The rough-hewn cavern was smoky and ill lit. Three flickering, smoky torches burned in their holders while five youngster sat around a greasy table looking with disgust at the serving dish overflowing with turnips, cabbage and broccoli. In the rush covered floor several large beetles scavenged for scraps.

The youngsters fell silent and froze when the hulking shape stepped into the cavern entrance. Raisa the Swiftkiller was large even from a female Dark Troll. She stood a shade over two meters tall and weighed almost two hundred kilos. Most of it muscles. She was, as always, carrying her massive enchanted lead great mace over her left shoulder. Her dark grey hide blended into the gloom of the room while her beady little eyes glittered in her grinning face. Her large nostrils flared as she sampled the air warily. Her mouth dropped open in amusement showing her jagged carnivore’s teeth in her prominent muzzle.

The four boys cringed and bowed low. The solitary girl stiffened her spine and with difficulty met her great aunt’s eyes. Raisa snorted with amusement but nonetheless marked a potential future rival. She strode confidently into the cave killing one of the giant beetles that got in her way with a careless kick.

As she took her place on the crude chair at the head of the table she said, “I bid you a good Festival of Life. As is tradition you youngsters have a chance to ask you elders a question or two. And I will even answer them even if it means I will have to kill you for possessing forbidden knowledge.”

Raisa closed her mouth and hid her grin even as she polished one of her two prominent tusks. “So children, what do you wish to know on this first day of the Festival of Life?”

Oceo braced himself, “Why do we have to eat that?” he asked indicated the bowl sitting in the middle of the table with a look of disgust.

“Because the gods and tradition say that only vegetables may be eaten during the six days of the festival.”

“Yes but... Turnips! Why aren’t we eating elf or runner like last year,” insisted Oceo,

“Because Councillor Drappad didn’t foresee the loss of Refuge.”

“What is the story behind that?” asked Laor.

“Well now... How far back do you want me to go? Refuge was founded in the fifth year of the Matriarch Hessuna the Tyrant, so three hundred and two years ago. It was founded by a band of refugees fleeing the conquests of Feldane Redsword when he united the five clans and founded the Centaur Khanate.

“When they got to the River Silvanne they discovered the army of the City States Federation. The few who had riches bought their way into one of the cities as citizens. The others found that the Federation would take them in, but only as serfs, bound to the land. A situation worse than the one they fled.

“The elves rejected them too, quite rightly for not being elves. So they returned to where they had found a small rise that caused the River Blue to bend round it protecting it on three sides.

“They raided the elven forest for wood and built a palisade enclosing most of the rise and built their homes on land nominally claimed by the centaurs, The cultivated fields between the Blue, the Silvanne and the forest and fished in the river.

“For a hundred years or so they prospered and grew by welcoming other fugitives from the Federation and the Khanate. Then a city Lord sinned and got himself exiled from the Federation. He and his followers were chased relentlessly until they left the lands of the Federation. The council that governed Refuge agreed to take them in.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“That Lord’s second son seized power in Refuge and started fortifying it. It was either under him or his son that Refuge started raiding its neighbours. That and they allowed the followers of Villitus the Assassin to settle and set up a temple.

“In the tenth year of the Matriarch Fissa Blooddrinker, fifty-two years ago, Ragheel the Great Troll settled in Refuge and set up his provisions emporium. Ragheel II had an exclusive contract with Councillor Drappad to supply us with elven vegetables, and the occasional horsetail.

“So last year the Khanate and Aldrya finally mustered up the forces and magic they needed to overcome the fortifications that for so long had protected Refuge.”

By now the youngsters had overcome their shyness and were listening attentively. Raisa speared a turnip and dropped it into her mouth. “Eat.”

Reluctantly the youngsters did so. Then Mthr the youngest of them looked up and asked, “What ranks do the outsiders have and do they follow the gods?”

“All right minded folk follow the gods, even the food like the elves and dwarves. Then you have the ones who worship the ancestors and spirits. Finally there are the heretics who deny the gods and worship magic itself.

“So, first, Those like us who worship the gods. They are divided in four tiers of power. The least are the unambitious who live day to day and acknowledge the gods. Then you have the initiates. These are the people who select one of the gods to worship and can sacrifice power to their chosen god for a one use of one of their gods chosen divine spells. Just like you will be when you reach fourteen years and become initiates of Kyareetor our lady of Darkness.”

Raisa mostly filled a mug with a foul smelling brew then topped it off from a beaker of weak sulphuric acid. She downed the toxic mix with satisfaction before continuing with her explanation.

“Then you have Dark Lords and Ladies and the Dark Priests. The Champions and Priests. When a Lord or Priest sacrifices power for a spell he or she only needs to pray at a shrine or temple to regain the use of it.

“Oh, and there are almost as many terms for the position as there are gods. The technical term is Rune Lord and Rune Priest. But you will find Storm Lords and Storm Khans. Light Priests or Forest Priests. You will learn by experience.

“Then there are the very rare Heroes. Individuals who have defeated the three who spin, weave and snip the threads of our fates. Heroes are on the path to become gods and are unaging and undying. Oh don’t get me wrong, they can be killed so aren’t immortal but... It generally takes another hero or a god to defeat a Hero.

“And no, I am not a Hero, nor am I close to being one.”

Raisa looked round at her attentive audience. “Second, there are the ancestor worshipers or Shamans. A Shaman could be fairly considered to be roughly equal in power to a Rune Priest. Their apprentices are the equivalent of an initiate.

“And they are acceptable. You will find a very few Shamans amongst us Trolls.”

Raisa grimaced, “I know very little about the Heretics, they live far to the west. It is said that they deny the gods or that they claim that there is only one god. Don’t trust them. Kill them.”

Raisa refilled her mug and sipped.

Silla glanced at the boys, but they avoided her eyes. Sighing softly in resignation at being once again nominated as group spokeswoman she asked. “What about Riddlers?”

Raisa shot her a quelling look. Silla froze and stared back. Raisa smiled very reluctantly even as she reached out and landed a thundering slap to the young girl’s ear. Silla rose from the floor, and refusing to rub her sore ear, resumed her seat and resumed staring at the irritated matriarch.

Raisa reluctantly acknowledged the girl’s courage even if not her good sense.

“Riddlers are the spawn of chaos. They use their strange riddles to change the way sensible people think. Their riddles are somehow related to skills and abilities. And the better you are at something the more vulnerable you are. Thankfully Riddlers only know one or two of their obscene riddles.

“Someone who has intuited the answer to these riddles has a chance of having the way they think changed. They gain the ability to lie and hide their thoughts from the gods. And worse, they believe change is good!

“So when a Riddler is found everyone tries to kill him or her. It’s a matter of survival. Of sanity.

“Most folk killed for being Riddlers are innocent. But it is better to kill the innocent than allow a Riddler to live. So don’t for the love of our dark lady go round making up silly riddles if you don’t want to end up dead. Now eat! Then go!”