Drun of Saxwyn's page

The mountains of Thgol’d’rak is an inhospitable land of cold peaks, deep crevasses and silent forests. Also known as Orc Hold, the land is the perfect homeland for the savage and barbaric clans of Orcs who inhabit the many vales, caves and peaks. Into this land the half-breed Drun was born.
Born of a raid on a small human village, Drun’s mother was taken as spoils and was passed around the tribe until she became pregnant. She died in childbirth, as most human woman do…they are not equipped to birth such robust offspring. And so, in blood and death was Drun brought forth into the world of pain, anger and confusion.
The discrimination began in the crèche where he was kept from the other young orcs. The pure bred would take the youths food, beat him and generally make his life miserable. For years he was the punching bag to these ‘superior’ orcs. It was not until he had turned 9 that he could finally fight back, and he was savagely beaten for it. It was a lesson the youth took to heart, and even though he grew to be stronger than most of the others in his age-group, he had learned to take the lashings and bullying without striking back. He became so stoic in the face of this discrimination that some of the clan’s shaman began to take an interest in the half-breed.
He was taken from the age-group he had been with since his birth and instead was forced to be on his own and at the beck and call of the shaman. He cleaned, hunted and fought only at the shaman’s command. He was tasked with watching the clan’s prisoners and watching during the “interrogation” sessions the unfortunate beings would find themselves in. He was also forced to work in the tanning pits; scraping and stretching the various skins the hunters brought back. With only the occasional thrashing, the young half-orc was left mostly to his own devices…and perhaps this was the start of his heretical thought.
Even before the prisoner was brought in, young Drun had began to question the ways of his people. The idea of ‘might makes right’ did not sit well with him. Much that was useful was squandered, much that was unnecessary was lauded, and throughout it all, the cruelty and hatred tainted everything and everyone. He had many questions, but no one to give him guidance, until HE came. The prisoner was in a group of surface dwellers who had attempted to destroy a neighboring clanholt. Like most other clans, his waited until the enemy had expended itself on their relatives before swooping in and capturing and killing the exhausted adventurers. In this group was one who even Drun could see was special. He was as wounded and dirty as any of the others, but unlike them he did not look defeated, but rather resigned to his fate. Many trips this warrior took to the workshops of the Shaman and after each secession Drun was commanded to keep him alive. It was during these times alone with the warrior that Drun began to feel how truly wrong what his people were doing. This warrior had done nothing to him or his clan, but they still took glee from his pain and suffering. It took Drun many days to realize that the warrior was speaking to him after each trip to the shaman. His orcish was very poor, and Drun’s common was not much better, but he started to listen to what the human had to say. He was telling Drun about his life and how he was chosen to become a solder of the goddess Saxwyn. Little by little the orc lad was drawn out to learn more of this man and his beliefs. It was almost a week before he noticed that the man was somehow healing himself. Drun did not know what to think of this, and finally ask the human why he was doing this. If he simply lets the wounds overwhelm him, he could join his Saxwyn in, what sounded like, a wonderful afterlife. The paladin, as he called himself, told Drun that he had a duty to teach those his goddess had marked as special, and Drun was one of those!
Shocked, the half-orc fled the cell and it was 2 days before he could return to seek out the warrior, but it was too late..he was dead. The grief and sadness took Drun by surprise and he sought out the body in hopes it had not been already butchered for the cook pot. He discovered the body in the larder, and before he could think too much about what he was doing, he took the body. He also discovered some of the human’s gear, a strange piece of clothing that looked like it went over his armor, and a small medallion with the same odd design as was on the cloth…. a red shield with a sword behind. He took these things, along with the body and fled the caves. He was stopped only once, and with the deception born from years of hiding his true feeling, he was able to bluff his way past the guards and into the mountains. For 2 days he hiked eastward, until he felt a strange pull that brought him to a sheltered alpine meadow covered with flowers. It was here that he created a cairn for the fallen warrior and used the odd scrap of cloth as a pennant to make the noble paladin’s resting place.