"When I lost my hand, I drank myself into depression and eventually died in a hit-and-run. My {Fate} is called {Son of the Forge}. In exchange for being cursed to look like a dwarf, my ability to create blades has improved immensely."
"Addison, are you by any chance from the North?" I asked reflexively.
"I don't think so, my lord. But I never knew my parents, so I wouldn't know. I was raised by my grandfather in the boonies."
Except for the Sirens and my squad of misfits. This was perhaps the only time I learned of the {Fates} of my people.
At first I wanted to call Cynthia a stupid moron for dying just because of a test. But wasn't I the same? Even though I died to save Jas, my actions were extremely stupid to most people.
Addison, on the other hand, died in an accident. That is, until you connect it to the man who drank himself into depression. He must have died crossing the street drunk or something.