Tale of Dirty Nancy Nancy was a simple Lower girl. She wasn't pretty, wasn't smart. Quiet, unassuming, and meek. Like most denizens of our pit, she scratched out a precarious and uncertain survival-- often starving herself, so that her little sister might eat. They weren't happy, and they weren't content, but they got by.

The Ubel Rebellion came and went- for a moment, glorious victory, followed by hellish defeat. Nancy did what she could to hide her sister, laying low from Dhogur's fury. They went unnoticed for days, but grew more and more desperate, running out of their meager supply of food.

Then one day, Nancy snapped.

Got up, starved daze in her eyes, and started walking. Walked and walked, until she stood right before Sheriff Dhogur himself. With nary a spoken word, she spat upon his face.

An attending guard immediately gored her, dropping the waifish and brittle girl. But she rose again, blood running red from her, and spat once more at Dhogur.

In a fury, Dhogur knocked her down, screaming profanities at her audacity. But bloody and beaten, she rose again. Once more, she spat in his face.

Dhogur raised his hand to strike again, but then he saw her eyes. Saw the desperation of Lower, the fury of Lower, the uncompromising will to fight. He saw that which he could not defeat, and he was afraid.

Sheriff Dhogur ran that day from a brittle peasant girl. A girl who would not relent, even in death. A girl who had nothing, but fought with everything. He ran from the true spirit of Lower, and he was shaken.

Nancy died that day, bleeding alone in the streets. But we will -never- forget her. We will fight, and we will bleed, so that her sacrifice is not in vain. We will not relent, and we will not stay down, because we are hers. We are the Dirty Nancies.

Nancy is not forgotten. The Nancies are not dead, whatever Ledskir would tell you.

Those of you with the spirit to live like Nancy lived, I imagine you know where you can find me these days.

-Leslie Ubel