Nimtodir is the last refuge of the descendants of the True Children of Stone, a people whose story is not often told in full, and never without pause. Their history stretches back into an age of fire and shadow, shaped by long struggle and guided—at least at first—by the strength of their first Mountain King, Daruum Stonebreaker, whose name is still spoken with care.

They were not always a wandering people. In the elder days, the Children of Stone dwelt in Tillaris, under the rule of the High Dwarf and Prophet Bhandarr Longstone. It was Bhandarr who claimed to hear the voice of the Great Lion Aleph, warning him that Darkness was rising and that their first home, Kighlodir, could not be saved. He called his people to leave, promising a land prepared for them beyond the reach of the coming night.

Daruum did not believe that stone should yield so easily. He challenged Bhandarr’s decree, and the people were divided—brother from brother, clan from clan. Bhandarr and those who followed him departed Tillaris, while Daruum remained behind, swearing to hold the mountain against whatever horrors might come. Under his command, Kighlodir was unmade and remade as Kelboldir, a fortress carved and forged over nearly two centuries, sealed against the world and its fears.

When the gates of Kelboldir were finally opened, the world beyond had changed beyond recognition. Aleph’s grace had withdrawn, or so it seemed. Darkness had spread unchecked across Tillaris, twisting land and creature alike. The Dark Beasts roamed freely, and even the free peoples had learned the habits of cruelty and bloodshed.

What followed was not defeat by claw or fang, but by something quieter and more dangerous. Corruption found its way into the halls of Kelboldir. Daruum was betrayed by his own, cast down and sold into slavery to the Boartide—a people who had once fought beside the Dwarves in honor and need. But two centuries of silence, sealed stone, and a changing world had hardened the Boartide into something else entirely. When they later sought aid from the mountain and found only unbroken rock and wordless silence, they remembered.

They remembered well enough to learn.

In time, the Boartide rivaled Dwarven craft itself, twisting stolen knowledge into roaring machines and choking forges, black smoke rolling across their lands as survival replaced nobility. Old friendships were buried beneath iron and resentment.

Daruum did return. How, few agree upon. That he did is beyond dispute. Yet his return did not bring salvation. It brought fire.

Kelboldir fell in a single terrible day. The corruption within had run too deep, the Dark Beasts too numerous. To save what little remained of his people, Daruum himself set the mountain ablaze. The throne, the fallen clans, the twisted kin he could not redeem—all were consumed. Kelboldir the Great was no more.

By the unseen guidance of Aleph, Daruum and the remnants of the True Children of Stone were driven from Tillaris forever. They passed through strange realms and silent forests, through the Gateworld and beyond, until at last they came to Sor’res, a land not promised, but given nonetheless.

There, in what is now called Nimtodir, the descendants of the Children of Stone endure. They keep to the deep places, hidden from the wider world, carrying memory like a burden and a warning.

For mountains may fall, kingdoms may burn, and even stone may break—but some wounds, once carved, are never truly sealed.