mithril) was mined. Stronger than steel but easier to work than silver, it never dulled or tarnished. It was highly sought by both Man and Elf though rarely was it sold but instead granted as a gift of the highest regard.
The Dwarves established a rare friendship with the local Elves of Eregion andand Celebrimbor one of the most noted First Born smiths assisted in the creation of the Hall's famed and beautiful western gate inscribed in starmoon - (Elvish:ithildin) a magical substance that reflected the glint of the stars and moon. Celebrimbor also presented King Durin III with a great Ring of Power. The Ring brought Khazad-dûm safety in the days of darkness when Eregion was overrun by the Shadow known as the Black Hand (Sauron) in his attempt to claimclaim Khazad-dûm and the mithril within. But it slowly gave those who wielded it - the Kings of the line of Durin the "dragon sickness" an unending need for physical wealth even beyond what normally might be considered Dwarven interest.
And so ever and deeper they dug seeking more and more riches into the darker and darker depths of the earth. And in 1980 TA the Dwarves of Khazad-dûmdûm encountered a feared Balrog - a creature of fire, shadow, and malice in the deepest regions of their mines. Rampaging through the Dwarven Halls it killed many including the standing King - Durin VI and earned the moniker Durin's Bane. After which Khazad-dûm after it's long and glorious history was abandoned. Now was it called Moria - the Black Chasm and following the fleeing of the Dwarves was it filled with Orc and Goblin who served and worshiped the terrible Balrog within.
After years of wandering, in 1999 TA Thráin I heir of Durin VI established Erebor- the Kingdom Under the Mountain. Here Thráin I discovered the famed Arkenstone - the Heart of the Mountain, a jewel of both size and beauty that was beyond compare, and argued by many to be the most beautiful found in Middle Earth since the Great Jewels (Simarils). The Arkenstone sparkled like "ten thousand sparks of white radiance shot with glints of the rainbow." Erebor was deserted for a time in 2210 TA when King Thorin I led the Dwarves there to resettle with their kin in the Grey Mountains in the north of Rhovanion, but following incursion by Dragon and Orc in those realms, Erebor was re-established in 2590 TA. For nearly two hundred years, Erebor was a wonder, that brought prosperity for both the Dwarves of it's Halls and to the nearby settled of Men called Dale.
Erebor: The Fall of Erebor
Since it's refounding in 2590 TA, Erebor was a kingdom that gave hint to whatwhat Khazad-dûm had been in ages past. It was unrivaled in its supply of beautiful gemstones, precious metals, and stone and of skilled artisans who worked them into fine jewelry and metal-wrought armaments that were rivaled only by the work of the Elves. They traded with the nearby city of Men - Dale, that was nestled into the nearby Lonely Mountain called for foodstuffs and other sundries brought in from wider Rhovanion and the settlement upon the Long Lake known as Esgaroth. Hewn from the mountain and built from stone, these cities were made by both the hands of Men and of Dwarves, and the Men within them learned a great deal from the Dwarven artisans that lived near and around them.
Erebor was well situated within the heart and womb of the Lonely Mountain, a solitary titan rising above the northwestern shore of Long Lake and yet it was not saved from the fearsome attack of Smaug the Terrible, a Fire-Drake of cunning and deceit that rained fire down upon Erebor, blowing open it's great doors and pouring dragon-breath upon all within. The memory of the fire, the ash, the burning flesh, and the screaming is a memory preserved in tale and song by both Man and Dwarf that can only faintly be understood by those hearing of it later. The nearby settlements of Men - Dale and Esgaroth Upon the Long Lake were both sundered by Smaug as well. As much as Man and Dwarf had prospered in life, they suffered together in the tragedy.
So the Dwarves of Erebor fell to shame and exile. Some have found passage and welcome into other Dwarrow Halls, most commonly the Iron Hills, many simply wandered the winding and wayward roads of Middle-Earth ever looking to the direction of the mountain, ever wondering and wanting for that which was lost. There are those who still yet dream of reclaiming their once-held, now-lost halls.Dwarrows within Laketown and nearby Rhovanion cannot help but ever look to the reflection of the Lonely Mountain dancing over the waters of Long Lake on a clear day.
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- Descendents of the Men of Dale (and those Men who live in the Redwater near the Iron Hills) are known to use the more ancient terms Dwarrow for a Dwarf and for a female a Dwarrowdam or simply Dams. Dwarrows or DwarrowkinDwarrowkin describe the Dwarven people as a collective.
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The Dwarves of Erebor hold similar respect by often referring still to Laketown by it's old name - Esgaroth it's stony predecessor, as an unspoken idea that whenwhen Erebor the Kingdom Under the Mountain is resettled, once again will the Dwarves help the Men to rebuild their kingdom to the joy of both peoples.
