It is said there are dwarves in the north. High in the Jotun peaks where the Åsklanders roam. Their holds are hidden by ancient runes and sealed in their mountain strongholds. Closed off from the rest of the world, they amass wealth and craft fantastic artifacts. One of the most interesting stories I heard was of a lost hold. A group of enterprising dwarves set out from their mountain home in search of a trade route between the Jotun Mountains and Avras. The trip took many years, and when they finally returned, they could not find their home. Destined to live out their years roaming the inhospitable peaks, these dwarves in their shame, became increasingly desolate and isolationist. Seldom mixing with even their own kind. Some, it is said, tamed the giant bears of the mountains and now use them as mounts to better search for the lost hold. I came across such a character on one of my journeys to the beacons. Gorik Bearblood was his name and he communicated only with gestures. Yet his tired eyes spoke of immense pain and suffering. I could not help but pitying the fellow.