Mazon Blacksun's page

On a snowy evening, a girl wrapped in rags came staggering into a monastery of Irori, her belly heavy with child. This was not too uncommon an event, except for one fact; when the Monks peeled back the frozen rags, they discovered the girl was a battered, but undeniable pure-blooded Orc. While there were some who advocated killing the monster before it could sneak off and lead its tribe to the monastery, the monastery elders chose the path of self-control -- as always.

That same night, the Orc's whelps fell out of her womb, stillborn. Even an Orc's strength had not been a match for the trauma the female had suffered. Healers attended to her, regardless their misgivings, and the female survived, at least. When she came to, she was grudgingly appreciative and answered some questions.

Her name was Mazon. She had been daughter to the chief of a small tribe, distantly related to the Black Sun tribe of Belkzen. Her father (and by extension, the rest of his tribe) had proudly claimed true descent from the legendary King Belkzen many times -- and a little too loudly. Other tribes had taken offence and had responded in typical Orc fashion. Mazon had been dragged off by one of the warriors who swept in and hammered her tribe into submission, and had suffered the fate usually reserved for captive females.

So far, everything had been normal -- for Orcs. What followed had been exceptional. While her new owner slept, Mazon took a sharp stone and drove it into his throat. While the warrior bellowed and staggered about, drawing the attention and the cruel amusement of his tribemates, Mazon had fled into the badlands. By the time she found the monastery, she had been starving and exhausted. She had not wanted to seek out other Orcs for fear of being enslaved again, and on the few occasions she dared approach other creatures, she had been met with thrown rocks or crossbow bolts.

Mazon bore the news of her offspring's death with Orc stoicism. She grew angry when she heard that the Monks had no intention of letting her go, on the off chance that she was actually a scout for an Orc horde, but tolerated it because she was still weak. As days passed and Mazon grew stronger, she started plotting her escape. Weapons were kept well away from her, but she had no doubt that her native strength was superior to that of the thin, stringy humans who surrounded her. One night, when spring was in the air, the Orcmaid put her plan, such as it was, into action: she rushed the main gate and tried to bat the guards out of her way. To her shock and amazement, she found herself flipped and pinned by a human girl half her size, and held with contemptuous ease.

Mazon was disciplined. She tolerated this. When the Monks put her to work doing heavy labour as part of an experiment to see whether an Orc could be tamed, she tolerated that as well; Orc culture states that the strong dominate the weak, and she was coming to see that the Monks were somehow stronger than she was. While she worked by day, she watched the humans doing their odd exercises and slowly forced herself to acclimatize to the hideous light of day. At night, she tried to duplicate the moves she had seen the novices perform under the eye of the elder Monks.

Inevitably, one of the elders found out. Mazon was disciplined for overstepping her bounds, but persevered. She was disciplined again, but persevered. Finally, the elders had the disobedient creature dragged before them and demanded why she was trying to steal their secrets. The way of the Monk as not the way of the Orc. Mazon had to struggle to find the words, but she finally told the masters that as an Orc, she had worshipped strength. What the Monks had, had proven to be better than Orc strength, and so she wanted what they had -- so that she would become 'better'. When the masters asked her upon whom she wished to improve, Mazon could only say she wanted to be better than she was. The Monks took this for a desire at self-improvement and agreed to teach her, on one condition: any future disobedience on her part would be punished with death. Mazon agreed; such strict terms were familiar to her and she could accept them.

Mazon was not popular with her tutors or her fellow students. This did not concern her. Her tutors treated her harshly, beating the discipline into her and setting excruciatingly high standards for her to live up to. This did not concern her, either. Every improvement she made was a victory she had wrested from the bedrock of her own nature. Every discipline she mastered was a weakness she had defeated. A time came when Mazon grudgingly started to accept the monastery as home; she lived for her training, craving nothing but the total victory of all her weakness.

The attack on the monastery was sudden and devastating. A well-organized band of Hobgoblins rappelled down inside the monastery walls under the cover of darkness, and slaughtered a lot of the novices in their sleep. By the time the alarm was sounded, the infiltrators had already unbarred the main gates, allowing the rest of their company to sweep in and engage the surviving Monks. Mazon fought as hard as she could and slew some of the Hobgoblins, but had to flee before the threat of their archers. To this day, she does not know whether any of the other Monks survived; her shame and anger at what she perceives as cowardice prevent her from returning.

Mazon eventually wound up in Kassen. She felt decidedly unwelcome there at first, and that is exactly why she stayed; to harden her body, mind and soul against all the slings and arrows that fate could throw at her. She hired herself out as a caravan guard when such groups passed through Kassen, but to the villagers' disappointment she always came back when the work was completed to her customers' satisfaction. The surly Orcmaid invested most of her earnings in a little cottage set just outside of town limits. Over time, as Mazon has failed to rob people or eat their children and livestock, she has earned some grudging acceptance. The invitation to the coming-of-age ceremony is something she considers a triumph over her ancestry.

Mazon has abandoned the gods of her youth, the chaotic and evil deities worshipped by Orc Adepts and Shamans. At the monastery, she learned of Irori, the Master of Masters, who achieved divinity through personal perfection. To her, he is an example.

The Monks also spoke of Qi Zhong, the Tien god of magic, who taught mortals of the elements and their importance to all things, including martial arts. Mazon appreciates the idea that magic and martial art are connected; magic is impressive, after all.

Finally, Mazon has heard of Milani during her efforts to grow stronger through overcoming challenges. Although the goddess is chaotic and strives mostly to overthrow tyranny and not for any kind of exaltation, Mazon is very impressed with her. "Always fighting strong enemies," is how she described Milani if anyone ever asks. Another example to live up to, in Mazon's opinion.