Interlude

A few days after the orcs rebuke from the Mines of Lowlo, the travelers found themselves involved in the Republican escape from the oncoming winter. The snow had already reached their waists, making the enterprise that much hard for the little peoples. If not for the help from Raibeart, Ideal and Boris, perhaps the Capital City of the Northern Steadfast Republic would have been buried deep with all of their inhabitants far through the season's stay.

No one knew quite why the white orcs united, nor how some dissented and turned back to their previous loyalties. The fear of winter was not as great as the fear of the black idol, held by a daring leader and now gone from sight. 

Jevalet took off on the same night they passed in the mines, taking the artefact with her and never saying goodbye. After the little miners were freed and safe, they tendered to their wounded and gathered their dead, mourning them briefly before leaving the place. The mines were to be closed and forgotten for a long time. Its gates were broken and would most likely become the shelter for those who fled the winter in the wilderness, be them dire or not. A few believed it would become an ecosystem of its own during the season, and fewer already thought of how long it would take to drive them off - if they ever returned to the Capital's lands.

To Feffa Highleaf, Raibeart returned the body of Faye in silent respect and guilt. The noble councilwoman replied with nothing but tears, blaming the destiny and the ill regard of the gods towards her family and the people. To the dwarf, she heralded the Gigglebread's Point, a silvered blade heirloom of three hundred years. It would not do to carry around more than the necessary, and many of the Capital's riches would remain locked in the vaults of the palaces and manors for many years to come.

It was then that the travelers commenced their mutual departure and followed the little people's, their paths conjoined one last time. The winter was at their backs, like hawks falling closer to their preys under the light of the fairest day.

Chapter Seven: A Dance in the Dark (II)

Hidden beneath an illusion that resembled the surface of the cave, Ideal watched silently as Jevalet showed up close the white-orc leader and pushed her from her high ground with a roaring spell. He saw Raibeart moving, then, sniping through the hordes and coming closer to the duelling orchenkind.

"Gnome! Where are you heading?"

Halting by the sound of his contractor's voice, Boris looked back at where Ideal was supposed to be.

"W-well... Closer, I guess!", as usual the Underground specialist seemed uncertain.

"We should stay here, it's too dangerous. And it's not our fight", said the tiefling. He wanted to see the battle de-escalate so as to get closer to the tall orc. There was something about her that made him uneasy, as he could almost see glimpses of smoke traversing her figure as she moved. In the back of his head, he had the sense his patron was watching, eager to understand what it all meant.

"Look, sir! They're clashing!", pointed an excited Boris.

Jevalet had reached for the orcish leader and plunged into a heated combat. They both wielded magic as deadly weapons, producing thunderous noises and eye-hurting lights out of thin air. The blast peaked from their fingers as stings from a killer wasp, which they bore and faced in the manner of all orcs, no matter their clan or their color. The scars that followed were but a memory of surviving.

Ideal was too caught up in the spectacle to notice that Boris had been hit by a stranded javelin and now sank heavily to the ground.

As the battle around them grew stale, the duel intensified. It came to a point where they clawed and grappled, devolving the fight to a baser sort of violence. Eventually they fell on the hole, and then only the casual lightning bolt could be seen from the outside.

Raibeart had already reached the edges of the pit, hesitant to shoot. The combatants moved too fast, fought too close. He then shot one, two arrows, both which missed the target: Jevalet roared in confusion, but the dwarf seemed cold and distant. Ideal realized that he might not have missed at all.

It was when the tiefling finally noticed Boris laying on a pool of blood that he decided to move away from his neutral standpoint. Dismissing the illusion, he dodged a blow from a nearby orc and run for his guide. But then he felt a vibration that heralded the impact, and he braced for it.

From the giant hole, Jevalet rose, bloodied and marred, holding high in her right red hand a black figure that swarmed with vapid shadows and seemed to move through time: an ebony dancer enchanted and enchanting, a statue of solid subtleness and deceit that echoed the silent choreography of the unforgivable side of darkness.

Once in the air, a wave of shadows imploded from the statue and spread to the far ends of the cave. All those who were hit, orcs and little peoples alike, fell to the ground from the shock. The red orc stood here, as if time had stopped for the briefest moment. And then she collapsed, rolling down to the feet of the ruins' entrance. 

Ideal lifted his head and saw that the remaining orcs were starting to flee. Close to him, he heard Boris gasp and breath with the faintest sign of life. Relieved, the tiefling realized he had lost all contact with the patron.

"That's good", he thought. He could delay the hellion that much longer.

Chapter Six: A Dance in the Dark (I)

"Well", asked Boris to no one specifically. "This is unexpected."

The travelers had descended through an ever-going ramp and reached a wide hall that seemed to be the entry point to the mines below. Dozens of rail lines lay side by side, though only a handful of carts were visible. At one point, a Republican lifeless body betrayed the little people's fate.

"Mine's full", said Raibeart.

"Even better", replied Jevalet. "They won't mind us, hopefully."

She approached one of the carts and looked casually at its working contraption. Republicans excelled in such practical devices and, once magic-wielders were available, would fill them with the best manner of improving the utility of any given item in their hands.

And so was the cart. "I think I know how to ride this", Boris said, raising an uncertain hand. "I really do. That's why I'm here, I suppose, to guide you under the ground?"

Ideal assented with a confident smile. "At last some dignity in you, gnome. We must go. Go deep down." He grew restless with each step they took further, interpreting as a sign that they must be on the right path. Deep down the mines, where else would he find whatever he was looking for?

The others seemed to confirm this assumption, no words required. Pair by pair, they climbed in the carts and locked them onto each other. As Boris activated the ignition handle, it sparked with the smallest runes carved on its surface and made the convoy move forward. Slowly at first, the travelers gathered some speed and in a few moments were riding up and down in the relentless, lightning fast railings of the Steadfast Republic.

The trip was quick - too quick for some - and not free of challenges. As the lanes criss-crossed and the carts switched rails, a few white orcs tried to halt them and bust them off the high speed course, but as soon as they got rid of them, they felt the carts subdue and the wind blow meeker on their ears.

"Is it here?", asked Boris. The carts cringed slowly, pulling themselves amid hundreds of other carts gathered together in parallel rails that loomed away into the darkness. 

Jevalet jumped off and raised a finger to her lips. Following her lead, the travelers walked closed to a wall and went along to flickering lights that shone at the end of the tunnel. A few voices and grunts reached them. They recognized the complains of the miners, countless peoples forced into labor by unruly masters.

"Slavery!", Raibeart growled, the first time he spoke since they crossed the inner gates.

"Forward", pushed Jevalet, a strange gleam to her eyes. "It's here."

And as if unveiled by a sudden flash of light, they saw that the tunnels ended abruptly right into a cave which bore ruins that made them all shiver in anticipation.