- Dwarves of Erebor are likely keen to remember that Girion, the Lord of DaleDale died in honor attempting to defeat Smaug the Terrible and save both peoples while Thrór, the King Under the Mountain escaped with his life. As such, some might feel a debt of kind to the people of formerly of Dale who live now in the Laketown or those of wider Rhovanion.
How this is expressed by different Dwarves varies - some work to serve as mercenaries imagining that they saving are saving the Men of Rhovanion from their troubles, some are known to have joined the Sons of Girion or smaller militias in Rhovanion villages to work for honor rather than primarily coin. Others work as artisans who might even take apprentices amongst Men to ensure that arts like stonework, gemcraft, or metalworking are not lost to the Men of the North. Others promise to be fair in their trades and dealings with Men to honor that sacrifice. In their own way, the Dwarves of Erebor remember that in their time of greatest need, it was a Man who stood defiant despite the frailty of his race (for Men were not made by Eru from the same firm stuff as Mahal made the Dwarves.) Girion is thus seen as the example by which all other Men are measured.
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-Dwarrows of Erebor are a dwindling and finite number. As Dwarves do not mother or father children to be raised outside of proper Dwarf Halls, those who did not join their kin in the Iron Hills or the Blue Mountains will not marry. They will not suffer more of their kind to wander the roads or live in the cities of Men, and those those Dwarves those Dwarves of Erebor out in the world are all well-aged (over 150 years as of 1919 TA).
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- Dwarves of Erebor who live among Men are those most likely to be simply found wearing whatever fashion of Men is common where they live. They 'll general prefer leather and woolen generally will prefer leather and woollen tunics, trousers, and vests or longcoats.
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Like all Dwarves, those of Erebor like to decorate their clothing, weapons, and armor with geometric and angular patterns. Others will decorate things with stylized runes of the Cirth script, with the words in Old Dalish as Khuzdul is not for the eyes of Men. Others, particularly hunters, might decorate with patterns reminiscent of raven's feathers, a fond remembrance of the loyal Ravens who served as the messengers and scouts of the King Under the Mountain in days of old.
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Background: You once hailed from Erebor, the shining jewel of Middle-Earth now lost to Smaug. You were born in the Dwarrow halls beneath the Lonely Mountain and escaped from the fury of dragonfire with what remained of your kin from the fury of dragonfire. You are born of dark brown or black hair and either greenish or black hued eyed and are of a fair-skinned complexion. Like the rest of your kin, you are not taller than five feet. You are no younger than 150. As a refugee who has chosen not to fully rejoin your kin and settle in the Iron Hills you would have no dam-wife nor children. For whatever reason, you have chosen to make your way in the world of Men working your craft among them most likely in a traditional craft of your people - working with metal or stone in some capacity. Or perhaps you have followed another trade as you found your place among Men. You remember Erebor and likely remember its demise with sadness, anger, or some blend of both. You now only dream of the days when a descendant of Durin, the Kings of your people can reclaim your proper home. Until such a time, you find yourself in Laketown.
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Background: You once hailed from Erebor, the shining jewel of Middle-Earth now lost to Smaug. You were born in the Dwarrow halls beneath the Lonely Mountain and escaped from the fury of dragonfire with what remained of your kin from the fury of dragonfire. You are born of dark brown or black hair and either greenish or black hued eyed and are of a fair-skinned complexion. Like the rest of your kin, you are not taller than five feet. You are no younger than 150. As a refugee who has chosen not to fully rejoin your kin and settle in the Iron Hills you would have no dam-wife nor children. For whatever reason, you have chosen to make your way in the world of Men as a warrior for pay or honor and your preferred weapon of choice is more than likely a mattock, a battleaxe, or a short broadsword with a shield. You remember Erebor and likely remember its demise with sadness, anger, or some blend of both. You now only dream of the days when a descendant of Durin, the Kings of your people can reclaim your proper home. Until such a time, you find yourself in Laketown.
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Background: You once hailed from Erebor, the shining jewel of Middle-Earth now lost to Smaug. You were born in the Dwarrow halls beneath the Lonely Mountain and escaped from the fury of dragonfire with what remained of your kin from the fury of dragonfire. You are born of dark brown or black hair and either greenish or black hued eyed and are of a fair-skinned complexion. Like the rest of your kin, you are not taller than five feet. You are no younger than 150. As a refugee who has chosen not to fully rejoin your kin and settle in the Iron Hills you would have no dam-wife nor children. For whatever reason, you have chosen to make your way in the world of Men in scholarly work and in such are a keeper of lore, driven to document those still yet alive of your people, the stories they recall, the feats and dreams and memories of those still yet carrying the blood of Erebor. You now only dream of the days when a descendant of Durin, the Kings of your people can reclaim your proper home. Until such a time, you find yourself in Laketown.
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