This is Your Life

Xunhar's parents were both alive in the roll, but let's just kill his father. His mother was rolled as an artisan, but a priestess and head of the house would make more sense.

Xunhar rolled one younger sister and 3 to 6 (!) older sisters (2 to 4 of them being twins, triplets or quadruplets, which would be regarded as a gift from Lolth and mean that the family is in the good favor of the Queen of Spiders). They were of various occupations but would probably mostly be priestesses of Lolth (especially the twins) or noble conspirators, rogues, maybe one being a weapon master.

Xunhar witnessed a powerful spell being cast by a cleric, a druid, a sorcerer, a warlock, or a wizard (probably during his time with the Jaezred Chaulssin). Another time something magical happened, Xunhar turned invisible for a time (this probably helped him survive in the Underdark).

Xunhar became an Outlander after a family tragedy (fitting).

Xunhar made an enemy of a gnome (deep/svirfneblin, possibly?) adventurer named Symma Lilli, in an event in which he was not at fault.

Xunhar gained a bit of good fortune, and found a treasure map.

Xunhar met someone important, a dragonborn named Vrondiss Nadarr.

“A man’s fear is a more honest thing than his friendship.” - Infernal proverb

Khinboldor is a stone city set deep in the Koryaz Mountains in the Northern Wastes of Kara Tur. Travelers seeking to pass through the inhospitable rocky wastes do not ordinarily pass by this ancient city of ambiguous origin, and therefore there are few who find it. Those who do come by it do so either because they have heard the rumours and legends, or because the denizens of Khinboldor send their scouts to welcome the travellers as guests.

When word does spread about Khinboldor, there are a few details that remain consistent. The people who live there are of varied races and live solemn, seemingly unhappy lives and have little to say, despite offering refuge to weary travellers. The city itself seems older possibly even then the mountains into which it is built, they say. But most of all, people talk about the Dis Forge.

The Dis Forge is a rupture in the side of the mountain, out of which continually pours liquid fire into a great semicircular forge. At this forge the people make weapons and tools, though not in any great quantity.

The truth behind Khinboldor is that there are more ‘guests’ invited to stay than ever leave. For the real inhabitants of the city are the Duergar who live in the caverns beneath. These Duergar worship the fiend lord Dispater, with his great forge and legendary armour created within the city of Dis. The people living on the surface are the slaves of the Duegar, who are used to keep the city running and to lure travellers into the city.

When a travelling group is coaxed to stay in Khinboldor, they are welcomed and made comfortable, given food and drink, and asked in detail about any secrets they may know from outside the mountains. For it is these secrets that the Duergar believe are the real offerings they give up to their infernal lord.

When the travellers’ knowledge is learned, the unfortunate victims are thrown into the Dis Forge in a nightly ritual as a sacrifice to Dispater. The exceptions are those young or impressionable enough to be turned into slaves. These people become the same denizens who lured their families and companions into their doom…

Shio Xuang knew all of this as he grew up in Khinboldor. He had never known anything but life in the mountains and the city. He saw what happened, with travellers being lured in and the cycle going on week after week. Insightful and intelligent, Shio had always assumed that his parents must have been some such travellers who fell victim to the Duergar’s trap. Yet oddly he did not feel pity for the sacrifices, for he had no idea whether life was any better  beyond the mountains.

There came a day when scouts announced a sighting of a sage and his entourage passing through the Koyraz Mountains. Shio and a number of others were selected to go out to this sage and bring him back to the city, so that his secrets may be learned. Shio led the group of scouts and came to the sage’s caravan. They learned that the sage’s name was Avelin Ingram, and that she was a celebrated scholar, prodigious since her age was about the same as Shio. Shio was struck by her beauty and grace, as well as her intellect, yet he obeyed his mandate and lured her and her group back to the city with promises of rest and comfort.

Whilst speaking with Avelin, Shio learned that Avelin was an enchantress who specialised in studying and understanding sentient weapons. She’d had the opportunity to study a great many and was on her way south in search of a particular one - a Morning Star named Vemdihr which was said to have belonged to a devil lord of old.

Shio relayed all of this to his Duergar masters, who agreed among themselves that Avelin was a beacon of knowledge that would be eagerrly received by their infernal lord, Dispater. Shio was told to return to his business. He did so with a heavy heart, regretting that he had not had more time in the company of the enchanting Avelin Ingram.

