Santa Fae might have been the greatest achievement of the dwarves as far as the other races were concerned, but among them, it was the private residence of Las Minas they were most proud of. Smaller in size, perhaps, but it was theirs and theirs alone; carved from the very rock inside the biggest mountain of the range that cast a shadow over the great metropolis. No dwarf in that mountain lived in anything less than a grand manor, many even built theirs on the outside, making the place look like the wealthy version of a shanty town.

The dwarves had chosen to build Santa Fae here because of these mountains and the rich mineral deposits they knew were there. So even as they built a great city for everyone else, they would keep this domain for themselves, which made them richer than even the elves; a fact they were never shy of reminding them, but to Orras that always felt like a small consolation.

Yes, they had gold and silver and every jewel under the earth. They had built a city of stone that even their ancestors would be proud of, and amassed the greatest wealth in their recorded history…but what was that compared to the gift of magic that the elves kept for themselves? Their craft may endure a thousand years or more, but they would not. 

Money may have been the real power in the time of the humans, but among the Fae, it was magic. That’s what allowed the elves to rule them all through their High Council, which made all their laws, and which they often enforced through it. They always said only they had the wisdom to wield it properly, acquired through the many centuries they lived because of it, something Orras was always quick to point out they could learn as well if given the opportunity.

Even the Elves’ proud “gift” to the city, the Royal Knights who protected them all, really only allowed elves to serve, and their main focus was not the protection of all citizens, but the areas which the High Borns occupied or deemed worthy. Orras’ father had predicted this, that’s why he had insisted they built their own haven apart because no one else would look after their interests.

But this was not enough for Orras, he wanted more, and when he dared to try to take some power for himself, they fell on him and forced his people to cast him out. Many dwarves sympathized with him, but if the peace was to be preserved, the elves would suffer no competition or threat, and so, before he could even process it, he lost it all. 

That is why he was here today, sitting frustrated with his two bodyguards in some secret cave in the deepest parts of Las Minas, where no one would hear their whispers, arguing with an elf who would not see reason. “It seems we have a problem, Liara,” grumbled Orras, impatiently.

“Your people caused the problem when they tried to shortchange us, Orras,” said Liara, leader of the houseless elves that had become Orras’ biggest clients, if also the most annoying ones at that.

The woman was cloaked in the trademark long hood and cape of her group, only black trimmed with gold instead of red to distinguish her as their leader. Her face, however, was hidden behind a matching mask of black metal with cracks of gold, emphasizing her nickname as Liara The Broken. No one knew who she was, but in the last few months, she had managed to gather many of the Houseless elves in the city under her and her crusade against the elves above them.

“We sent as many guns as we had,” said Orras. “These are not easy to move in the city, and frankly, I feel you have yet to put them to good use.”

“What we do with them is our business, we paid you fair for them.”

“My dear, I am less interested in your gold than I am in you using my guns against the High Borns you so claim to hate as well.”

“Of course we do!” said Liara angrily.

“Not enough!” Countered Orras. “Lately you and your lot seem more interested in petty squabbles with other street gangs, or worse yet, with my people, than you are in proper retaliation against them!”

“We are staking our claim to the streets so that every houseless elf knows to come to us, and if you dwarves like to pick a fight, that’s hardly our problem.”

“Your claim? Please! You are a group of riffraff criminals, just because you have the biggest numbers now doesn't make you more than a band of lowlifes looking for revenge!” Orras spoke savagely, but he knew it was best to be direct sometimes.

Liara however would not have it, and she rose from her chair to smash her hand against the wooden table that separated them. Even her two elf companions behind her shook in surprise at her rage. “Do not dare to speak down to us! We are The Shards! The pieces our people have cut off and discarded! You call us riffraff but what are you if not the same, Orras The Warlock? Cast out from your clan, forced to work for elves for gold so that you may feel that part you no longer have. At least we have a purpose beyond our hate.”

Orras felt the vein on his forehead about to erupt as his fury rose. No one spoke to him that way. No one. And at that moment he wondered if this deal was worth it, to sell out to elves, even those as exiled as him, for a taste of the revenge he so longed for. He could see Liara was as ready to unleash violence as he was, both their men reaching for their guns behind them.

Before they could unleash a hell of bullets, the room illuminated brightly, as every torch along the cave walls flickered to life with powerful flames at the same time. This was magic, but none of them could do that.

“By the dragons, you both buy into your own crap,” said the coarse voice, deep but undeniably a woman.

They all turned to the cave entrance, now revealing two figures standing there. The one who spoke was the largest, most intimidating elf woman Orras had ever seen. She was Polynesian by the looks of it, and easily over six feet tall and all muscle. She wore a long but loose type of red skirt and knee-high black leather boots, with a protective chest piece made of bone, marred only by some damage done on the right side bearing long scratch marks. The skull of a dragon adorned her shoulder, and the sharp golden hilt of a large broadsword was poking from behind her.

“Apologies for interrupting,” said a gentler voice, and Orras looked at her companion.

Next to that woman, anyone could disappear, but the man was also notable in his appearance. A black elf in a black leather coat with pulsing blue lines of light through it, matching the translucent visor on his face that showed him digital information. This was advanced human tech, the kind that had been outlawed and forgotten.

“I’m not apologizing,” said the woman, laughing it off.

“Who are these two?” asked Liara as they both approached them.

“The woman I’ve never seen, but him I know. You’re Mr. Tol, aren’t you? The dealer of human tech in the black market. He was the most wanted man before I took over.”

“We both provide means to an end, Mr. Warlock. Mine simply aren’t limited to just killing,” said Tol, reaching for something inside his coat and putting it on the table.

