Part 1:--------------------------------------------------------------------

Upon returning home, a cache of gleaming silver coins awaited me at the doorstep, shimmering like forgotten starlight. Despite the trials and tribulations of my journey, fortune had not forsaken me. A smile crept across my face, unbidden, as I scattered the coins upon the side table, each one a silent testament to my ancestors' enduring legacy, and it seems my ancestors is doing their raiding for me.

"15 STRONG SILVER COINS!" I gasped, the words catching in my throat as I beheld the unexpected treasure at my doorstep, each coin gleaming with tales untold.

Immediately, I summoned my clan to enjoy the wealth that I had found, or else it might not happen again.

Since I was the one sponsoring the celebration, I gave the speech.

"Brothers and sisters, our ancestors join us in our effort to revive our clan!" I shouted.

"This morning, I found these beauties!!"

I cast the bag of coins upon the table with a flourish, their metallic song echoing through the intimate chamber of the tavern like a chorus of whispered secrets. Some coins danced and tumbled across the wooden surface, catching the eyes of my siblings who eagerly snatched them up, each gleaming piece a promise of unexpected fortune.

"Our chief, ancestors, and our mothers are raiding even in VALHALLA!"

The uproar of orcish shouts and fervent excitement spilled out from the confines of our private chamber.

I raised my shaman's medallion high, its ancient symbols catching the flickering light, and presented it to my siblings with solemn reverence. "These coins are proof," I declared, my voice resounding with certainty, "that our ancestors have chosen me as the next shaman."

"SOILGRABBER! WHO IS YOUR SHAMANNNN???!!!"

"GORGGGGGGGG!... GORG! ... GORG! ... GORG! ... GORG!" The band of orcs chanted in unison,

"AAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!......."

Barrels of mead and beer flowed into our chamber without end, a torrential tide that fueled our revelry. We drank like dwarves, laughter and boasting echoing off the walls, until our bellies were full and spirits high. Yet, as the night wore on, the excess took its toll, and many of us, myself included, found ourselves purging the beer from our bodies, a crude end to our joyous celebration.

In the euphoria of revelry, joy painted our faces as the mead flowed freely, spirits lifting with each cheer and chant of my name. Amidst the merriment, I raised my shaman's medallion once more, a symbol of our victory and the first spoils offered to the war gods.

Languidly nestled in the corner, a sly smile gracing my lips.

As morning's light crept through the chamber, I stirred reluctantly, feeling the weight of my hangover like a heavy cloak. Amidst the scattered remnants of revelry, I reached for my shaman's medallion, intending to offer prayers of both thanks and supplication to our ancestors and gods. But to my shock, my fingers found only empty pockets, the absence of the medallion sending a chill through my groggy mind.

"Hey! Hey! This is weird!" I said.

I shift my attention to other pockets, my hands frantically searching every inch of my body.

"No!... No!... No!" I chanted desperately, searching frantically all over the place, tossing everything aside in my quest. But to no avail. The two hulking orcs, brothers of the tavern's owner, seized me and dragged me outside, throwing me into the street. I was too stunned to decide whether to fight back or beg for more time. Sadly, I had no money left to ask for an extension.

"NOOOOO!!!!" I cried out in frustration.

Part 2:---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clutching the shaman's medallion against my chest, memories of Gorg and Persis weighed heavily on my heart, exacerbating the guilt gnawing at my conscience. Like a haunting echo from stealing the fairy's purse, a visceral discomfort churned within me, as if my stomach were filled with writhing worms devouring my resolve. In my past life, I abhorred theft and betrayal, yet now I found myself entangled in these very sins. The shadows of the alley offered no solace, their darkness unable to fully cloak my silhouette as I sought to purge the overwhelming guilt that threatened to consume me.

"This is for Mikay!" I muttered to myself as I wiped my drool from my lips. "This is for me to find my father, too." I steeled myself and glanced at my wolf as a signal to get out of the situation.

Empowered by the stealth granted by my wolf companion, I slipped away from the bustling tavern into the comforting embrace of darkness. With silent steps, I navigated unseen until I reached Persis' house, avoiding any inadvertent alarms. Inside, Persis sat solemnly at the table, sober and serene. Gently, I draped a blanket over his shoulders, pausing to gaze upon his peaceful form before quietly departing into the night.

"I know that when you learn of what I have done, you will surely denounce me. I had no choice. I'm sorry," I murmured softly, my words hanging heavy in the quiet air as I turned and walked away.

I ascended the stairs, my mind consumed with thoughts of acquiring the elusive mithril ores.

"Ohhhh! Why the long face, my friend?" A personified beauty greeted me as I enter to my room, her presence a graceful dance amidst the chill air that swept through the space, causing her fabric to sway like gentle crescents.

