
by Krosch
Who is at fault for creating such a mess of a world? Kill a deity, and its curses linger. Overthrow the elite, and an equally corrupt one takes their place. Maybe the problem isn't bad rulers or angry deities—maybe it's the system itself. The machine that needs people to be small so it can run smoothly. Everyone thinks they know the truth. Vardek does too. Exiled from his home, he lands in the Pangarian Empire. The new place doesn't seem to appreciate his kind, and Vardek's attitude even less so. He's stuck here now. So he climbs. Fights. Keeps choosing between his ideals and his orders, his freedom and his rank, his conscience and his survival. Something will break. Him, probably.