Shami

Shami Bloodstone was born during a thunderstorm, which the clan shamans insist was an omen. Of what, they refuse to clarify. Possibly “duck.” Daughter of the ever-enraged War Lord Akun—who is twice as muscular as any other orc male and considers smiling a punishable offense—Shami is, by all accounts, his most baffling child. While her siblings at least pretend to fear him, Shami greets each assassination attempt with the delighted expression of someone who’s just been handed a surprise cupcake. Poisoned arrows? “Ooo, sparkly!” Bribed rival assassins? “New friends!” Pit traps lined with spikes? “Weeeee!” Akun has tried everything short of asking politely. He claims he is cursed. The clan agrees—though they’re not entirely sure the curse is on him. Shami smiles in battle. Not a smirk. Not a grim grin. A radiant, sunshine-over-a-battlefield smile. She hums while dodging axes. She compliments enemy armor craftsmanship mid-swing. Once, she stopped a duel to point out a particularly pretty cloud shaped like a goat. The opponent was so confused she won by default. Some say she is moon-touched. Others say she was dropped on her head as a baby. Shami insists she simply doesn’t understand why everyone takes life so seriously. “If we’re all going to fight anyway,” she says cheerfully while parrying a spear, “we might as well enjoy the cardio!” She has never been seen frowning. Not when stabbed (she apologized for “being in the way”). Not when chased. Not even when Akun personally attempted to throttle her during a clan meeting. She laughed—actually laughed—and told him he had “excellent grip strength.” The Bloodstone Orc clan doesn’t fear Shami because she is cruel. They fear her because she is delighted. And nothing unsettles a battlefield quite like an orc who treats mortal combat as a festive community event.