In the vast, boundless expanse of the Northern Mountains in the Aerikesh Region lies Aerikesh Mountain, stretching far into the hazy grey clouds that engulf its upper reaches.

Deep within the mountain's shadow, where the snow never thaws because light cannot touch it, where the Snowlights dance and the Lunar Iceflower blooms, lies a small town nestled at the base of the mountain. This town borders the Forest of Snowlight and marks the beginning of the Dwarven Kingdom of Aerikesh.

Lanterns and banners hang from the buildings and stalls. Ropes strung high above the city streets are adorned with decorations of cloth and wood, creating a vibrant skyline above the bustling streets.

The people laugh and move throughout the town while vendors work hard, selling their wares to those passing by. The town, known as the Entrance to the Mountain and the Town of Adventure, has been celebrated far and wide. Many bards have sung countless tales of the adventurers who have passed through this place.

A lone statue stands in the village center, as if to stop and bless those who pass by. Some call this place the Town of Legends, others the place where legends are born. Carved deep into its base in large letters is the word "Podgrad," known to the locals as the Town of Heroes and Adventurers.

= Church of Aerikesh, Podgrad / Main Hall (Dusk) =

"Silence!" a loud, coarse, emotionless yell rang out.

The children in the pews quickly quieted down. None wished to face the punishments of the orphanage's Director if they did not listen to Bishop Kur Stunphist.

Standing at the far back of the hall, directly in front of the pedestal, was the dwarven man with the commanding voice. He was no more than four feet tall, no taller than the children seated before him. His attire was unique, with a flat-topped hat that came down to a wedge meeting his ears. His beard hung to the floor, disappearing between his legs as he walked back and forth in front of the children.

"Tomorrow is the Festival of Snow Lights, the beginning of the rest of your lives. Tomorrow, you become adults in the eyes of Aerikesh and will receive a blessing from the gods before you are sent off into the world." His words were emotionless, but his face betrayed him. He had seen some of these children grow up from babes, and others he had known only for a moment.

"You have all grown well, far beyond what I thought possible. Some of you may want to stay in Podgrad, and that is your choice. But I implore you to broaden your horizons and live out your adventure before you are unable to have one." His voice was solemn and unwavering.

Bishop Kur turned to face the children. "It has been almost 200 years since the defeat of the Demon Lord. You would do well to enjoy the peace that your ancestors and parents died for. Now, Director Kester will take you home." Bishop Kur nodded to Director Kester.

"Okay, children, time for us to go back to the orphanage. Thank Bishop Kur for the prayer," Director Kester said, his voice calming like a summer breeze. He opened the door to the church as the 15 children lined up, a diverse group from humans to kobolds, including niikos and a multitude of beastmen.

"Thank you, Bishop Kur," the children chorused, each bowing to the bishop before exiting the church. "I'll bring them at sunrise tomorrow," said Director Kester, bowing to the bishop. "Be sure that you do. The gods wait on no mortals," the bishop replied with a smile as the director exited the church, closing the door behind him.

"Let's go, everyone. It's getting late. Let's hurry on back," said Director Kester as they disappeared onto the snowy path, into the bustling town of Podgrad.

= Orphanage, Podgrad / Dining Hall (Evening) =

Director Kester moved around the long dining table, a large, deep metal pot nestled between his side and arm. In his right hand was a large ladle, which he used to scoop soup into each child's bowl.

Director Kester was a nondescript human, standing roughly five feet tall. His hair was unkempt, his attire untidy, and his face hidden behind years that showed in the length of his beard and hair. This ragged man, wearing simple clothes and garb not much different from the children's, stood out only because of the clickety-clack of his shoes tapping on the hard wooden floor.

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"Eat up. The candle won't last long. The days have grown shorter, but our wax has not grown longer," Director Kester said with a sigh, looking at each child as he served the last bowl of soup from the pot into his own bowl. He set the pot back into the hearth and sat at the head of the table. The children began devouring the morsels before them as soon as the director sat down.

"Ire, what have I told you about licking from the bowl?" Director Kester's stern words and expression traveled down the table. "Sorry, Director Kester," a young beastman said.

Ire, the Mustelidae beastman, stood taller than 2 feet 7 inches. His ferret-like features were prominent, and his large bushy tail extended behind him. Ire's clothes weren't much different from the director's or any of the other children's. "I forgot," young Ire said apologetically.