In his chamber, he lay down to rest. But when he was asleep, it were as though he was transported to a great walled city - like Khinboldor, but on a much more massive scale, with walls hundreds of feet tall. From a great tower set into the side of one of the walls, a booming voice called to him. The voice said that it was weary of the Duergar’s inane offerings - that they were not the ones who had created the forge and that they had entirely misunderstood and bastardised its purpose. The voice - which Shio now realised was Dispater himself - stated that he had already seen Avelin, and that he was interested in her secrets and what she would discover, but that he would learn nothing useful if the idiotic Duergar simply threw her into the forge. Therefore, Dispater commanded Shio to warn Avelin and help her escape Khinboldor.

Shio woke in a hot sweat. Seeing that it was almost evening and the sacrificial ceremony would soon begin, he quickly sought out Avelin and her guards, and warned them of what was about to happen to them. Horrified, Avelin accepted Shio’s offer of help and was led through the narrow alleys between ancient stone houses to one of the lesser known gates from the city. Several of her guards agreed to remain behind, so as to give her a better chance of escaping without drawing attention to herself.

Just before she left, Avelin turned and took an amulet from around her neck and pressed it into Shio’s hand. She explained that it was blessed and would protect Shio in his time of need, as a reward for helping her. And then she was gone.

Shio stuffed the amulet into his pocket, not daring to wear it openly for fear of attracting suspicion. But it was too late for that. The Duergar’s spies saw him returning from the gate, and when it transpired that Avelin was gone it was obvious who was responsible. The Duergar were outraged. They dragged Shio - along with the guards who had stayed behind - to the great forge. First, they threw the guards into the fire, holding Shio firmly until their screams subsided, letting him fill with fear at the notion that he would quickly share their fate.

They took the amulet, which had been found on him, and held it over the fire until it was searing hot. Then the Duergar priest pressed the amulet against the side of his face. The burning metal sizzled his flesh and Shio’s cries of pain echoed across the mountains.

Then, as they were lifting him to be thrown into the forge, a sound rang down from the sky that was like an enormous hammer striking an anvil. The mountains began to shake and crack. Quickly, the Duergar threw Shio into the forge, but the coals and fire within fell away, as if the ground beneath it had simply collapsed. Shio fell a seemingly endless distance, before the blackness took him.

When Shio awoke, he was in a steam pit of charred rocks. Clambering to his feet, he slowly climbed out, realising that the pit was what was left of the forge. The city had been laid to waste, and all signs of the Duergar were gone. His fellow slaves, it seemed, had survived but fled. If the Duergar were alive, they were sealed in the caverns beneath the mountain.

Shio sat down - the side of his face still badly burned - and considered what he should do. As he did, an imp flew down from the sky. A strip of leather was folded over its back, with the ends stitched into the imp’s very heart. Shio understood - though he was not sure how - that this was a messenger from Dispater, and that the message was branded onto the imp’s back - if anyone apart from the recipient attempted to remove the leather to see the message, the imp would die and disappear, along with the message.

Tentatively, Shio did remove the leather and found that the message - seared into the imp’s flesh - was indeed for him. It was an instruction and a mandate that he was now to do Dispater’s work where the Duergar had failed so terribly. He was to go into the world, seeking out secrets and lore which the Lord of the Iron Palace would have added to his library.

Shio found Avelin’s amulet in the imp’s hand, but the emblem on it had been changed to the emblem of Dispater. The imp placed the amulet around Shio’s neck - a token of the pact that had been made, and then flew away.

As Shio made his way down the mountain, he contemplated these things and wondered what had become of Avelin. Would she be the bearer of one of the secrets he would have to seek out for Dispater? Did that mean he would see her again? But what of her amulet, that had been corrupted and twisted by the Lord of Dis?

Then Shio realised that Avelin’s own emblem - which had originally been on the amulet - did remain with him: it was branded into the flesh of his burned face. He forged himself a mask with which to cover it. But he was not covering it out of shame, or to spare the stomachs of any who might look at him. Rather he was preserving the seal of Avelin, hoping that he would one day cross paths with the beautiful young sage and prove that he was the one who had helped her escape the Duergar of Khinboldor.

Parents: 74 | You know who your parents are or were.
Birthplace: 64 |  Carriage, cart, or wagon
Siblings: 3 | # 1 | 6 - Older
Family : 87 - Mother and Father
Family LifeStyle: 10 - Modest (+0)
Childhood Home: 93 - Mansion
Memories: 7 - Others saw me as being different or strange, and so I had few companions.
Background (Sage): 1 - I was naturally curious, so I packed up and went to a university to learn more about the world.
Class (Wizard): 5 - An old wizard chose me from among several candidates to serve an apprenticeship.