Columns so great they reached the darkness upon their heads lay ingrained in the rocky walls, holding phantom structures only hinted by the fragments and bones of old days. Torches, carried or poised on sticks in the ground, misguided the perception and made the shadows of the passers-by giants in the figure of the forgotten building.

Ideal saw a vague resemblance to the architecture of Tiefenland, but could not recall any specific reference. Boris ignored entirely the nature of that civilization, though he could put an effort on doing so if only he could distract himself from the moving backs of the white orcs that roamed the place. They moved with plan and purpose, in such a rare display of organization that disturbed the travelers. The miners suffered the most from such enterprise, bearing the whippings on their backs as they strove to find whatever was required of them.

"There's probably some strong leader commanding these clans. Either that, or a threat so dangerous that they can only hope for survival", considered Jevalet, as she waited for an opening. The orcs moved up and down in the cave like bees in a hive concocting some master plan not of their own. Most of all, they seemed to focus on a giant pit at the feet of an entrance marbled and tall that forewarned the ruins' magnificence.

However, as they stepped in the outskirts of the visible light marking the floor, they heard a booming growl and stopped. The voiced challenge reverberated against rocky surfaces and streamed all the way into the cave, immediately interrupting the orcs in their affairs and leading their hands to prepare the oncoming conflict.

In the blink of an eye, masses of white orcs under different banners rushed into the place and thrashed and fought like rabid dogs. They all looked ravaged and weary, either from combat or journey, grunting at each other for reasons unknown, though it could only be assumed it was but a chapter in the annals of orcish politics.

Jevalet wanted to lose no time. Detaching from the group without warning, she lunged into the chaos and vanished from sight behind the dusty clouds of war. Boris looked around in dizziness only to notice Ideal was nowhere in sight; Raibeart, battleborn, had already stretched his bow searching for a likely target. The clash among clans was innocuous: as long as he pierced a dozen white orcs he would feel fine about himself. Also, he owed that to Faye, at least that much.

But then he heard a ravenous battlecry coming from the insides of the giant hole.

Climbing up the access ladder, the tallest white orc he had ever seen made her way to the highest point of advantage in the area. Bearing a bloodied scepter and eyes so sharp they could cut through rock and stone, she scrutinized the newcomers and growled aggressively, to which many hailed and conferred.

Raibeart realized that if a power must be strong enough to harness the loyalty of orcish clans, then it lied in that creature that stood atop that half broken pillar from times long gone.

Chapter Five: Jevalet

Ideal and Boris decided to join Raibeart and the half-orc in order to improve their overall chance of survival at the orc-ridden mines. The dwarf desired revenge, the gnome wanted to end that troublesome assignment, and the tiefling pursued a mysterious purpose.

Yet, a fundamental matter remained unclear.

"What's ur name again?", asked Raibeart.

The half-orc seemed intrigued. "Jevalet. From Naharadim West."

None of them had never heard of it, except for Boris. "You mean, after the Parigian Desert and such?"

"Yes. So it seems", said Jevalet. She was small on words, though disturbingly eloquent.

"And why are you here, exactly?", this time Ideal proposed the question. "I understand you are offspring of orc and human?

"Sir, she might get offended!", murmured the gnome.

"Indeed. Red orc, to be precise. I came here to research. I belong to an order of academics back at the Imperial Universities."

"Old Imperial Universities, don't you think? I believe Emperor Shaleb VII fell years ago", argued the little scholar, emboldening upon hearing the words "research" and "academic".

"Perhaps I like to stick to traditions. But let's hurry, small talk might kill us anytime", said Jevalet, putting an end to the conversation.

The tunnels went back to the great hall, and by then they felt a shift in the atmosphere.

"There's something off", said Jevalet. "Did you manage to get the other symbols from the password?"

Raibeart shuffled through Faye's belongings and found the piece of paper from the well chamber. He handed it to the half-orc and prepared his bow, should any enemy appear.

"I know another. We must get the third key and the final sequence.", she said.

Raibeart grunted. "Chances are we'll find someone at the kitchens. A corridor there led somuwhere."

Soon they went for the kitchen, going even further down the corridor and finding a huge pantry along with a band of white orcs who suddenly stopped a heated discussion upon the arrival of the travelers.

The struggle was brief. Arrows were shot and javelins detained, and at one of the leaders' pockets they found what would be the full password, only if half of the cloth were not entirely stained by blood.

"Well", said Boris, "May the odds be in our favor, huh?"

However, as they left the kitchen and reached for the inner gate, they noticed a chill coming from outside. The main gate was torn open and a few bodies lay scattered near the entrance, covered by a thin layer of snow. 

Troubled by the break-in of the mines and by the complete absence of orcs, the travelers had no thought of lingering much longer. There was something eerie in the air that made them uncomfortable and urgent. Besides, the cold loomed swiftly into the hall.

Jevalet promptly led them to the inner gate and faced the triple-lock. Each of them had a rolling cylinder with different symbols written on the surface, which she put in a tentative order. They could only hope for the correct combination, though a closer look at the cloth obtained from the kitchen's orc eventually provided with the order for the first two keys.

But at the first attempt, a lightning bolt sparkled right into the spellcaster's chest and threw her away from the gates.

"Darn it, one shot in three and she misses it!", complained Raibeart. Soon after, he tried to unlock it with a different key. They had so many chances before drawing attention from any enemy that might be wandering around, but at last the dwarf successfully unlocked the gate.

Behind him, Ideal was helping Jevalet up. She did not seem to be too harmed from the bolt, except for an ugly lash on her torso.

"Let's move", she said.

And down they went, scampering into the darkness.

Chapter Four: The Emptiness of It All

"I think I hear voices", said Boris.

Finally, his long trip was coming to an end. Once hired by the Blackstone, he had to guide the tiefling all the way to wherever he wanted to go. They crossed the safest of the paths in the Underground for a while, but due to the shifting mind of his client, he had to take many shortcuts, which led to a few wrong turns and more perils than he wanted to face. He was a gnome born and raised in libraries, of course! Why should the guild put him as guide he could not tell, but Master Estebanelos surely disliked him long since his admission.

"Is it close now?", asked Ideal. A weary tiefling with a troubled past, he bore on his skin the scars from the many battles and bloodshed at Tiefenland. Though once a war medic, now he pursued the intents of an obscure patron which lent him otherworldly resources.

"I think so, yes", replied the gnome. "If we hadn't changed our schedule so many times, though..."

"It is not for yourself to judge, gnome. Though I prize your service as much as anyone would, I do have another's agenda to follow,  and not my own."

Boris was unhappy overall, but Ideal was a decent client. 

"I, I didn't mean to complain, s-sir..."

"Never mind, let's proceed. It seems to be very close now."

