Zoe Silversmith:
Zoe remained still as the man looked over her inventory. Weapons of every imaginable construction and enchantment, bows, swords, axes and staffs lined the perimeter of the make shift Armoury. After several minutes he turned, looked the girl up and down, paused for a moment longer, then spoke:
"I hear you're the smith?" he asked already knowing the answer. Tales of Zoe's modifications had spread across the alliance. Her abilities unmatched throughout the realms of Balor. Silently she nodded.
"Now where did a child like you learn a skill such as this?", he slowly picked up a colossal axe containing the inscription ""Chaos is a GOOD friend of mine..."".
"My father", she replied coldly, reflecting on the hours spent as a young girl, helping him, billowing the furnace, the heat, the smell of coal, the blinding light cast from molten metal in darkened rooms. A distant memory… from world now changed.
She was thirteen when she first heard rumours of creatures in the countryside. Within a year Layar was in chaos. Urgently her father made arrangements to move them both to the Vale, Capital of Irum, and it's supposed safety. There they started a new life, smithing for the never-ending flow of mercenaries the region was renowned for. The hand of Shadow effects many things however, and its grip, relentless. Their first encounter with the agents of shadow proved to be her father's last. The attack on the Vale came without warning. Two giant beasts, more dog then man entered their home with a ferocity she'd never known. Her father was slain instantly as she watched from a small room upstairs... hiding… scared… alone. The smith had been killed in a room containing the finest weapons and armour in Irum, unable to wield the art he created. This irony of was not lost on Zoe. While the encounter lasted only moments, she imprinted their image in her mind, the godless eyes, coarse fur and chiselled teeth would never leave her thoughts for long.
When she emerged from the room, reborn, she made three promises to her father's lifeless body:
1) The Silversmith's legacy and skills would live on through her
2) She would learn to use her creations, avoiding the fate he had suffered and
3) To seek vengeance on the monsters who had destroyed everything she held dear
After the attack, many from the Vale joined Gunther's now growing alliance having seen first-hand the danger Shadow posed. Quickly her talents in the art of smithing had been realised within the alliance, climbing ever higher through the ranks. Till now she stood, gazing on the man himself, wondering when her time for vengeance would come.