The first thing any dwarf notices the moment they step into the Dark Terra is... the cold. The incredible, massive cold. One minute you're stepping from the flames and fire of the Deep Terra, and now it’s cold and it's dark.
Here, it's quiet. There's not the hustle and bustle of dwarf cities, and of dwarf business. There's no rowdy dwarf brawls, or out of tune dwarf booze songs. Instead the subtle notes of the rhythmic chanting of dwarfs as they speak aloud the ancient runes, and in the distance the deep throaty echoes of dwarf dirges can be heard.
Few dwarfs literally survive the change from hot to cold, most shattering like glass. This is the first trial, of the stone. The second thing you notice is the darkness. Even to dwarfs there is darkness. There are no runes to be seen; nothing to guide the little people of the stone through the stone.
No light is allowed here. Here, you walk in the dark. As you walk you will find dwarfs meditating, chanting their low notes and trying to carve runes into the stone with their bare hands. They are not allowed tools in this place. And here you will find the Death Guard, guarding the tombs of the honored dead that came before.
Every cave, every cavern, every tunnel, is natural. There is no carving, no tool marks, no buildings. Everything is a natural formation. The place is absolutely crushing with pressure, and is the absolute center of gravity and geological energy. Due to this, the place leaves and ever present chill along your spine. Here the dwarfs that live here bond with the stone, and the nature of this place expands their other non-rune senses.
Here, within the crushing weight, the absolute cold, facing trials of stone, fire, ice, patience, and the ever grinding wheel of time, within the cold dark heart of the world, the epitome of dwarf-dom is forged.
