Kalem's fingers worked deftly, tracing the intricate lines of a rune circuit as the glow of mana pulsed softly beneath his touch. The forge's heat mixed with the cool night air, creating a contrast between warmth and chill as his friends sat around him, sharing stories and laughter.
"So, tell us more," Nara said suddenly, her sharp grin flashing in the dim light.
"More about what?" Kalem asked, not looking up from his work. The rune circuit needed precision, and distractions were the enemy of precision.
"You know, about what you did before coming here," Nara continued, leaning forward. "There's gotta be more shenanigans associated with you."
Kalem's hands didn't falter, but there was a slight pause before he responded. "I'm sure everyone here has a past worth talking about."
"You shouldn't ask things like that so directly," Lyra scolded Nara, shaking her head. "People have their reasons for keeping things private."
"Hey, I'm just curious," Nara shot back. "Besides, don't tell me you aren't."
Lyra opened her mouth, hesitated, then sighed. "...Maybe a little."
Nara crossed her arms triumphantly. "See? Curiosity is natural." Then, before anyone could stop her, she grinned wider. "But you're right, Lyra. To make it fair, I'll go first."
"You're really going to unravel your entire life story just to hear something exciting?" Jhaeros raised an eyebrow.
"YES."
Garrick chuckled. "Don't bother. Orcs, throughout history, have only ever been known for two things—adventurers or monks. No middle ground."
"You know a lot of history," Isolde noted, eyeing him.
"I am in the history department, you know." Garrick frowned. "Didn't I already mention that?"
"No," Kalem answered flatly.
"Oh." Garrick blinked, then shrugged. "Well, now you know."
Nara ignored the sidetrack and sat up straighter. "Alright, listen up, because this one's good."
The group leaned in as she began, the glow of the forge casting flickering shadows around them.
Nara's homeland was the Ash-Desert, a once-thriving land turned into a scorched wasteland. According to legend, an ancient fire elemental had rampaged across the land long ago, scorching forests to cinders, boiling rivers dry, and turning fertile fields into an expanse of fine gray ash and jagged black rock. Even after centuries, the land had never recovered.
The desert was a harsh place, but life found a way.
Some creatures had adapted—ash-feeders that sifted through the gray dunes for nutrients, burrowing predators that lay in wait beneath the scorched earth, and winged scavengers that rode the heat currents rising from the cracks in the ground. Strange fungi, feeding on the residual magic of the disaster, pulsed with faint light in the nights, their glow the only break from the endless darkness of the wasteland.
It was in this land of relentless survival that Nara's people, the Ash-Orcs, thrived.
Nara was born in one of the largest surviving settlements—Drak'Vohl, a city perched atop an obsidian plateau. Unlike the wandering nomadic orcs, the people of Drak'Vohl had built a permanent home, their city a fortress of hardened ash bricks and volcanic stone. They traded rare minerals, fire-resistant materials, and weapons forged from metal tempered in the heat vents of the deep fissures.
But despite the safety of the city, Nara's grandfather had refused to let her grow up soft.
"Strength is the only path forward," he had told her. "And those who cannot carve their own path will be swept away like dust in the wind."
So he trained her.
Brutally.
Her mornings were spent hunting in the ash dunes, tracking creatures that had perfected the art of ambush. At noon, she would spar against warriors twice her size—if she lost, she got back up and fought again. By night, she was thrown into the pits of elemental training, forced to tame the fire within her blood until her body could channel flames without being burned.
And she loved every second of it.
But it wasn't all discipline and training—there were misadventures along the way.
"Let me tell you about the time I bear-hugged someone into submission," Nara said proudly, leaning forward with a grin.
Lyra gave her a skeptical look. "You're saying that literally?"
"Oh, absolutely," Nara laughed. "The guy was a mercenary, came into Drak'Vohl thinking he could challenge our warriors. Strong dude, but all strength, no technique. So, I tackled him mid-charge, locked my arms around him, and squeezed until he tapped out."
"You crushed a mercenary with a hug?" Isolde raised an eyebrow.
"A very aggressive hug."
Jhaeros smirked. "That is both impressive and ridiculous."
"Oh, that's just the start." Nara waved a hand dismissively. "There was also the time I punched an ash-bear in the face."
"You're making that up," Garrick scoffed.
"Nope," Nara said smugly. "It was during a trial. The ash-bear was hunting me, so I turned around and decked it right between the eyes. Stunned it just long enough for me to grab a knife and take it down properly."
Kalem finally looked up from his rune circuit. "That doesn't sound like a good survival strategy."
"Oh, it's not." Nara grinned. "It's just way more fun."
The group chuckled, shaking their heads.
Eventually, after years of training, fighting, and getting into ridiculous situations, Nara had outgrown her home. She had fought every warrior worth fighting, faced the strongest beasts, and proved her strength over and over.
But there was more to the world than Drak'Vohl.
And so, she had left.
Nara's arrival at the academy hadn't been subtle.
"I walked in, challenged the first person I saw, and nearly got expelled before I even enrolled," she admitted, grinning.
"You did what?" Lyra gasped.
"I misunderstood the entrance procedure," Nara said, shrugging. "Back home, when you enter a new territory, you prove yourself by fighting the strongest person there. Turns out, that's not how things work here."
Isolde sighed. "You fought an instructor, didn't you?"
"Oh, yeah. Broke his arm, too."
Silence.
"…And they still let you enroll?" Garrick asked, incredulous.
Nara grinned. "I mean, yeah, after I agreed to go through the actual entrance exam."
The academy had been the perfect place to challenge herself, to find new rivals, new battles, and new ways to push her limits.
"And that's how I got here," Nara finished, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
Silence settled over the group for a moment as they processed everything.
As Nara finished her story, the forge was quiet for a moment. Then Jhaeros exhaled.
"I take back what I said earlier," he muttered. "That was actually entertaining."
Nara smirked. "Told you."
She turned to Kalem. "Alright, your turn. I told my story. Now, spill something interesting."
Kalem, who had been listening with an unreadable expression, slowly finished his rune circuit. He set down his tools, glanced at Nara, and then at the rest of the group.
A moment passed.
Then he simply said, "No."
Nara groaned. "Oh, come on!"
Kalem smirked, returning to his work.
"Maybe next time."