As Boris led to a tunnel of yellow fungi-flowers and bright worms, and at the end the found a wall of rocks and sand.

"This is it", said the gnomish guide. "Here it is. My job is over now and I will..."

"Shh. It's only over when I say it is. Be quiet", ordered Ideal. He put his ear close to the rock and tried to listen.

The clash of iron and copper. Panting, grunting, growling. Silence.

"What are you...", Boris tried to say, but Ideal was already spellcasting a fierce blow to the fragile barrier.

On the other side, a rugged, dirty, blood-stained dwarf carrying a bunch of corpses stared at them, mildly surprised. By his side, a red half-orc like the travelers had never seen. Ideal could smell the magic in her much alike one could recognize the nuances of a subtle spice.

He knew it in his heart she was like him.

Raibeart spit on the floor.

"No time for new-arrivals. Are ye troubles?", he asked.

Ideal thought for a while. "No, Master Dwarf. We come in peace, though we know not where we are."

"Lowlo Mines, in the Republic", said the half-orc. Ideal felt her gaze on him and knew she was having the same thoughts he had just had.

"We don't mean to intrude, my distinguished travelers, we're just passing by...", tried Boris, worried to death by the looks on those people's faces. It felt just as if they were retreating from a terrible war.

And then Ideal saw her.

Approaching the cooling body of who once was Lordani, the fellow tiefling recognized her semblance, much like his own, except for the shorter horns. They met years ago at many a battlefield, knowing each other without exchanging words but always in opposite sides. They saved each other lives more than once, and then they never met again.

Until now. Ideal wondered how the gods enjoyed such turnabouts, how they tendered those moments and cherished the ironies. He felt anger rising within his guts, for the emptiness of it all.

"Her... what was her name?", he asked.

Raibeart was too tired to stand back from the tiefling as he approached. Besides, part of him saw some sort of emotional reliance in the familiar face, in the skin colors, in the sound of his voice.

"Lordani."

Ideal lowered his head and cleaned his spectacles. At last he knew her name.

However, amidst the solemn recognition, a vile voice tainted his mind.

"Follow the--m... They will lea--d you where I nee--d..."

The tiefling looked at the dwarf and at the half-orc, sighing. He knew what to do.

Chapter Three: Buried Hearts

Only a few hours had passed since the three unlikely friends took the road to the mines.

Lordani was still worried about the frozen trail they found on the way back, when the woods were yet thick on both sides of the lane. The trees had been pushed and broken by something a lot bigger than them. Where the thing had touched, a thin layer of ice was left like a winter's veil.

They had not discussed this, but rather tried their best to focus on the fact that whatever crossed the road was heading to the opposite direction. Raibeart recalled the elementals from the old stories of his people and their wars against giants, but he was never one to listen to such tales idly. He would always get impatient and do some hunting and trading.

Faye had spoken nothing since the night before. Lordani was concerned about this sudden change of mood and for a few moments she suspected the dwarf had done something ill to her. But that proved unlikely, since at some point Faye helped him prepare wolf meat for lunch.

"Faye", called the paladin.

The little burglar seemed not to have noticed.

"What happened yesterday? At the house?"

Faye tried not to show her emotions, but Lordani knew how to read faces. "Did you see anything... anything that was not meant to be there?"

The girl quit pretending and at last looked at Lordani. She replied with the tiniest yes in the world.

Lordani just assented. "Raibeart?"

The dwarf was concentrated on getting the food done, but listened all the same. "Dead bodies, milady demon. One o'them hangin' by the neck, alright. Couldn't take the blow, the lass. Don't blame'er, tho." Raibeart spoke very matter-of-factly, never ceasing to smooth and slice the meat.

Faye looked away for a few moments. Lordani understood the trauma, but could not force a conversation on her. The little noble should leave the shell by herself.

The weather was quite pleasant after yesterday's storm and the sky the bluest they had ever seen. After the meal, they pressed faster to the mines. By the time the shadow of things grew half their size from noon to dusk, they had arrived at the gates of Lowlo.

The rocky gates were very long and very narrow, even if four little persons could walk comfortably side by side through them. Before it, meadows grassed and underlined the mesa where the gates were built. Raibeart noticed the doors were not carelessly carved and approved of the quality, though his people's cousins could have done a lot better, he thought.

The gates were slightly opened. Faye was already peeking inside when Lordani heard noises coming from the meadows. Soon they realized what was producing them: two  warring tribes of white orcs were announcing a conflict with battle cries. The likelihood of such an event in that very place at that very moment baffled the tiefling, but she hurried the others to enter and leave the struggle to the concerned parties. At least within the mines they would be safe.



"Now what?", asked the burglar.

The gates had closed soon after they passed, leaving them in sudden darkness. Little by little, the small flame of torches hung on the walls spread beyond them, revealing they were all alone.

The mines were empty.

"Where is everybody, Faye?", asked Lordani. She hoped Faye would have at least some insight about her kind.

"I don't know!", Faye replied. She was starting to walk towards the center of the room. It was a hall neatly carved into the stone, in simple designs and favoring utility over beauty. At the center, a path of different tiles led to an inner main gate, and beside it three other passages. There were signs of both little people and orcs, but no blood on the floor. Here and there, pieces and objects were scattered, some of which were clearly tools from the mining business.

"Is this... greypowder?", asked Lordani, mostly to herself. She knelt to inspect a silvery dust left in between the tiles.

Raibeart saw greypowder once, when his father was trading with the humanfolks of down the Trifelgos River. "I guess so. They need'em for explosives, blowin' rocks and such", said the dwarf.

Lordani confirmed her suspicions and nodded. She knew greypowder was extensively used in Tiefenland to open new paths through the underground.

Faye was getting impatient. "Should we just stay here, standing like open targets? Hello-o, orcs!"

As if on cue, something hard bumped into the stone gates from the outside. "They probably want to get in. Let's move", said Lordani.

The main hall was dry and cold, though not as much as at the outdoors, nor it was cold in the same manner. It was underground cold, a bit different, a bit drier, a bit emptier. It already felt like a tomb in there.

Faye decided she did not like mines. She rushed the others, and, after analysing briefly the four passages, asked them for advice.

"Well, I don't know", replied Lordani. The complete absence of the miners was an obvious challenge, she tought. But better have a second opinion.

"I guess our master dwarf may present himself for duty."

Raibeart was not even listening to them. He tried to trace living beings from the footsteps, but could not focus properly. "Should we rescue the little brats?"

Faye frowned on the choice of words but nodded, along with Lordani. "Yes, that would be best, I presume", said the girl. "Or else, who could know the way out? My people like to lock doors with tricks and charades, never with keys. I don't know how could someone open these doors without a Republican miner."

Raibeart agreed, with a wry smile. He gave one final glance at the passages and made his mind. "Let's take that way."

