Realm of Monsters

The Cinder Brood tribe, the second Sylvan tribe of Hollow Shade, was composed of orphans from the streets of the Commoner District. Most had lost their parents while very young, others were teenagers. All had lost their homes, their families. They were treated as pariahs even among other commoners. There was some solace in the temples, where food and shelter were offered, but the poorly funded temples of the Commoner District had little to give and could only support a few children at a time.

The orphans had been forced to grow up quickly, searching for scraps wherever they could. Many had been picked off by the undead sentinels roaming the streets at night. Others had been pressed into gangs, while the unluckiest had been captured and taken as slaves by thieves and poachers.

Orphans in Hollow Shade understood their lot in life. They understood the ugly truth of the city. Many people thought the city was the capital of the Ebon Realm’s commerce and the home of wealth and ancient magics, but the orphans knew this place was dangerous, every day they were fighting for their lives with no one to rely on, even each other.

So it came as a surprise, when one particular old temple in the south-west side of the district, began to offer shelter for any orphan who needed it. It did not matter how old they were or how many came. The head priest Elm and his right-hand priestess Karen, welcomed them with open arms.

Dozens of bunk beds, clean blankets, and enough wood to feed the fires all night long. Various sorts of freshly bought food and warm meals, not just once, or even twice, but thrice a day. The children couldn’t remember the last time they had full bellies.

The other temples couldn’t understand where all the funding was coming from, certainly not from the city, the lords only cared about the large and extravagant temples in the wealthier districts. They especially wouldn’t care about a temple situated in a heavily populated goblin and human neighborhood. Yet the temple’s funding only seemed to keep increasing as the months passed by.

At first, the orphans were skeptical, surely there was some sort of trick. The temple must have had a nefarious plot, perhaps they were selling children to slavers without none the wiser?

But as the days went on and the temple’s cook Witt kept bringing them food, the orphans slowly began to realize the truth. They weren’t going to be kicked out, they weren’t going to be tricked, no one was going to hurt them.

Slowly, the orphans looked at each other and they did not see competitors for scraps. They saw in each other what few dared hope for, what many never believed possible, a family.