Life Events: 67 | 3 - You have suffered a tragedy |
12 - A current or prospective romantic partner of yours died. Roll on the Cause of Death supplemental table to find out how. If the result is murder, roll a d12. On a 1, you were responsible, whether directly or indirectly
1 - Unknown

Name: Andarel
Race: Elvish (Custom Lineage)
Class: Wizard (Bladesinger)

Background:
Andarel put down the last of her student's papers and leant back in her chair, she was so sick of her life. Her tenure at the college had been a wonderful opportunity at the time, and it had been comfortable living for the last few years. She was a research assistant for one of the professors of magical arts, and she herself showed some aptitude for the arts - not anything to brag about but she felt she would have fared well against the majority of students that passed through the halls. Though as each semesters passed and she saw her students move on towards their chosen careers, their safe and stable livelihoods laid out before them.

Andarel was good at her research, and as much as she loved magic and wizardry her heart truly only raced when she imagined herself in her favourite tales - sword and sorcery, the sorts that bards would sing about in taverns with heroes saving the day and vile monsters trying to kill them. Her friends were often coerced with the offer of a free round to join her at one or another of the local inns when Andarel had heard that there was a bard of any renown performing. To be honest it was one of the few times that she got away from the college grounds, and that only made the whimsical dreams all the more alluring to her.

Andarel loved the thought of being one of the figures in those stories so much that when she had heard of the college's fencing club, she had spilled her ink vial all over her robes and the text she was copying out, and had needed to delay her investigation whilst she cleared her mess up. She had signed up that day and had never regretted it, despite the regular bruises that she had come away with in her first visits. Very little got her blood flowing like the parry and riposte on the duelling runway, in fact, she could only remember one other moment in her life that she had felt so alive...

She thought back to that night with mixed emotions, she and her friends had been out to see some over-rated minstrel who had only been entertaining by laughing at them, rather than with them. The poor performance had led to a few more tankards than normal and though most of her friends had left earlier in the evening, Andarel and her closest friend, and sometimes more than that, Gueilia had found themselves drinking until the barkeep had closed up and ushered all the patrons out into the streets. They had been halfway back to the college and a cozy bed before they had noticed a couple of the other patrons still behind them, a couple of drunken louts by their stagger but the stagger seemed to become a little more lurching as they started to close the distance to the two girls. The memories flew through Andarel's mind, starting to run and dragging Gueilia by the arm, turning down a side street, crashing into poorly stacked barrels sending herself sprawling onto the cobbled floor, the crash and splinter of the barrels signalling to their pursuers. The men had caught up and had a lecherous look about them, feeling around, Andarel's hand closed on a thin piece of wood that must have broken away when the barrels broke. She had struck one of the men in the face and landed the splintered point of her weapon in the thigh of the other without so much as a conscious thought. Gueilia hadn't made it back...

Andarel remembered the rush she felt with that memory, the fear of the unknown and the exhilaration that came with it as she had fought off two adversaries. Then came the sorrow she had never let go of; news about Gueilia had arrived later that week, found dead in another part of the city, no witnesses or leads as to how she had died. Everyone else had left that memory in the past now, except Andarel. She needed to get out of here, travel somewhere with a bit of adventure, something less mundane 

This is Your Life rolls:

Number of siblings: 8

Birth order of them: 6 , 3 , 7 and 9

     Older Sister, perhaps vying for leadership of the tribe? Two younger siblings, not yet born when Vanek was banished and he has never met them. One twin.  A sister.  Vanek always suspected she was developing skills as well but she wouldn't talk about it, and if she was she definitely hid it better.  Still and all, she is the only one he truly misses...

Class Training: 4

When a monster threatened one of my friends, I became filled with anxiety. I lashed out instinctively and blasted the wretched thing with a force that came from within me.

     It was Vanek's sister the monster threatened.  They knew of Yeti, of course. Had even watched the elders hunt them before.  But they were climbing alone that day...  Vanek is sure the blast saved his sisters life but it also started the rift between them where they both started to keep things hidden from the other...