The passage was the first from the left, one who turned sharply and went on and on. It was dark, but, as they walked, a few candles appeared on the walls, leading to a smaller chamber with a single well in the middle. There were signs of struggle on the ground, now made of dirt.

"Well, here is the water supply. And a fight", said Lordani. From the corner of the room Faye was already lifting a fine piece of paper.

"A-ha! Once more the nobility saves the peasants! Here, this seems to be some sort of code..."

"Let me check", requested the tiefling. "Faye, it's blurred. The ink was too fresh and something wiped two of the symbols!"

"Aw, man. Ok, at least we have one. Maybe we should know what to do with these in the first place."

The trio left the well chamber and proceeded to the second passage from left to right. It was quite bright with candles, and soon they found themselves in what looked like a dungeon kitchen with two white orcs asleep in it.

They drew their weapons and noticed the orcs were not only asleep but stuffed with food - hopefully - and snoring much loudly at it. There were traces of pies and chicken bones, crumbs of cheese and a few vegetables scattered amid broken chairs and turned tables.

Raibeart, forever upset by the very existence of orchenkind, was already coming closer to the clueless creatures with an arrow ready when Lordani intervened. "No, master dwarf. They're asleep. It's not right."

"Right? N' what's right, milady? Unh? Is it right what this lot did to my people?', questioned Raibeart, flustered. His red beard almost seemed to be in flames somehow.

Lordani toned down. "It's not that, my friend. I'm not defending them. I'm solely defending that is not right to face them when they're most vulnerable."

"Don't preach me abut vulnerable. And I ain't no friend of yours, if you mind."

The tiefling was starting to feel the situation rising up beyond proportions when Faye spoke, gingerly. "Well, what if we tie them up? We need information, anyway."

Raibeart seemed to weight the proposition for a few seconds, then stayed silent. It was his consent. Lordani felt the relief cool down the issue and quickly went for the ropes in her bag.

As they wrapped one of the orcs, Raibeart approached the other and, without noticing, kicked out a big copper pan that was laying on the kitchen floor, scraping over the stone and screaming metallic noises all over.

The orcs woke up instantly, still groggy from the feast they presumably had. Their white hairy bellies were much proeminent and their thick skin was a mess of gravy and wine.

Faster than thunder, Raibeart drew an arrow and shot it point-black, instantly killing one of the Northern creatures. Meanwhile, Lordani overpowered the other, who, tied as he was, had actually rolled to the floor and was having trouble standing up.

"Where are the little miners?", asked Raibeart, in Orcish.

"Fuck you, shitbeard!" The orc's voice was coarse and spiteful.

"Damn it, vermin! Tell us what we want to know or else..."

"I'd rather eat my shit, daughter-fucker!"

The more Raibeart tried to put some sense into him, the less likely it was for the orc to cooperate. Infuriated and frustrated, the dwarf stood up and kicked the restrained creature with his boot in a fit of anger. However, he did not measure his strength properly and a loud snap was heard coming from the orc's neck.

Lordani was aghast. "Raibeart, how could you...?"

Raibeart seemed as astonished as the tiefling. "I... I, milady, I didn't mean to..."

Faye just put her hand on her face and sighed. What a disaster that educational trip to the mines was turning out to be.



After deciding not to go further through the corridor of the kitchen, they ignored the inner gate and entered the darkest path leading to many levels below. They were descending through an old mining rail path for so long it seemed like forever.

The trio was not talking much. The atmosphere was dank with something oily, and an oppressive silence coming from the tunnels made any sort of conversation much less likely. By the rusty look of the rails, the ramp probably lead to abandoned sections of the mines. They had already established that they should find a way to discover what were the two blurred symbols written on the piece of paper they found at the well chamber. But they did not yet know which door would it possibly open, if any at all.

"We could have discovered what it meant if the orc hadn't died", said Faye, in a faint voice. The stillness of the place was overwhelming and made even a whisper echo greatly beyond.

"Murdered. If he hadn't been murdered", corrected Lordani. She was still very disappointed in Raibeart for his carelessness.

"It was n' accident", it was all he said. Lordani just inhaled deeply.

The ramps seemed infinite. It was almost one hour of descent, and, after a number of closed entrances and collapsed secondary shafts, they finally reached a ground level. At some point, the rail ramp became a blueish dirt and the tunnel looked like the insides of a giant worm.

"Not the best feeling", said Faye, imagining the situation. Not that she ever saw a giant worm in her lifetime.

The tunnel went straightforward until it led to two opposite sections. But when they reached somewhere in the middle, a sudden red shadow jumped out into the rugged walls and something hot blew steam and dust over the left path. Sounds of struggle winded up on them, breaking at once the disturbing silence of the abandoned rail line. Raspy voices, commands, grunts. And a single cry above all, clean and proud, spelling strange words.

Carefully, the trio approached step by step the left cave and the vision of the undisturbed mines rapidly changed into that of a raging battle.

The cave was wide enough to contain two giants, side by side. In the middle stood a single half-orc, of deep red skin and taller than the others, wearing reddish clothes unfamiliar to them. She whispered and yelled, distributing pain all around her. In her hand, a darkwood scepter fired waves of lightning.

Her condition was no good. The blood dripped from several wounds, and she was surrounded by seven white orcs. One of them was much like her in stature and yet a pure orc in features. Another eight lied dead on the floor, either burned or scarred or blackened by both flame and thunder.

The red half-orc saw the new-arrived party and rejoiced.

Drawing their weapons, the trio could do nothing but rescue that compelling and outnumbered half-orc magic-wielder.

Some of the orcs noticed them and readily advanced to contain the new threat. The strongest among them, the one who attended by the name of Uther, glanced at the party with disgust and contempt. He was the one who matched his adversary's height; his skin was whiter than that of the most Northern orcs, and he seemed far smarter. And more dangerous.

By command, he quickly detached a few warriors to engage the three outsiders. One of the minions drew his javelin and sent it flying, sticking it deep in Raibeart's left leg.

The battle had restarted already in disadvantage for the newcomers. Raibeart let a hissing growl escape his lips and bared his bow, unleashing an arrow that went deep into the attacker's throat.

Another orc saw the damage made to his partner and howled in grief. Staring right into the eyes of the dwarf, he drew his greataxe and went for the killing.

Three others left the combat against the red half-orc and ran to face the trio. Lordani threw one of her javelins and Faye moved swiftly to face the oncoming menace.

One by one, however, the orc wave bled and fell. One by one they came and perished by the hands of tiefling, dwarf and smallkind. Lordani reaped with her halberd and Faye struck with a rapier so lethal it found all the weak spots in the orcish body. The blood on the ground was the enemy's, and his would be the defeat.

Yet, Uther had not standed idly against the red half-orc. In a successful attempt, he managed to grapple and choke her until she fainted. He threw her to the ground and watched the outcome of the pursuit.