"Hed-Seier"

"Hmmmm! Which one?" Mikay replied, hopping down from the window with a mischievous grin.

"A'Yeel," I answered curtly.

"What about it?" Her response was typical, evasive like any other girl's when caught in something they didn't want to admit.

"Don't play dumb!" I retorted sharply, removing my headgear to meet her gaze directly, demanding a straight answer. I swore silently that if I heard any nonsense, I would return the medallion to Gorg without hesitation.

"Come on! He's just a friend!" Mikay exclaimed defensively, retrieving something from behind her back with a flourish that seemed almost magical. The size of the portrait she revealed made me skeptical; there was no way she could have concealed it behind her back, and yet there it was, undeniable before me.

"Look! I painted you!" Mikay proudly presented, holding the portrait out for me to see.

I took the portrait from her hand, marveling at her skill-it captured my eyes and jawline perfectly.

"Thank you! But please answer..." I began, but before I could finish, our lips unexpectedly met, her palm gently resting against my cheek before she pulled away.

"I want you to concentrate on the portrait," she said calmly.

I was so stunned that I froze in place, unable to process what had just happened.

"Hey! Are you still alive?" Mikay waved her hand in front of my face, trying to snap me out of my daze.

"Marriage!... Marriage!... Marriage!..." I muttered to myself, feeling my soul begin to leave my body in shock.

"Ouch!... Ouch!... Ouch!..." Suddenly, Mikay pinched my sides firmly to regain my attention.

"Focus on my painting, it's your Rihan that I used," Mikay urged, her frustration evident.

Even in her annoyance, she was incredibly endearing. I shook off my distraction and obeyed her instruction, fixing my gaze on the portrait. Suddenly, flashes of images and scenes flooded my mind.

Moonlight glinted off blood trails in the streets of Silver City, chaos unfolding around me. People scattered in fear, fleeing as if from a menace-yet I couldn't discern why. Confusion gripped me as I scanned my surroundings, unable to identify the reason for their terror or the races of those fleeing.

"Where am I," muttered.

I approached Persis's house and reached for the doorknob. Before turning it, I noticed something peculiar-it was a design ahead of its time, resembling what we now call modern design. This doorknob bore a striking similarity to...

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"HHHMMMMMMMM!!! aaaaahhHHH! Faster! Faster!"

No!!! No!!! I know this door! Not again!! Not again!!!

"Your so good, your so big!!!!!! HHHHMMMMM!!!"

"No! No! I can't go through this again! I don't want to!" My heart raced, my hands trembling with anxiety as the feeling built up inside me.

"Just shoot inside! I'm sure my husband can't tell who the real father is - it's you!!"

I stepped back in horror, my movements faltering under the flood of memories that rushed into my mind.

"HHHMmmmm AAAAHHHHHH"

"No! Nooo!" My fists clenched in anxiety, the fight-or-flight response surging within me. A blast of air burst through the door, shattering it to pieces, debris flying around and a chip of wood grazing my face, leaving a painful gash.

"Thuddd! Thuddd! Thuddd!" The oppressive force of the air pushed me to my knees, feeling foolish and powerless.

From the darkness beyond the destroyed door, a presence filled with hatred and power emerged. The dragging sounds echoed with each step of the being.

Under the moon's light, the figure emerged-a personification of destruction, its presence shaking the very earth beneath its feet.

"Gggggrrrrrrr!!!......"

A humanoid figure materialized from the darkness, as though the shadows themselves had taken form and were now bathed in the moon's glow.

Raising a fist as if clutching something in midair, the figure advanced slowly toward me, drawing nearer until it became apparent that what it held was not an object but a person. This individual had wings akin to an angel's, though without a crown hovering above.

Terrified, I gazed upon him, my face a mask of fear. From his feet to his face, I studied his form, and as I recognized his face, a realization dawned upon me...

"SMACK!" The sharp slap across my face jolted me back to awareness, my breath catching in a wheeze.

"WAKE UP!" Mikay's urgent voice pierced through my disorientation.

"I'm already awake, Mikay, please stop hitting me!" I shouted in protest, but she seized my collar and continued to slap me, using it to gain leverage.

Her worried expression as she looked into my eyes helped me regain my composure.

"Sorry..." I managed between breaths. "Sorry..."

"What did you see?" Mikay asked, concern etched on her face.

"Horror!" I answered.

"And?"

"destruction" I responded.

"Come on, give me some context here! I didn't spend two moons drawing Rihan from you onto my canvas for nothing!" Mikay exclaimed, clearly frustrated.

"A being of power will destroy this city," I said sadly.

"By whom!?" Mikay's discomfort mirrored my own.

"By me," I admitted, my face filled with concern.

"What?" Mikay froze, her expression incredulous.