“That's human tech,” said Orras.

“Humans called it a smartphone,” said Tol simply. “They’re pretty rare now, being illegal and all, and also useless without a communication network; one I just happen to provide to all my clients. This newest one wants a word with you both.”

Tol pressed one of the tiny buttons on the device, and it rang for a few seconds before someone picked up. “Good evening.”

It was just two words, but they sent a chill down Orras’ spine. Something about that dark voice was deeply unsettling. “I was told you two were the most feared criminals in the city, or at least so far. That will soon change, but it doesn't have to mean you’re out of the picture. I think in the end, we all want the same thing here.”

“And what is that?” demanded Liara.

The voice on the phone made the tiniest sound, almost like a chuckle, but it was hard to tell. “We’ll get to that. For now, I do ask that you listen to what I have to say. I hired Mr. Tol and Taniwha here for their unique services, I’d like to enlist yours as well.”

“You track us down in the middle of our private meeting to muscle your way in with these two, and you expect us to just play along?” asked Orras, not amused in the least.

“Think of them as my…hands, extending to you in friendship.”

“And what if instead, we take those hands as a souvenir?”

“Then we’d have more in common than you’d think, but I don’t advise it.”

“And I advise you to hide in a hole deeper than this one after this. Boys,” said Orras, signaling his two bodyguards to attack. Both were strong dwarf warriors, old school, preferring their axes to guns. They both rushed towards the woman ready to chop her to pieces.

“Time to earn that gold,” said the Taniwha woman with delight as she reached for her sword.

“Try not to make a mess this time,” said Tol casually as he stepped back to give her room.

“I always do!” She swung her sword forward towards the two dwarves, even though they were still not within range, but instead, the entire blade lit up with a bright orange flame that shot forward towards them. In seconds they were engulfed in the fire, yelling in pain as the smell of burnt flesh filled the room.

Soon they were dead and the cave was dead silent except for the sound of the crisping bodies and the voice on the phone. “I take it from the sound of the roaring fire in the room that someone tried to attack Taniwha. That’s unfortunate.”

“How can she do magic like that?” demanded Orras, looking intently as the flames consumed the last of his men. “There’s no way in the nine hells that she’s a member of any of the seventy houses!”

“It’s another kind of magic, surely you of all people understand there’s more than one source in this big world of ours.” Orras frowned, what he had done was no secret, but he didnt expect it to be a common thing either. This woman was using a different source of magic than all the elves, and even what he had found.

“As her name suggests, she’s a true heir of the dragons, let’s leave it at that for now.”

“Very well, you’ve taken things this far, what is it you want?” asked Orras.

“Same thing you all do; I want things to be right again. I want all of us to get back what was taken or denied to us, and for the people who did it to pay dearly for it.”

Just then there was a loud “KRUNCH” sound from the phone, like something hard had cracked when it shouldn’t. 

“How do we know we can trust you, you could be...” Liara began to speak but stopped at the sound of that unnerving loud KRUNCH again. “What is that sound?”

“Oh that’s right, I have a gift for you all. Mr. Tol, if you would be so kind,” said the voice on the phone, and for the first time, there was a hint of amusement in it

Mr. Tol revealed he had been holding a small ornate box behind his back with his spare hand and placed it on the table between Orras and Liara. He unlocked it with a key and opened the lid to reveal…

“What is this?” asked Liara, sounding disgusted.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” asked Orras at the sight, inside was a hand with an emerald ring on it, clearly ripped off by force with part of the bone still showing.

“It’s merely a little souvenir I took with me last night from the head of House Thril here in the city. You will have to forgive me for keeping the rest of the arm, but…one does get hungry.” And there again was the loud KRUNCH again, and this time, Orras had a horrible feeling that he knew what it was that was breaking on the other side of the call. It was the sound of biting…and bone breaking.

“What are you?” asked Orras, it was simple enough, but he was not dealing with anything he knew.

“Nothing special,” replied the voice, dead and emotionless again. “I am just what’s left of a bad memory, one they buried deep into the earth.”

When no one else said anything, he continued uninterrupted. “I know you’re all angry, that’s what we share here, but you think too small. Attacking random Highborn elves on the streets might feel good for a little bit, but it accomplishes nothing…and fighting among yourselves, less so. What you need to do is send a message, just like I did last night.”

Orras looked up at Liara, and though he couldn't see her face through the mask, he could tell she shared his feelings here. They were both unnerved by this…creature, but there was something seductive in his words; a real chance for change and revenge they both wanted. Orras had cast his lot with worse odds in the past, he would not balk at the opportunity when it smiled at him, even if it meant dealing with other monsters.

“The Shards and I would be open to hearing your ideas,” said Liara.

“...I’ll play along for now, but I want to hear the rest of your plan,” said Orras, finally.

“Oh, it’s simple, I propose we bring this city some of the horrors they've made us feel until they call for Mother…then we can renegotiate the terms of our existence.” 

His voice showed just the tiniest trace of anger, which maybe he didnt realize, and that unnerved Orras, but implications of what he just said…if it was something they could truly pull off; if he meant what Orras thought he meant…that was something he could get behind.

"One last thing, what do we call you?" asked Orras.

"I will reveal myself to everyone soon enough, but since we all have a certain flair for the dramatic here, I decided on Deadbone as a name for myself. I think you'll find it fitting," he added with that same sound that resembled a chuckle, and Orras couldn't help but morbidly agree. "Now, Mr. Tol has the specifics of my plan and your parts to play in it. Be ready my friends, soon we get to break a few more of these,” and with a final deafening KRUNCH that made their skin crawl, Deadbone ended the call.

END PART ONE