When he saw that his guard was failing and that the newcomers had landed their strikes with godlike luck, Uther was filled with a cold anger. He sought in his pocket for a hidden object and a translucid shield instantly hovered over his head, barely visible, except for a few glitches that would make its electric lines shimmer.

He ordered the remaining three minions to stand in line under the shield and waited.

Seeing an opportunity, and wishing to know the extension of that supernatural protection, Lordani grabbed the javelin in Raibeart's thigh and pulled it out, with a gasp from the dwarf. No doubt, she was still angry at the stunt pulled in the kitchen, even if it happened by accident.

She aimed the weapon with precision and threw it at Uther. It clashed against the electric shield and rebounded to the roof, splitering to pieces.

"What do you want, strangers?", asked Uther, in Orcish.

"What do you want?", returned Raibeart, spitting saliva everywhere.

Uther seemed to consider the question. "We wish to leave. We've already dominated this place. You're already doomed."

"We don't care. You vermin will die here!"

Uther paid the furious taunt no attention. He spoke a few commands and the orc formation moved forward, positioning axes in a clear offensive stance. Uther dragged the red half-orc by her feet.

Raibeart drew his rapier and dashed, and so did Lordani. Their eyes saw only the enemy. Behind the enemy lines, the corpse of someone who fought outnumbered, bravely, and yet defeated by a bunch of cowards. She deserved justice, and they would deliver. They needed to.

Their decision had been made the moment they saw relief in the woman's eyes. It was like a contract, signed and sealed, that bounded them to her. And else, if they let those orcs pass, many others would chase them by their warning. Who could guarantee they would survive an orcish swarm on their heels?

Their decision had been made.

But before tiefling or dwarf could clash blades against the orcish guard, they saw swift young Faye already there. She was quick and witty, and had managed to arrive first. Swinging her tiny rapier, the girl cut open both legs of the female orc by Uther's right side. She growled in pain and staggered, her wounds bleeding profusely.

Faye felt the rush of adrenaline flow, her self-confidence soaring high in the sky. She was strong! Beyond the spoiled brat many believed she was, beyond the daughter her mother wanted, beyond all that... she was strong in her own terms! The feeling flooded from heart to mind as she felt the rapture of imminent victory.

Yet, imminence is not certainty. Sometimes, there may be tides in play that even the gods themselves cannot overturn. Above all deities, the Wheel of Fortune spins for every things good and every things evil, for mortals and immortals alike.

The Wheel of Fortune spins beyond avoidance.

The white orc still wielded the axe. With exceeding prowess and overcoming the piercing pain in the legs, she raised the blade and set it free right through the burglar's tiny body. Fury was unleashed into bone and muscle, ripping apart the victim and making her fly.

Faye Highleaf was already lifeless when she hit the walls of the cave with a soft noise.

Lordani and Raibeart could barely hear Uther congratulating his underling on her accomplishment. The tiefling slashed her with a powerful blow and the Drabembur perforated another, with such a vicious fury that the opponents could not do much more than curse and wail.

But Uther was yet to bleed, and his heart, a wasteland to compassion.

Unsheathing his sword, he kicked aside another's corpse and used Lordani's emotional outburst to his favor. He reached for a blind spot and sent his blade deep within, so deep and with such skill that it came across her back. It bared whole inches of steel, like teeth out of a prey.

On Lordani's face, tears were already flowing freely. They drowned her vision into a darkness she never expected to reach so soon.

She thought of Faye. She thought of her mother. And she cried a last tear when she remembered her father's identity would remain a mystery forever.

Raibeart could not believe what his eyes were seeing. It was not possible. Not another massacre. Not another pack of damned white orcs to butcher those around him.

It could not be.

Uther saw the despair in the dwarf's eyes and grinned as if noticing the harshness of Raibeart's fate. Living was not for everyone.

Whispering a final order, he commanded the remaining grunt to wield the axe and chop away the life of the last of the Drabembur.

And also him, fell.

All was darkness.



Raibeart opened his eyes and saw a red face in front of him.

"Awake?", asked a husky voice.

He tried to focus and saw the red half-orc. "You live!?"

"Yes, I do. Choked me out of myself. Uther", she said. The half-orc seemed smart and articulated. She was hurt, though not as badly as before. Some of her wounds were already closing.

"You a healer?"

"Not quite. But I mended some of you", she said. "You lucky."

Raibeart felt the flow of the last happenings cross his mind and could do nothing but to feel a mountain's worth of grief over his shoulders. The pain, the guilt. What else could he have done?

Would he always be the last one standing?

"We should move. We need to reach the deeper mines", said the half-orc.

Raibeart knew she was right. They could be there no longer. And yet, her strong resemblance to his sworn enemies made it very difficult for him to trust her even the smallest bit. He searched around for his friends and bent to put together what was left of Faye. So light, the little one! So young...

And then he went for Lordani. She was heavy, much like her resolve in life. He had decided to take them with him, to give them a proper burial. To give them to the earth. He would not let them rot in that wicked mines. Damned may them be!

The half-orc called him. He brought the former trio's belongings and his former friends' bodies. They weighted him down, but he did not mind.

It was nothing compared to the vengeance that weighted deep within his heart.

Chapter Two: The Shelter

The winds chimed loudly when the day rose. Lordani had just locked her bag when Faye hurried them to go. She did not disagree: there was something in the cold air that made her vaguely concerned.

Raibeart was busy flaying the wolves when the tiefling called, but was even quicker to put away his belongings and join the others. They were all shivering. The road seemed half buried under the heavy snow, its trail barely noticeable after that long night. The dwarf took a closer look at the path they should follow and proceeded with sure feet. The others went right behind, tied together with pieces of rope to ensure that no one would wander away from one another in the mist that started to appear.

The march was long and hard for young Faye, used to the comfort of her family's titles. Yet, something inside her rekindled the desire for adventure, as if a little fire was warming her within in spite of all the gruesome killings from the day before. She discovered in herself swift hits and sharp senses, not only enough to break into the Mayor's bedroom, but to survive a pack of wolves!

Lordani seemed to read into her thoughts. "Looking forward for more challenges?"

Faye blushed. "What? No. I'm gonna puke if you keep reminding me", lied the little woman.

"Oh, excuse me, Miss Fluffybutt. What is this attitude? The blood didn't seem to have bothered you yesterday."

"It did, it really did. I can't stop smelling rust."

"It'll pass. Or you'll get used to it, eventually." Lordani was almost condescending.

"I hope not", replied Faye. "I had enough for a lifetime."

The tiefling then thought of her past, of her mother. Of her band of brothers. Of their unsung tragedy. She shook her head and tried to keep the bad thoughts away from her mind. "I hope not too", she said. After that, silence fell, and so did the snow on the white laden earth.

