Thambo Diamalo

Thambo Diamalo was always small, even for a pygmy ulund. But size never mattered to Thambo. What mattered was standing beside his ulund brothers and sisters when it counted.

He clawed his way through the Chaos Empire's legions, proving himself in battle after battle. Not for glory, but for the ulund fighting beside him. To show that even the smallest among them could hold the line.

When Silus of the Rift ordered agents to disrupt the Conclave Arcana's search for Praetoria's secret, Thambo volunteered for the most dangerous assignment. Kill Oridum Graybrow in the Great Lowlands.

His commander frowned. "You're brave, Thambo, but this is suicide. We need you here."

Thambo shook his head. "The Conclave burns everything. If they find Praetoria's secret, the empire will burn with it."

He left with their blessing and marched alone into the Great Lowlands with nothing but his weapon and his purpose. He tracked Oridum for weeks, moving through scorched valleys and over boiling rivers. He watched the mage burn adversaries with casual gestures and turn stone to glass with a thought.

Thambo knew stealth wouldn't work. Oridum was surrounded by guards and protected by wards. So when he got close enough, he charged from cover, roaring.

Oridum turned. He looked annoyed as he raised a hand.

Fire erupted from the ground beneath Thambo's feet, burning and blistering his hide as it spread across his body. He kept charging.

Oridum raised both hands. More fire, hotter this time. The kind that melts armor and boils blood.

Thambo's entire body ignited. His weapon burst into flames and his hide cracked and smoked. The fire spread to those who tried to stop him, igniting their clothing, their hair, their flesh. His burning body became a weapon itself.

"Persistent," Oridum said, and gestured again.

The flames intensified. White-hot. Dragon-fire hot.

Thambo's legs gave out. He collapsed to his knees, still swinging his burning weapon, still roaring. His vision dimmed and his lungs filled with smoke. He died ten paces from Oridum Graybrow.

The guards and mercenaries who survived told the story. A pygmy ulund, alone and burning alive, who broke their line and died swinging. Word reached the ulund of the Chaos Empire, greater and pygmy alike. They remembered his name, remembered why he charged, remembered that size doesn't matter when the herd needs you.

Thambo proved it with every burning step.