Beards: coiled. Tusks: jutting. Sneers: contemptuous. These are the Helsmiths of Hashut, twisted duardin nursing a burning hatred for the Mortal Realms, their eyes glowing like cinders even as their bodies slowly turn to stone.
Wearing rich fabrics and gilded metals lit by the lurid daemonfire that crackles across their weapons, they attempt to harness the essence of Chaos itself, all for the glory of the Bullfather.
They refer to themselves as the Zharrdron – the “folk of the fire” – and can be summarised thus: take everything virtuous about the duardin, their stolidity, willpower, their kinship with the the earth and their artisanal prowess, and pervert it all through a magma-scorched lens of Chaos.