"Guddamit, what's this? I hate bifurcations!"

The impatience in Raibeart was heartfelt. They walked for hours and covered twenty miles, and now the night was falling again and the fear of wolves or worst things grew in them. 

He gave a closer frown to the place where the paths diverged: to the northwest the road cut through a huge rock and went ever down the earth; to east, it broke into pebbles and proceeded beyond sparse woods.

Soon Faye discovered a hint in a wooden sign obscured in the mist thick in the air. It pointed to the east-sided road and enlisted a few names that she recognized as farms and states. They felt so tired after the remembrance of good food and shelter somewhere that they were quick to agree to go there, even if Faye reminded all that those places were probably abandoned after the plague that befell the region years ago. 

The weather was growing heavier as they went, chilling the bones and silencing their voices. As the road bent and turned, they saw themselves walled by firs and oaks. Closer to the edge, they saw a wooden cart, broken and half-buried under dirt and snow. A horse skeleton poked his skull over the soil with intriguing dark holes for eyes, and the trio decided to move faster. The cold was starting to get inside their heads more than they needed to.

A few moments later, they came across a side-road going up some sort of hill. Raibeart went ahead as to check for suspicious tracks but found nothing, except that a few orcs had made their movement further on the road and that the path to the hill was as clean as a baby's butt.

With a grunt, the Drabembur led them up and up. They crossed what seemed to be the entrance to the state and a few minutes later they found what seemed to be a little people's mansion.

Lordani was the first to feel a bit disappointed. "I won't fit in there, folks."

"Maybe you should check the barn?", said Faye, slightly contemptuous. She was ready to plunge into that abandoned place as if it was just sitting there waiting for her with a warm fireplace and a few cocktails ready for action.

The state was clearly abandoned. It was built on the top of a hill, and it stood like a crown, a clearing surrounded by descending woods. The sky was grey and darkening, so they decided to make the best of the situation and protect themselves from the oncoming storm. Lordani found some roof in the stables, about one hundred fifty feet from the house. Luckily, sometimes little people were cheeky enough to use horses instead of ponies on their errands.

Inside the mansion, Faye and Raibeart found creaking doors and dusty floors. The place looked as if it had been abandoned in a rush. There was a study with empty shelves and a fireplace with burned books and documents. In the ashes, Faye found what seemed to be a burned picture of a couple. The husband was blackened by the fire, by the wife... She knew her. She was her friend not that many years ago. What was her name again? Faye could not remember. Vaguely, she reminisced of the girl's departure, her leaving of the Capital to somewhere else. Maybe she moved in here? Maybe she married really young. Faye could not remember clearly. She kept it to herself and followed Raibeart in the exploring of the place.

After a few moments they had already checked every room in the ground floor: the kitchen, almost untouched by the rushed moving away by the previous owners; the bathroom, which was basically a hole in the stony floor; and the dinner hall. It was wide and exquisite, and probably much dear in its golden age. The chandeliers gave the tone of the balls that may have happened there and a taste of the Republic's aristocrats. In the center, a huge wooden table, however, was the piece of furniture that held all the attention of Raibeart and Faye. Made of an ironwood so fine and sturdy it seemed made of bedrock.

Raibeart was puzzled. "What's this?"

"I don't know. Some sort of ironwood? It's quite popular with whoever has the coin in the Republic, but I don't know anything about the tree it comes from."

The two then went for the upper floor. Raibeart walked down the corridor to discover the bedroom of what seemed to be a couple. The bed was overlooked by a dossel and the curtains were still hanging.

Raibeart moved his hand closer to the dark blue drapes and opened it... to find a little woman corpse in her perpetual slumber.

At the same time, a scream echoed from up the corridor. Raibeart run and found Faye, shocked and in disarray facing one of the rooms. He put her aside and looked into the empty space.

A little man was hanging from the ceiling. His back faced the door, his head falling in an unnatural manner over his shoulders.

Beside him, an open wardrobe. A single wedding gown, of pearled colors and a distinct look.

Raibeart did not know what that meant, but saw the horror in Faye's eyes. She was probably awestruck by the discovery of the dead man, that was for sure. Maybe she never saw one.

Faye was out of herself. She was trembling from the impact, afraid of recalling any memories. She had never before witnessed a suicide, even if one that had already happened. She shut her eyes and left for the living room, sitting in a chair and waiting for the sleep to take her away.

And then she woke up, in the kitchen. Raibeart had prepared a fire in the oven and was already laid, sideways facing the warmth. Faye could hear the storm breaching the wooden boards of the house, as if the wind was tramping over and over the mansion out of congealed anger. The young little noble felt that the worst had passed, however, and tried not to think too hard about the hanged man on the floor above.

That night was very long and very white. The mansion shackled and rumbled horribly, but in the end the three companions saw the light of the morning after. The snow had invaded parts of the mansion and they had some difficulty walking over the powdered ice, but at last Lordani appeared to help them moving outside.

The day was clear and blue. Far away, Raibeart noticed that the white orc tribes were signalling messages through smoke and found out that there was a war happening between distinct clans. That ought to be good for them after all, so the less attention they would draw.

After a reinforced breakfast, the trio departed from that estate, never to return. The mystery of the mansion was never solved. The tale of the dead wife, the hanged man and the wedding dress is still untold to this day.

Chapter One: To The Mines

Raibeart held his right hand high over his forehead to see where he had just arrived.

The walls of the Confederation were long enough to match the longest river he had ever seen, back in Tamberlim. He could not see the point of building such a massive line of stones around a land so huge, but again, he was only a dwarf of simple choices.

Stepping down from the hill, he soon discovered a route that led straight to one of the wall’s many gates. It twirled and swiveled lightly around the rifts, plundering straight to the meadows that preceded the entrance to small people country.

And there he went, just to find the huge iron gates rusted by the wind and utterly unguarded. A mount of dry leaves were trapped along the metal hinges, hinting of the time that had passed after its abandonment.

As he reached for the walls, he saw that they were cracked in many points, and that the moss proliferated freely in between the tiles. “Damn peaceful bastards” thought the dwarf. “Either peaceful or buried, I bet.”

And so he entered into the Confederation for the first time in his life.

Not far from there, Lordani followed a clear path that led to another gate, this one wide open and actually free of iron bars. A few marks on the floor led her to believe that it was still used by some people, but nothing else. She felt her armor weighting heavily upon her shoulders, and even the repetitive flap of her battered cape was driving her mad.

Over the last few years she had offered a pilgrimage of altruism to the Lady Serene, distributing goodness and care to communities far in the hinterlands and to all those along the way who needed it. She became surprisingly used to being somewhat revered by the common peoples.

