This isn''t a story of heroes and villains.


    No grand battle of good versus evil.


    No righteous triumph against impossible odds.


    This is my story—Solari''s story—of a life shattered, reforged, and swallowed by the shadows.


    I never chose to be an orphan, nor did I ask to be raised in the dark underground world that I now call home.


    Fate, as it turns out, cares little for our desperate wishes.


    Instead, destiny had its own plans.


    I was raised by Dwarves.


    Tough, stubborn, unyielding Dwarves.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    King Tolgarn of Thoringard took me in—a strange, dark-skinned, red-eyed child with ears sharp enough to slice the wind. He raised me as his own. Among the Dwarves, I found family, safety, and purpose. Yet something deep inside always yearned for more.


    When I came of age, I left the enormous, echoing halls of Thoringard behind and stepped into the shadows—into the arms of the Dhaarmik Haath, known to most as the Shadow Hand.


    This isn''t your typical assassin''s guild.


    We don''t take every job that pays; instead, we deal in a peculiar kind of justice. We protect the vulnerable, silence the corrupt, and strike where others dare not.


    At least, that''s the noble version we tell ourselves.


    The truth is more complicated.


    The world is divided about who we are. Some call us saviors; others label us murderers wrapped in false justifications.


    I''ve long since stopped caring what they think.


    For me, this life is a job—a way to put food on the table and keep moving forward.


    And maybe, just maybe, it will lead me to the answers I''ve been seeking all my life.


    Who am I?


    Where do I come from?


    Who were my people?


    So far, I have no answers. Only the drive to keep searching.


    Now that you know the kind of man I am, let''s begin this story.


    Trust me, this is one adventure you won''t soon forget.