"The scary guy who would destroy this city!" I replied, frustration creeping into my voice.

"Yeah, that's me. That's what I saw!" I raised my voice in frustration.

"You, a human? Will destroy the city?" Mikay calmed down, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Huh?" I was baffled by her response.

"Hahahahaha!" Mikay burst into laughter, collapsing on the floor.

"What's so funny?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

"Nah! Let's skip our bonding today! You need some sleep, brother," she managed to say between laughs.

Part 3:---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Not feeling confident about the auction and the agreement proceeding smoothly, especially with Persis's consistent disapproval of my ideas compared to Gorg's support, I recalled Grumbart.

I remembered Grumbart's frustrations with his research on mithril ore production. As I stooped down to pet Pen-pen, who looked at me with concern, I thought, "Let's rely on Grumbart this time."

I visited Grumbart in his forge and, like any other dwarves, I had to rouse him from his sober state. Just as I was about to speak, the clangs of metal jolted him awake.

"GGGRRRR!... Don't fucking touch my tools mother fucker" the dwarves grunted, "Leave!!!..." He added. "I will leave but so are your opportunity with the Mithril ore".

"Huh?" The dwarf seemed to need clarification. I walked over to the sober dwarf and squatted to meet his eye level.

"Mith... ril... I... have..." I emphasized each syllable, causing a gleam to appear in Grumbart's eyes. He quickly stood up, as if the alcohol had instantly left his body.

"Where? Let me see!" His voice demanded with excitement.

"I don't have," I said sternly, "yet."

"Then why are you disturbing me?" Grumbart protested.

"Because I need your cooperation to obtain it," I replied.

"Me?" Grumbart seemed to suddenly understand. "Ahhh," he adjusted his posture and sat in the nearest chair. "Have a seat. Are you targeting the auction?"

"The two ores," I responded seriously.

"It sounds like you're sure," the dwarf remarked, studying my expression closely.

"I made a deal with an elf noble. For now, all I can say is I have what he wants, and all he needs to do is win the Mithril ore for us," I explained.

Leaning towards him, I added in a hushed tone, "But this guy is not your typical elf noble. He's working with Orc thugs. Who knows if he'll hold up his end of the bargain."

"I assume you have a plan," Grumbart said, straightening his posture with a hint of discomfort, then stroking his beard as he waited for my proposal.

"Alright, so we need fake Mithril. I know you can do it because I've seen your treasures with Mithril metal here and there, and for some reason, you haven't hidden them from us," I stated.

"Well..." Grumbart paused, "I've tried to replicate the metal with cheaper ingredients, but all I can achieve is replicating its physical appearance, not its properties."

"Good enough, that's all I need," I affirmed.

"Why?" Grumbart asked, puzzled.

"Just trust me, okay?" I replied, seeking his trust.

With his nod, I finally had all the preparations I needed.

"Now, how will we deal with noble's thugs? From what I see in this situation, he won't hold back once he gets what he wants. I can't outrun orcs, and you certainly won't last two steps when things go south!" Grumbart pointed out.

Grumbart had a fair point. While I could probably outrun them alone, leaving him behind wasn't an option.

"Do you have any idea?" I asked Grumbart.

"Do you have money?" he countered.

"How much!?" I pressed.

"All of it!" Grumbart replied.

On the promised date, Grumbart and I stood in front of the underground auction. My dog discreetly roamed the vicinity. The surroundings were bustling with people in luxurious garments-fairies in rich green and yellow robes, light elves in green dresses with golden and brown accents scattered throughout.

There were dwarves adorned in the most luxurious accessories-rubies, gold, and gems-that made them look like walking statues of treasures. The auction facility was expansive, far livelier than the public auctions I had seen in the plaza. Seats were available for participants, a stark contrast to the plaza auctions guarded by angels, with a small stage and a single podium. Here, the participants included a mix of people.

Me and Grumbart stood on the sidewalk, exchanging opinions about everything happening at the auction.

"Are you looking for another deal with the people here?" A dignified voice startled us from behind.

Spooked because we hadn't sensed anyone approaching, we quickly spun around. Gun'Ter stood tall behind us.

Gun'Ter for some reason look at Grumbart first with discomfort in his face then return his gaze to me.

"Did you bring it?" Gun'Ter demanded, his voice carrying a tone of weariness, as though he were already done with the nonsense of his life.

"Can you feel it?" I challenged, spreading my coat to allow the medallion to catch the air.

"Show it to me," Gun'Ter demanded.

"Don't blame me if someone snatches it from my hand, okay?" I retorted sarcastically as I began to reveal it.

"No need, I can feel it. And if you deceive me, I'll forge arrows from your precious mithril and rain them upon you," he threatened sternly.