She wished so hard to hear voices other than her own, but since the Zealot Superior had sent her that message relieving her temporarily of her duties, she decided that she would go down to the Confederation to escape from the growing waves of winter and get some shelter, at least for the season.

Touching her pointy horns with her fingers without noticing, she realized that she might not be well received in civilized territory. She knew tieflings were not well regarded and could draw unwanted contempt. However, that would not keep her from reaching her destination, wherever that might be.

Holding the cane of her halberd like a staff, she crossed the gates and felt a chilling touch on her red skin like a ghostly breath. That probably was not a good sign, though she tried to waive that away, uncertain. And then she thought of the Zealot Superior and of her words about the extraordinary gathering of the High Council of the Lady Serene, of how it would convene and of its consequences to her order. What kind of urgent matters were going to be decided she did not know, though she held deep in her heart somehow that things were set in motion in the world that could not be stopped.

On that night, she was ready to settle in a place to rest when she thought she saw flickering lights over a few rocks. Coming closer, she saw a battle.

A redheaded dwarf held a knife in his hand, bloodied to the beard, trying to stop a coming blade with his own and a toothed jaw with the other hand. A few of the assailants were already scattered on the ground, pierced by many arrows, but two still remained and were about to take the last out of the defender with pale brutality.

Why were white orcs roaming so far from their Northern lairs?

Without even flinching, Lordani put her resolve together along with her halberd and dashed into the conflict, beheading one of the attackers and allowing the dwarf to grasp his breath and use the effect of the unexpected arrival on his enemy to plant his blade right into the eye of the remaining orc.

Raibeart looked at the lady warrior with skeptical eyes.

“And you are?”

“Still breathing, thank you” said Lordani, a bit hurt by the apparent ungratefulness of the dwarf.

He laughed. “I wos abut to take them down, milady demon! Ha! But I owe you all rite. Name yor price.”

This time Lordani laughed, relieved. “Come with me, master dwarf! Let’s find some solace in the civilization for the winter.”

“Nah, too fancy, too silly. But food, all rite. Food is good.”

“Food is good, right so”, agreed Lordani, noticing the other was a person of few words and big action. And so they set camp and waited the sun to rise, not minding sleeping in a bed of dead bodies.

Meanwhile, Faye Highleaf had just made the biggest mistake of her life.

“Go Faye, go into the Mayor’s bedroom, will you? Yes, and while you’re at it, go get his wife’s jewels, ok? Oh, and don’t mind the FREAKIN’ HYSTERICAL DOG SLEEPING ON THE BED” she thought, grimly. Behind her, six Republican guards were at her heels, wielding spears and demanding her to halt.

A few moments ago, in the middle of the Mayor’s birthday party (“Yes, I’m that stupid”, Faye kept thinking), Faye Highleaf decided that her life had reached the peak of boredom and went for the big adventure: to break into the Mayor’s bedroom. She had not thought how it would be done, but only that it had to. She wanted to feel alive, to feel the thrill of the thievery! Not that she needed it. Her family was more than rich, hailing from a long lineage of noble merchants and even having a very seat in the Small Senate of the Northern Steadfast Republic, the small country of the smallest people in the Confederation: the Small Men.

All the worse for her. If she were caught she would have to handle a very nervous matriarch, who had the coincidence of also being her very mother.

Without further speculation, she trod faster than she could handle with her tiny feet and, after a sharp turn to the left, she clashed hopelessly against a passer-by.

A huge passer-by.

Lordani felt a tingling at her chain mail and when she looked down, there it was a small person who had just fell on the ground, many jewels scrambled all around her. Faye could only catch a glimpse of the towering tiefling before being swiftly cuffed by the chasing guards.

“You two!” said the chief guard. “You’re accomplices. You must come with us as well!”

He had a polite yet authoritative tone. Lordani and Raibeart thought better to comply, since they did not seek trouble and thought best not to antagonize the people who might be of help in the coming winter.

At the precinct, the sorry bunch awaited in a side bench in the backyard of the place, since Lordani could not even fit under the roof of the Republican Guard building. Hours and hours have they spent there, and little by little they listened the story of a very stubborn and sullen little young woman trying to make sense of her foolishness. Raibeart listened much appalled by the easy life of nobility, concluding that those people would not survive three hours in the wild. Lordani listened more than she talked, gladly overflowed by the richness of information transmitted by Faye, much of it without her even noticing.

Soon it was already dawn, and an old lady wearing many furs entered the precinct with a scandalous look on her big eyes.

“Oh, Faye! Why you do this to me? To your family?”

Feffa Highleaf was theatrical to the point of satire. Faye looked at her and rolled her eyes, tired of her drama. She was always like that, even over tiniest mishaps.

“Oh, mother! Stop it! I would do it again if I could!” said Faye, doubting her own words but trying to hold on to a last bit of dignity.

Feffa sighed heavily. “I wish it had not come to this, my daughter. Come, let’s speak in private.”

Waving at the chief guard, she dragged Faye aside and talked to her for quite a while. Lordani could not do much more than sit politely at the bench, waiting for the whole ordeal to be over. She started to feel the tiredness of her voyage and needed to feel the comfort of a decent bed and a welcoming roof over her head.

Raibeart would just grunt and shuffle, disgusting every bit of civilization that was there. He already missed the unkempt mess of the wilderness, the silence, the smells of the land.

After a while, Feffa came over and noticed them for the first time.

“Oooh, so you are the friends of my darling! How very pleased am I, oh dears! I am absolutely mesmerized by your fashion choices, young lady! What an elegant pair of horns, if I might say!” Feffa touched the hand of a very surprised Lordani and shook it vigorously, looking at her horns with a true sense of wonder on her face.

“And you, my dear, what a glamorous red beard! Well, you could have a shower once in a while, couldn’t you? Hohoho! Here, take this comb of mine! Your shaggy facial hair deserves better care, doesn’t it?”

Raibeart was shocked. How in the world would that absurdly empty-headed over-confident half-person woman had the guts to say ANYTHING about his beard he could not even start to grasp, but in absolute confusion he just took the comb and kept looking at it in complete disbelief.

Lordani smiled a bit, actually starting to few nervous over the possible reaction of her partner, and decided to change the course of the conversation. “So, is everything settled, then, milady?”

“Oh, yes! Everything so. You just need to go along with my darling to the Lowlo Mines so she can learn how it feels to be a hard worker once in a lifetime” said Feffa, very matter-of-factly.

Faye spit on the floor. “I’ll run away! You’ll never hear from me again!”

“Oh, my dear” said Feffa, staring at Faye with the slightest glint of condescendence. “I know and you know that that is not an option.”

The lonesome trio had just left the outskirts of the city when a cold wind started to blow. Raibeart had tried to acquire the only donkey around, but had not succeeded, especially after the intervention of Lordani and Faye. The owner of the animal just seemed to be very respectful towards a suddenly angry wife once the beautiful tiefling came into the conversation.

