The Drazkharov Rebellion that wracked the Holy Sigmarite Empire had caused numerous other races and nations to become embroiled in the conflict. Some malign powers had seized the opportunity to reap whatever gain they could from the misery and chaos of a mighty Empire laid low by civil strife. However others had sympathized with the plight of the people of the Empire and leant their support.
The Dwarves of Karak Haraz had remained strangely neutral for the first three years of the war. In spite of numerous petitions from the Imperial Court of Sigmarheim, citing ancient oaths of alliance sworn between the great nations, the Dwarves did not act. Perhaps the Dawi were distracted by conflict in their own lands? Was the grim spectre of the Ghoul Wars of old a memory that few of that race wished to relive?
Whatever the delay had been, the enigmatic Dwarves eventually answered the call to war. King Morgrim dispatched a mighty throng of warriors from Karak Haraz, well supported by formidable Dawi artillery. They made the long descent through the winding pass that connected the Dwarf holds of the Durom Range to the Easting Road. But the journey was slow and Holwingen was not idle in keeping a close watch on its borders. Count Ivan, The Beast himself, had called the army of the Krähefort beneath the Drazkharov banners and marched into the Durom foothills to lie in wait for the Dwarf host.
The ambush that Ivan launched upon Morgrim’s force at the Battle of Eynsford Hill was a brief yet savage attack. Terrible spectral hunters bore down upon the Dwarf artillery before they could set to the task of pummeling the undead army. Without the Dwarf guns to hamper his advance, Ivan himself was able to lead the devastating charge on the Dwarves in the bottleneck of the pass. With little room to manoeuver the Dwarves could only stand firm in the face of the onslaught.
Seeing the battle lost as their comrades fell to fang and claw of the hated enemy, the Dwarf rearguard reluctantly withdrew back into the mountains. Those warriors who returned to Karak Haraz told wild tales of a terrible fiend who ripped his way through the battle lines, his deranged laughter echoing across the hills above the din of battle as he flung aside proud Dawi warriors with predatory abandon.
Karak Haraz now finds itself cut off from the outside world, Ivan’s armies choking the mountain passes with heaving undead hordes. It seemed that the Holy Sigmarite Empire would not be able to count upon the support of the Dwarves after all.