With that, he proceeded into the auction room. "Don't follow. Just watch as your ore finds its way into my hands. Find somewhere more discreet to observe," he ordered before disappearing into the crowd.

We followed Gun'Ter's instructions and found a better vantage point where we could see both the stage and where Gun'Ter sat, yet we remained distant enough to avoid recognition.

As the auction began, several items were presented first-feathers, crowns, and scepters-common items among angels. I felt skeptical about the authenticity of the host's claims.

Finally, the two mithril ores were brought onto the stage. Before the host could announce the starting price, a voice rang out.

"1000 strong silver coins!" shouted a wealthy dwarf bedecked not only in luxurious accessories around his neck and wrists, but also in a garment adorned with gold, silver, and gems.

The crowd murmured and some shouted in protest, accusing the dwarf of breaking the rules and being too greedy.

A hammer meant for bidding turned into a gavel, hammering down for attention.

"Order!... Order!... Order!..." The host's attempts to restore order were drowned out by participants escalating bids from calmly standing to shouting matches, voices raised to the point where even the guards struggled to maintain control.

Amidst the chaos, towering figures approached us. The thugs dragged us outside the auction house.

"We didn't do anything, we..." I began, but then I recognized the orc in the middle of the group.

He smirked. "Give us the medallion and go!"

"GUN'TER, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! YOU'RE A SHAMEFUL ELF! THE HED-SEIER SHOULD CUT ALL TIES WITH YOU!" Grumbart exclaimed angrily.

We tried to run in the opposite direction, but other thugs were already blocking our path. In every direction, two orcs stood ready to grab us and break every bone in our bodies.

"You want this?!" I shouted defiantly, raising the medallion.

"Hahaha! Thank you for making our work much easier!" the leader of the band sneered, followed by the laughter of the rest of the gang.

Then they began to close in on us.

With my free hand, I quickly drew my torch and lit it, holding the flame underneath the medallion. Everyone around us was shocked, except for Grumbart, who was too busy swinging his axe at anyone who tried to approach us.

Suddenly, an ore was thrown at our feet.

"Take that and give me the medallion!" Gun'Ter emerged suddenly from behind his thugs, demanding.

Grumbart quickly secured possession of the ore.

"Not enough, buddy! The agreement was for two ores!" I shouted back.

"Do you know how chaotic it is inside the auction house now?" Gun'Ter replied firmly, stepping closer to us while signaling his thugs to hold their ground.

"You want ore," he gritted his teeth, "I'll give you ore."

"The deal was for two!" I insisted.

"The deal is unfair! Do you know how much mithril there is in the city?" He looked at me as if trying to intimidate me with his gaze.

"Seven! Bloody SEVEN!" Gun'Ter shouted angrily.

I tried to intimidate him by swinging the torch with the medallion through the air. Gun'Ter stepped back, visibly surprised and concerned about the medallion. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes before shouting, "ALL OF YOU STAND BACK!"

"Boss, we can just grab the medallion. There are only two of them and many of us," the foolish leader protested.

"I SAID, STAND BACK!" Gun'Ter roared, asserting his authority over the group.

The thugs reluctantly followed the elf's order, standing back from us. Even the orc blocking our opposite path stepped aside to clear the way.

"You!" Gun'Ter pointed his finger at me. "Surrender the medallion to me, and my orcs won't harm you."

Despite my costume covering my face, I smiled confidently, sensing the shift in control of the situation.

"BRING... ANOTHER... MITHRIL... ORE... RIGHT... NOW!" I demanded, "OR THIS WILL BURN!" I proclaimed proudly, waving the torch closer to the medallion until the lace caught fire and the medallion dropped to the ground.

Everyone froze.

Grumbart moved to grab the medallion from the ground, but the elf's throwing knife was faster than Grumbart, wounding his hand in the process.

"RUNNNN!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

We bolted in the opposite direction. One of the orcs tried to grab Grumbart, but the dwarf hit the orc with his whole body, sending the orc stumbling to the ground.

"GET BACK MY ORE!" Gun'Ter ordered his thugs.

"MAUTIIIIIIIII!" Grumbart called out, summoning his hired bodyguard with my 15 strong silver coins.

Immediately, a silhouette of a warrior with tribal looks sprinted towards us, passing by as we heard the sounds of rumbling and orc grunting coming from behind.

I glanced behind to see who this mysterious guy Grumbart had hired was.

"Fuck you, Grumbart! You didn't tell me our guard was the win-streak fighter!"

"You didn't ask!" Grumbart exclaimed as we ran.

"I asked you, and all you said was 'associate!" I shouted in frustration.

"THEN ASK MORE!" Grumbart shouted back. "RUN NOW, TALK LATER!"

With one ore in our possession and Mauti fighting off the orcs, we finally secured the Mithril.