Lordani could not even start to object to the pleading of Faye’s mother. She was not on duty, and could do some good by helping this family to put some sense into their vapid child. Raibeart thought only of the delicious food he would be able to get once he did his bid, yet still had no kinder thoughts over the comb and all the conversation that ensued from it.

Faye, most of all, was very discontent and walked sullenly without even looking back. She was a few steps ahead from her party and tried to think of all the times her family had held her back with this sort of trickery. Obviously, she had never been at the mines, but inside her head it was the last place she would like to visit in the whole Republic.

“So dirty, ew” she said. “And cold, I bet.”

In fact, they were starting to feel the coldness rising sharply. They had already walked for three hours and had to find a place to rest.

“Wait”, warned Raibeart.

They stopped. The wind blew, and with it they heard the long and whistled sound that chilled them to the bones.

“WOLFES!”, yelled Faye. Soon after, two white shadows came slowly over the piling snow, and then a third one joined right behind. They seemed famished but fierce, and ran and jumped straight to the arriving necks.

Raibeart rapidly drew his longbow and tried to pierce some of them, with no success. Lordani had her halberd ready in her hands and slashed in two pieces the hungriest wolf, which had had no chance of escaping amid air. She then looked distraught to Faye, who of them was the only one who had never faced the dangers of the road, the perils of the battle.

However, there she was, right behind her, the tiny little girl standing close to her right leg. With her, two daggers held in a good stance, she realized, and then she knew the little brat was not so hopeless after all.

The parlay with the wolves was brief but bloodied. They had all been injured, their legs bitten by fang and ice. Raibeart had an ugly perforation in his belly but was holding still, waiting for the others to recollect. Lordani had slashed and cut as she could, but at the end tiredness crept in and made her lower her guard and be bitten, while Faye panted, her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

“You’ve done all right, Miss Highleaf”, said Lordani, grimacing.

“Yeah, I know”, replied the little woman. Somewhere around, they just heard a muffled grunt and knew that Raibeart had just acknowledged the same, in his own way.

Biographies: Raibeart Mac an Tàilleir

"Darn, where's ma pipe?" (Raibeart Mac an Tàilleir, last of the Drabembur)

Raibeart lived with his dwarven folk for many years, prospering somewhere in the Northern highlands and living off the trade of iron and copper. His kind excelled in the hunting of giants and was one of the only peoples in the known territories to still hone such skills.

One day, however, the tribe was raided by white orcs, and bloodshed followed. The dwarves resisted and survived, but only a few months later another attack overwhelmed them, this time with an alliance of giants and orcs.

The Drabembur were obliterated, and Raibeart barely escaped. His land, his folks, his life: embedded in the crimson colors of death.

What Raibeart saw of his people has followed him ever since in the shape of vengeance. Though honored in his own way, the highland dwarf is quick to resort to violent solutions to the simplest of problems. He found in the road the medicine to his maladies and discovered in the hunting of orcs and giants alike the cure to the poison of his vendetta.

His kin is gone, but he remembers all.

And most of all, he remembers them.

Appearances: Book I: Unhinged, Chapter One.

Biographies: Faye Highleaf

"Faye, oh my goodness, will you ever make your family proud?" (Feffa Highleaf, Councilwoman from the Northern Steadfast Republic)

Faye was born in a craddle of gold at the heart of one of the wealthiest families in the Northern Steadfast Republic, land of the small people. Snobbish and bold, the young halfling always put herself in trouble by disobeying the authorities and, mostly, her mother, to the dismay of the eccentric Feffa Highleaf.

In order to follow her rebellious instincts, she became quite proficient in burglary after discovering what a thrill it was to invade politicians homes and relieve them of precious belongings. The look of distress on their faces!

But more than that, she took pleasure in tarnishing the Highleaf lineage. Not that she was found very often, but the few times that happened her mother would use her name's influence to leverage the quietest of solutions. 

Faye was taken as vapid and foolhardy by the other noble persons of the distinguished small people society, but never failed to impress them all in their silly balls and ceremonies. Her laugh was one of the finest in the Capital for many years.

Appearances: Book I: Unhinged, Chapter One.

Biographies: Lordani

"You were born from a woman who believed suffering was good for the soul -- and thus, you suffered." (Sister Eltani, Healer from the Order of the Scarlet Heart)

Lordani was born within a mercenary company founded by tieflings, the Blackhorns. She never met her father.

After quitting from the Blackhorns, her mother sought safety beyond the Ephemeral Kingdoms, Tiefenland. She was raised in isolation, hardship and discipline. Her mother wished her to return to the company and honor their names, employing both lecture and beating to make her a fearsome warrior. However, little Lordani would not yield from her own self, and many times disobeyed an often flustered and always ready to hit mother.

One day, a messenger arrived carrying news from the Blackhorns: half the company was massacred in battle. The survivors had disappeared. Her mother did not yell at her, nor beated her, nor sent her to her chores. "Go to the woods for a while. I need time to think", she said. By the evening, Lordani found her hanging from the ceiling.

After the shock, she grasped the little strength she managed to gather and went for the scattered Blackhorns. The remnants had lost all pride they had, and fought cheaply for anyone. Still, she honored her family and decided to make the Blackhorns great once more. Lordani joined them as a scout, and tried to discover the fate of her long absent father, with no success.

Yet, again tragedy struck at her doors, for one morning she returned from a scouting mission and found the camp drowning in blood and fire. 

Eventually, a paladin from the Order of the Scarlet Heart discovered Lordani awash in grief amid the carnage and took her away. She introduced the young tiefling to the Order and thus Lordani too found in herself the resilience and goodwill to be paladin in the eyes of the Lady Serene, patron goddess of the Order.

Appearances: Book I: Unhinged, Chapter One.

A Random Heroes Saga: Beginnings

Imagine that you're playing Dungeons & Dragons 5E. 

Now, imagine that you have no control over which character you're going to play with. Roll the dice and it'll decide what's gonna be.

Face the outcome, play it to the end.

Welcome to A Random Heroes Saga. We're a bunch of friends who decided that chaos is fun and built our characters according to random results from different dices. Absolutely ALL aspects of character building were delegated to our dear numbered cubes, so the thrill was too much to handle most of the time.

Except that chaos has told us such... compelling stories.

Little did we know that all characters came up coherent and well-built, independent in their storytelling ability and full of wonderful possibilites to follow. Of course, we took advantage of the 5E background templates and expanded them beautifully. Now we have characters that feel like they were embodied by passer-by spirits, willing to come to life once more through our perilous adventures.

And who am I? 

Well, obviously, I'm the Dungeon Master. And now I'll relay to you what's the story chaos has been telling us for the past few months.

This so called A Random Heroes Saga.

Cheers,

H.