"I understand, but you're about to be an adult soon. Do you think people will let you eat with them like that?" Director Kester's tone was understanding but firm.

"If they even let him inside to eat," a human boy retorted, causing the niikos and kobolds to burst into laughter. "Eric!" the director exclaimed. "Apologize now," said the human boy next to Eric. "No," Eric said quickly. But his body wasn't quick enough; as he finished the word "no," the boy next to him elbowed him in the face, knocking him out cold.

In the same moment, the director reached across the table, and the candles went out. The sounds of screaming, crying, and flesh hitting flesh filled the room. It lasted only a moment, but a moment was all that was needed as the words "Ignis Lucerna" echoed out from the darkness.

The candle at the table instantly relit. Eric lay on the floor, out cold, and the boy who had punched him was beside him, his face battered and bruised. "You think violence is the answer? What happens when the answer is directed at you?" the director loomed over the boy, staring down at him. The tension in the air kept the other children from moving.

"But he..." the boy who hit Eric began, but was quickly cut off. "Violence is not the answer. Words can only hurt you if magic empowers them. Did his words contain magic?" the director asked pointedly. "No, but..." the boy tried again, his words shattered by the director's bellowing voice. "There are no 'buts' in life. Violence begets violence, words become means," the director spoke with authority, his years of life weighing heavily in his voice.

The boy on the ground looked down, fear enveloping his eyes. He quickly kowtowed, bowing his head deeply to the ground. "I'm sor..." he began, but before he could finish, a swift kick to his head flipped him onto his back. The fear in his eyes deepened as he stared up at the director.

"There is no sorry after violence," the director said coldly, delivering a hard stomp to the boy's stomach. "There are only consequences," he concluded, lifting his leg off the boy. "Ire, help James to bed. He isn't hungry anymore," Director Kester said coldly, turning away from James and looking down at Eric. "Saria, come here and take Eric to bed as well."

"Yes, Director," both Saria and Ire responded, jumping down from their seats to carry out their tasks. Saria, a Cervidae beastman, stood just under 3 feet tall, her deer-like features prominent as she quickly helped Eric up. Eric, almost 3 feet taller than her, leaned heavily on her.

"Wha..." Eric started to say in a daze. "Don't say anything, just get up," Saria whispered urgently. "Get off me," Eric pushed Saria away. "Go to your room now, before you won't be able to," the director's murderous voice commanded from the head of the table, causing Eric to freeze and quickly shut his mouth, leaning on Saria. Ire followed right behind, dragging James by his collar as they all left the room.

= Orphanage, Podgrad / Dormitory [Underground Cellar] (Evening) =

Eric slowly stumbled into the room, leaning heavily on Saria. As he moved to his bed, he looked toward Ire and James. "Is he okay?" Eric asked fearfully. "No, the director hurt him pretty bad this time," Ire replied, jumping onto James's bed and pulling him up onto it. "Will he be okay?" Eric asked timidly, sitting on his bed and peering over at James as Ire got him completely in bed. "I... I... I don't know," Ire said as Saria sat down next to Eric on his bed.

"I'm sure he will be fine," Saria said, looking over at Ire helping James.

A groan slowly turned into a moan. "I'm fine, now go to sleep," James said as Ire pulled the covers over him. "You say that, but if you saw how you looked," Ire began to say. "Shut up and go to sleep," James cut him off, staring up at the ceiling.

"This won't happen ever again," James said, staring up as Ire came into his line of sight. "Yeah, I won't have to drag you into bed after you get beat up again," Ire laughed, causing Saria and Eric to laugh too, followed by the rest of the orphans bursting into giggles.

James started to laugh but winced. "Go to sleep and shut up. I can't take another beating." The laughter ceased, replaced by a somber reminder of the consequences. "Let's get to sleep, everyone," Ire said, looking around the room before jumping down off James's bed onto the floor. "I agree, we can escape this place tomorrow," Saria said, standing on Eric's bed and hopping off, jumping between beds to reach hers.

"Show off," Eric muttered, watching Saria prance to her bed. Slowly, he turned his head back toward James. "You going to be okay?" Eric whispered as he tucked himself into bed.

"Go to sleep," James replied, staring at the ceiling. His ribs hurt so badly he could cry, his head pounded maddeningly, yet he just stared at the ceiling, asking himself the same question. As the pain slowly began to fade with his consciousness, his eyes heavy like rocks rolling down a hill, he drifted off to sleep. One by one, the other children did the same, as the night continued on.