Life Events... Assuming Vanek is 21-30 years old.  2

     3 life events.  180

      Rolled oddly but

69 & 58 the same - You spent time working in a job related to your background. Start the game with an extra 2d6 gp. 14 

91You committed a crime or were wrongly accused of doing so. Roll on the Crime table to determine the nature of the offense and on the Punishment table to see what became of you. 1 -- Vanek never burgled, it was a misunderstanding about currency exchange rates!  Punishment -- 11 -- And oh good, he was exonerated!!  The system works! 

Name: Fuse
Race: Probably V.Human or that new custom race. Or. outside shot of Half Elf if not though.
(Potential Feats: Mobile Feat, or Crusher Feat)
Class Artificer (Alchemist), with a Genie Warlock Dip. :
Background: TBD, but will likely be a custom one to gain herbalism tools, and medicine profiency.
Links with Other Applicant's characters: N/A currently; unless my friend decides to apply
Notes for DM: We chatteda bit on the direct message. Which I'm going to follow up (Concerns the Alchemical Blaster)

Fusegrew up around his father's workshop. His mother managed the business, while the father tinnkered as he liked. It was a nice childhood, with many hours spent watching his father's broad back, or listening to his mother's educational lectures. On the rare occasions his parents would regail their own histories; they were rather successful adventurers. The mother being adept with blades, and a bit of mental proweress (SoulKnife Rogue), while his father was a studied magic user(transmutation wizard), specializing in forcefully altering things, believing controling the world means controling your fate. They were successful and loved every moment of it. They retired after they lose onf otheir crew; involving a misidentification of a petrifaction effect, it wasn't magical, it was a strong poison. They couldn't save their friend. It was a wake up call that they weren't invinsible, tha their hubris would lead them to ruin eventually. So they quit, started a shop, started a family.
Fuse didn't have the natural talents of his parents- he wasn't good with magic, nor did he have his mother's mental proweress. but that wouldn't stop him, he wnated to go on adventures. He studied well, learned to make do with tools. Turned alchemy into his weapon.
His childhood friend Sigfrid, who often came over and took a liking to his mother and wanted to be like her joined him on his little idea. Together they went off and tried their hand at exploring, seeing the sights, doing random work. Living an adventerious life. It was good for a while; but Fuse keenly felt the difference in ability, how much he lagged behind and how much he felt like he slowed Sig down.
He left.
he went back home, to his parents, his father saw through him, that he didn't take a short vacation like he said; but that he quit. His father motivated him by discussing new designs, taking the clever ideas Zylo had had. Taking his crystalized shards via alchemy magic, as well as his enchanted magic converting compressiong etched rune concepts and together they designed a theoritcal weapon. Using alchemy it converted and crsytalzed the basic elements into gems, that were inserted small cylinders. While the runic etching would absorb ambient magic, compressing it over time, which was pushed into quicksilver conduits, to be transmited to the Alchemy Shards, to create a force multiplyer. A little magic, to go a long way.
To Fuse, this was just a fun concept project with his father; but his father had a different plan. he intended to make his son a gift, something to give him hope, and help him forge the path he wanted; whether it was to be an adventurer, to inheret the shop, or just to make it up to Sig.
Calling in favors, as well as some of his own hidden cache from his adventuring days his father acquired the materials and created it. While he was at it, he asked a favor from a former teammate, asking them to help keep an eye an keep his child safe.
On that day Fuse recieved a new weapon, as well as a ring-one that was combined of each of his parent's wedding bands. So he would always feel their love, no matter how far he was.

Fuse; Age 19 at the end of backstory.
Parents:
Father: Caldwell, chaotic good, Occupation: Alchemy Enchanter shop.Relationship: Good
Mother: Marin. Neutral good . Occupation: Housewife, accountant at the shop. Relationship: Spoiled
Birthplace: The darkwolf Keep (made up name)
Siblings: None
Family: Father. Mother. As well as "uncle and aunts" who were former parent's party members. formerly grandparents but they died comforably in their sleep shortly before he left for adventuring
Family LIfestyle: Comfortable.
Childhood Home: Apartment over the "shop"
Childhood memories: Happily watching father tinker in his shop, or mother's control of the spirits and cooking.
Personal Decision:
Class Training: Artificer; I became one because I grew up watching father.
Life Event
Tragedy: A family member or a close friend died. Roll on the Cause of Death supplemental table to find out how.
Cause of Death: Natural causes, such as disease or old age
You went on an adventure. Roll on the Adventures table to see what happened to you. Work with your DM to determine the nature of the adventure and the creatures you encountered.
Adventure: You found a considerable amount of treasure on your adventure. You have 1d20 + 50 (53) gp left from your share of it.
Life Event
You made an enemy of an adventurer. Roll a d6 (5). An odd number indicates you are to blame for the rift, and an even number indicates you are blameless. Use the supplemental tables and work with your DM to determine this hostile character's identity and the danger this enemy poses to you.
Enemy
Name: Sigfrid
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Alignment: Neutral good
Class: Rogue
Relationship: Friendly
Status: Alive and quite successful
We worked together as adventurers for a time period; until Fuse's lack of confidence, and inability to use magic well, resulted in him quitting.

