Urban Dwarves/The Travelers:
Symbol: The coin, or a merchant's balance.
More charismatic, chameleon, demonstrating an almost halfling-like adaptation to cultures they tend to be more accepting as well. Less tempermental, they however often flaunt whatever status they might have. The greed and hunger for power of the younger races has rubbed off on them more than others after the decades of contact. They also have greater insight into the bargaining weaknesses of dwarves and their trading partners, as they chisel out their niche acting as a go-between for the more reclusive of the dwarven race and those they seek trade with. On the other hand there are some amongst their ranks that are in truth exiled dwarves. Violators of certain laws are turned out into the world, never to return to the lands of their birth. The greatest punishment delivered in dwarven culture is the stripping of one's name. To a dwarf, one's name is not a right, it is a privilege and one must prove worthy of it. In dwarven culture, those most sinful are forgotten, their works destroyed, toil undone, they are removed from the annals of history and cast out onto the surface nameless and homeless. There is not a dwarf that breathes that believes death would be less merciful. The Travelers appreciate the keen ability to haggle and recognise this even in other races. They honour thriftiness and are sorely known for their ability to hold tight their purse strings under the best of pitches. They often use their longevity to their advantage when trading with shorter-lived races as their memory of a particular trading partner will last from the man's birth to his death. This stock of dwarves is the only one amongst their race with a proclivity for green eyes. Their hair is fairer and softer than the wiry mane of other dwarves, bleached and loosened by the sun and the wind of their above-ground culture. They are responsible for the maintenance of trade routes on dwarven lands and those amongst them who focus more on craft than trade tend to outsource themselves as labour for the projects of other races needing dwarven expertise.
Hill Dwarves/The Gatekeepers:
Symbol: Dwarven War Axe
Those dwarves who live closest to the surface in their mountain kingdoms or even upon the face of the mountain itself. They are the first line of defence against outside forces and as a result they are always on guard. These are the dwarves which make up most of the stereotypes: quick to anger, hungry for drink and inherently suspicious they have kept the dwarven race free of intrusion for countless centuries. These are the masters of the dwarven war axe, those who live near enough to the surface that they chose axe over hammer; to live above rather than below. These are the warriors best prepared to defend the dwarven races against those who live outside. They know well the ways of their enemies and have adapted those they've found useful into their own culture. Amongst their kind alone one finds dwarves who would prefer to go into battle upon a horse rather than upon their own two feet. Also unlike most dwarves they have a fair knowledge of forestry and above-ground agriculture. Lumber and produce enter the mountains by the sweat of their labours that would elsewise cost them dearly in trade. Light but bristly is their hair and swarthy is their skin for the sun burns fierce up in the high ranges. Those amongst their kind are often valued for their abilities at scouting and farseeing. Those dwarves of blue eyes often seem to be found from amongst the numbers of the Gatekeepers. Viewing the world from their mountain fortresses, their vision grows unrestricted by tunnels and chasms.
Mountain Dwarves/The People:
Symbol: The Hammer
These are your average citizens. They represent the standard, stereotypical dwarven stock. Thick in both head and frame, dark hair coupled with darker eyes and hirsute to boot. This is the core of the dwarven race, the heart of their kingdom. In many ways, it is the purpose of their entire culture, to preserve this way of life. Here in the core of the mountain these dwarves are given a chance to live unfettered by the rise of sun and moon, untouched by outsiders, a machine that would know no rust. Here the heart of industry thrived, not the origin, for that lay within the extraction of the ore in the lower pits, but the refining of these raw materials into the goods that would provide for their people. Here it is that the irrigation for the undermountain is controlled and directed as vast stretches of land served to provide fare unrestricted by the absence of sunlight. Fungi, molds and subterranean fauna were planted, harvested and domesticated for the use of the dwarven race long ago adapted to their life below ground. Much of these vast underground cities were home to the craftsman who laboured to give shape to the metals their people had coaxed from the earth itself. Here it was also that the famed distilleries of the dwarves were found. Several clans tout bloodlines of brewmasters that go back to the sundering of the world and guard the recipes past down those many centuries with their lives. Spirits are often used by dwarven priests in place of water to be sanctified by Vulcan for use in rites and worship.
Deep Dwarves/The Seekers:
Symbol: The Flame
Hardcore. For a dwarf, that really means something. Here it was that generations of dwarves spent untold decades carving and eating away at the rock, ever hungry for another vein, another find, another flash of the colour. Those who lived beneath the mountain knew no rain, no seasons, it was an alien climate unlike anything known to most of the races of this world. The few dwarves who dwelled in the true deep, knew that the undermountain was only the beginning. This was home only to the most masochistic of dwarves for here it was that true toil was found. Smelting occurred here, the extraction of ore, truly most of the hard work was done before the craftsman in the middle kingdom received the metals they worked with. Pallor lent itself often to those who lived out their lives in the deep and the rare occasion of an albino was known to occur only past a certain depth in the earth, the correlation is yet unknown. These dwarves are often mad, "Touched by the Flame" they are compelled to stare into fire unrelentingly despite the fact that it eventually causes them to lose all sight. They are left to dwell in the deep, released they often wander down a tunnel never to return. The heat here is unwavering, oppressive and overpowering it would leave a human fainting at the thought of lifting a pick. Instead, to the dwarves it served only to remind them of their origins, for here more than anywhere were they closest to Vulcan's Forge. For that very reason many of the devout amongst the dwarven race made their homes in the deep, prompting pilgrimage of the higher-born into these lower realms. More true clerics are born in the depths than in any other realm in the dwarven kingdoms. Here it was that Vulcan's fire never died, untouched by wind or rain it burned in the soul of the mountain, in the soul of His people and was rekindled in every forge, in the ring of every hammer...that unrelenting heartbeat of the dwarven race.