WonderedBug's Lore

Long ago in what was known as the Sterling Crownlands, back when the dark cloak of Afton protected the lands, there lived an unassuming family of half-dwarves in a small cottage. They were a simple folk, living off the land and plying their trade of herding sheep and prospecting minerals from the nearby mountainside. They lived deep in the forests, alone, life was content as the head of the house prayed daily to Afton and the other Noxist gods for aid. Yet these prayers would soon turn into dust, a great wind was rising from the East. Not even the Noxist gods could stem the tide of Werewolves that soon came to prey upon the outlying settlements…One morning the family took their weekly trip to the town market to buy food yet there were less vendors than there were the previous week, an old man sat in a corner shivering. Something was horribly wrong, yet the family did nothing and came back to the cottage with naught but a loaf of bread. O how little did they now

Twas late at night when they came, the warmth of the fireplace burning bright. The household divided on whether or not to abandon the Crownlands for good or whether to stay on their humble plot and ride through this mysterious curse. As he always did, the head of the house prayed to Afton for his blessings and guidance, yet nothing came of it. Soon enough, whatever ill fate befell the village would come for the cottage yet, isolation did them no favours, the hearth fire roared in the background while the household bickered on the fate of the homestead…In the darkness a shadow crept, rapping on the windows, all grew silent as the flame dimmed. It was time to make their move, “should we stay in this accursed land or should we flee to the warm lands of the South”? The  Door rattled and scratched, in a sudden flurry the door shattered onto the earthen floor.

It stood, fangs and teeth gnashing, claws outstretched. The dwarves huddled in front of the fire, timid and afraid, in a flash the youngest of the clan brandished a piece of hot iron from the hearth, shoving it in the face of the beast in a moment of fear. Hurling from the injury, the creature recoiled, buying time for the small clan to escape into the woods, to the meager canoes that were positioned at the shore. Looking back at the lost cabin, the young halfbreed who would later be known as “Bug”, pondered upon the fate of his people. Where would we go? Who would take us in? How will we survive in this world? Little did these smallfolk knew, all would be decided in the following months…

The voyage South was marred by the waves and harsh conditions of the open seas, dwarves, even halfbreed ones, not normally being accustomed to the life on the waves suffered greatly during this exodus. It was in this moment that a band of Sea Wolves, brigands that prowled the waters South and beyond, set their sights on this humble canoe. The sight of the longboat, baring the flag of the Jolly Roger, sent shivers through these refugees. Even worse was the crewe, a motley assortment of orcs, humans and elves all armed to the teeth. It was time to collect, the Captain brandished his sabre at the oldest in the group, motioning over to a meager chest. No words were spoken, both understood the situation. Pay up and live to fight another day, or resist and be annihilated. From the back of the boat the young Bug watched as his grandfather gave the chest to the captain, a tear in his eye as the last gold from home was gone. Yet in the distance, the sight of three more longships over the Horizon, the blaring of a conch signaled the beginning and the end of this encounter.

From the canoe, the Captain shook with fear from the blast of the conch. He was spotted, the Huitcan Navy had arrived to meat justice in their waters, atlatl at the ready they were ready to engage the enemy. The Captain drew his blade in the direction of the East to make the retreat, in the ensuing chaos the young Bug made his move. Concealing a dirk on his boot, the youth stuck his blade into the neck of the Captain, taking advantage of the chaos caused the by arrival of the Huitcan navy. With spears hurling at the ship on all sides, the Pirates responded in turn with shots of crossbow and cannon alike, unaware of their dying Captain bleeding his last onto the boat. Yet soon this scalawag was not ready to meet the One Eyed Kraken, in turn he would take with him, running the old dwarf through as his vision turned black. Darkness awaited both captain and patriarch alike, Young Bug saw his first death, the first of many, along with that of his first kill. Swallowing his despair, he brandished his dirk yet again and entered the fray. The Huitcan Navy had just boarded the Longship, now marching with Macuahuitl against the disoriented and leaderless crewe, felling them with ease. Yet what caught the eye of the Huitcan Captain was a small white haired youth holding a bloody blade, from the expression and demeanor on his face the Captain could tell he wasn’t with the brigand. Seeing potential in this youngling, the Captain raised an arm inviting the youth. Looking back on the vessel, his family huddled around the corpse of his grandfather, sobbing. The battle was won, but at what cost? The young Bug took the Captain’s arm, the two acknowledging respect for one another, the Captain’s act sparing them all from destitution and the youngster for showing bravery in the face of doom. Yet today would forever be marred that his family had lost their heart, and today would not be the parting of one but two of the clan.

Seeing as there was nothing left for his people by themselves, the new patriarch of the Bug Clan accepted the Captain’s offer to let their youngest join the strangers who saved them. The Captain noticed a spark in him that caught his eye, yet before they could reach the safety of the city of Tlahatl it was also time to bid farewell to the old man. As the canoe was emptied of both occupants and supplies, the Captain ordered the boat covered in pitch, with the light of an arrow glowing in the dusk, the canoe burst into flames. The journey back was somber, yet the Captain looked back at his young charge. Fixing a badge on the child, he patted him on the shoulder. From then on, the Young Bug trained to become a shadow of Huitca, an assassin willing to serve his Nation from the shadows, killing those who would threaten the Nation from within and without. As Promised.