bit of a place holder here.  Trying to wingding an idea. might be too much for a level 1.  Also need to figure out the This Is Your Life detail which might requrie tomorrow's brain.

 Looking at an Alchemist Artificer; with probably multiclassing to swing something. As I rather expect the restricted elements to be problematic (fire, acid, poison, necrotic.  My fav being poison and necrotic; but poison is very problematic I think, and necrotic well no cantrips for at base~)
details for tomorrow brain

Norman was the youngest of 6 siblings, 4 sisters and one older brother. Before Norman was born his father was captured by drow when he left for his business trip to Mirabar. You see his father was a merchant but with out his father's income Norman's mother had to provide by herself. Fortunately Norman's father had saved enough to have bought a large house so his family could live comfortably. Never the less Norman's mother was still pregnant, she went to a local temple to help with the birthing of Norman.  Years passed by as the family helped one another. They were rich but they had food and a warm home. 

Norman's childhood was an ordinary one he had several friends and he was generally happy. That was until his mother told him what really happened to his father. The missing void of a father figure, filled Norman with anger so instead of helping out in the family business of selling goods. Norman took up the sword and shield instead.  He enlisted in a local army training with mounts and bred dogs. He would eventually be promoted to a captian leading an all halfing calvary. 

Ability scores: 17 13 12 13 8 14 

parents 8 
known

birthplace 20 
home

Number of siblings 7 
None

Family 14  
Adoptive

family lifestyle 11 
Modest

 Childhood home 100  
Mansion

Childhood memories (add Cha mod after) 11 
Everyone knew who I was, and I had friends everywhere I went.

 Background 4 
My family recently came by its title, and that elevation thrust us into a new and strange world

class training 4 
A fantastical being appeared before me and called on me to undertake a holy quest

Life events by age 90 
41-50 years old with 2 life events 

 Life events 81 50 64 41 65 
You suffered a tragedy. Roll on the Tragedies table. 6 
You did something that brought terrible shame to you in the eyes of your family. You might have been involved in a scandal, dabbled in dark magic, or offended someone important. The attitude of your family members toward you becomes indifferent at best, though they might eventually forgive you

ou made an enemy of an adventurer. Roll a d6. An odd number indicates you are to blame for the rift, and an even number indicates you are blameless. Use the supplemental tables and work with your DM to determine this hostile character’s identity and the danger this enemy poses to you (x2) 4 6 

You spent time working in a job related to your background. Start the game with an extra 2d6 gp 3 

You encountered something magical. Roll on the Arcane Matters table 8 
You were charmed or frightened by a spell

 Parents’ alignment x2 12 roll]3d6[/roll] 
13
Dad - neutral Mom- neutral good
Class 15 92 
Dad - druid Mom- fighter
Occupations 13 26 
Dad - soldier Mom- merchant
Both are human 
Relationship with them (prior to tragedy) 5 4 
Friendly? Lol
Status 7 11 
Alive and well

Character coming...

Maximilian is 44 years old, and has been the likable adopted son of a Durskan Clanwhisk and Ophelia Clanwhisk, all of whom were recently raised to nobility, due in large part to a -very- successful farming business that has grown leaps and bounds under the Druidic powers of Durskan and the eye for business of Ophelia.

Maximilian enjoyed his life of relative luxury even before the uplifting. He was likable by most who knew him, and while not lazy, he certainly enjoyed a great deal more free time than many. He picked up many of the natural traits of his parents, and honed them only haphazardly for the most part.

That is until he learned he was adopted. When they were raised, his parents were forced to reveal that he was not a true blood heir. They had found him abandoned in a barn. Having no children of their own, they sought to raise him. Having learned the truth, he found himself somewhat disgruntled and moody- and although he saw his good fortune and knew he should feel blessed, he felt abandoned somehow. He began reaching for vice and the more ill-regarded facets of life his wealth made available to him.  With two of his close friends, he delved into dark magic practices, calling up a devil. Maximilian recalls feeling so very strange about the devil, and learning terrible secrets from it. Before it got very far, he was discovered by his family, who are appalled. They banished him from their residence in the city to an abandoned and somewhat shabby country manor. He has been earnest in his attempts to make up for his mistakes there. He worked the farm (little more than a garden) alone. His friends approached him once to try to see about summoning the devil again, and he rebuked them. He said quite terrible things to one of them, in fact, blaming him for the whole affair. The three were quite angry with each other by the time it was done, and have not remained in contact.

One day, Maximilian was working his same garden, and a being that could not possibly have been mortal appeared. It spoke to him of divine purpose, and a call to take up the “Light of the Righteous Hammer.” It was part offer, part demand. It reviewed his life’s deeds without allowing for excuse or glossing over. When Maximilian heard all of this, he felt the need to do more before he ran out of time in his life. He was now 45 years old, and he grew to despise the waste his life had been til then. The being began to train his body and his spirit to wield power. He’d actually made quite a bit of progress, when the being disappeared.

Within a few days, he was taken by the Drow... it seems fate is ready to test his mettle.

Of note: the two adventurers whom he has this rift with are two others who were with him in calling up the devil. There is mixed feelings from when Maximilian stopped engaging in the practice with him.

Origins: 

Parents - 53

Birthplace - 51

Siblings - 10

Family - 35

 Absent Parent - 3

Family Lifestyle - 7

Childhood Home - 33 + Family Lifestyle roll

Childhood Memories - 7 + Family Lifestyle roll

Personal Decisions: 

Noble Background - 1

Class Training: 

Fighter Background - 6

Life Events: 

Age - 39

Life Events by Age - 3

 Life Event 1 - 26

Life Event 2 - 71

"I was born in the Cave of Songs beneath the minor dwarfhold of Mulgard, first son of clan Mulheim, Duradin. I had much to look forward to as a child of minor nobility among the Hill dwarves, and yet, some things just aren't meant to be. Both of my parents disappeared when I was but two or three years old - lost under mysterious circumstances, though some of the older servants whisper of messages sent in the night, and a hurried trip to the far south from which they never returned. I was still in the care of my nurse at the time: an elder second cousin, as it happened, whose extended family also happened to be the closest living relatives with any valid claim to my fortune until my coming of age. And so, despite the loss of my father, the Clanlord, life moved on in Mulgard under the watchful eyes of my cousins and uncles, leaving me free to pursue an education in all arts proper to a young dwarf lord. I can't say I was much of a student, except in combat training, but at least I did make friends with Neylin, a many-times removed cousin, who was also a sweet, blonde dwarf-girl. She was three years, five months and three days my senior. I later married that woman. Times were lean, in those years, as many traders refused to sully their reputations by making a stop at such a minor clanhold, but the townsfolk of Mulgard knew me well, and I them. Through several years of work, and careful management, I brought us back from the edge of starvation after I came of age, and our coffers at last had a few coins to give them heft. Things... well, things couldn't have been happier. My uncles tried to do right by me and mine, but they simply didn't have the head for that sort of thing - we got by, but never saw more than a few bits of gold come our way for each year spent in the mines, fields, and forests. I was the one who had to secure a trade deal with the Woodsmen to our East, and a contract with the merchants guild to become a waypoint on their route. It was tough bargaining, but I bought us time to develop, to grow. I brought us the future.

Still, 'peace never lasts,' the old saying goes, and soon my people began to suffer the predations of raids from cruel dwarves and gnomes from far beneath the surface. At a loss and without allies, once the Woodsmen left and the merchants stopped coming, I took up axe and shield in an effort to stave off the thieves, but it was - I was - too little, and too late. They... they took her. Killed her right in front of me, I think, holding my face to the ground as they burned down our walls to the foundations. I don't remember so well what happened about then - only bits and pieces. But... I remember her hair, and the color it turned when her life's blood flowed by. I don't know how long I cried.

It was pain that woke me. The pain of work, in the deep dark. I tried to fight, even then, but was beaten down time and again. The murdering dark dwarves seemed to think I was funny. They sold me, when it pleased them, to these pissants, who put me in this cage. I... I sometimes wonder if I'll ever get home again, or even if I'd want to. But, then I remember her, and the way she'd smile at the stars, and I know, deep down, that I have to keep going. One more step, one more fight, until I can win back our home. Or, until I see her again. It's what she would want, I think."