MALEK
I’ve been told my mother was the camp whore. For a half-orc, apparently she was considered beautiful, and respected for the ways she could satisfy men. At that time the camp probably held over three hundred men and it was said she had known each of them - my father could have been any of the humans. I at least know that much – my father was human. The story I’ve been told is that I was born unceremoniously in a tent with only my mother present. After it was done and before an hour had passed, she had me wrapped up and placed in the hands of a stable boy. She gave him a couple of coppers to dispose of me. The boy passed me onto a passing trader, who dealt in copper pots and tobacco and the like. He was amused by the sight of a half-orc child, certain he could sell me in the city for a profit. He was the type that frequented establishments that delighted in abusing and demeaning our kind, training them to put on a good show for their patrons.
Fortunately, the merchant passed through a small, newly founded village called Livewell. He found a bed at Ulayn’s home. Ulayn, a blacksmith, had lost his wife and child while travelling to this cold northern land. Their ambitious party of thirty two persons, comprising seven families, had great hopes for this new territory. But the land was harsh and cold, the threat of orc marauders was high, and the trailblazers were naive. Ulayn had developed a cynicism that suited his guest fine. After a mug of ale, the trader offered to show Ulayn a most gruesome sight for only the cost of a copper. Intrigued, Ulayn put a copper on the table. They laughed when the trader revealed a half-orc babe. The merchant then clapped his hand over my mouth, and only removed it once I squirmed mightily and turned red.
A knock came at the door. It was Ethgar, a powerful but mild mannered woodsman. He announced he was there to pick up his ax which Ulayn had mended. When Ethgar entered, the trader offered him a deal also: for a copper he would pour a shot of ale down my throat. Ulayn knew Ethgar would not be amused but was too late to warn the trader. Ethgar put down a copper, but when Ulayn poured a drink Ethgar threw it against the wall, picked up me and his ax, and left. My life hasn’t been easy, but at that moment, it improved from what it most certainly would have become. Ethgar saved me.
Ethgar took me back to the cabin he shared with his wife Niaellis. He said that as soon as she saw me, Niaellis swept me up into her arms, held me close, and began singing a soft lullaby. And that’s how Ethgar and Niaellis became the only mother and father I have ever known. When most humans look at a half-orc with abhorrence, they raised me, protected me, and loved me for the next fourteen years. The townspeople could never understand their decision, and Ethgar and Niaellis suffered alongside me. There were times when they couldn’t hide the hardship they felt, and there were times when they took those stresses out on me. I understood. In truth it was my fault, and I owed them for so much. They tried their best. All three of us were treated as outsiders, but me in the cruellest of ways. The children were the worst. They called me names and most days I arrived home with new bruises and ripped clothing or something stolen. Niaellis cleaned me up and soothed me, while Ethgar confronted the townsfolk and frightened many into being at least civil to me. But eventually another bold child would step forward who needed to teach the half-orc a lesson. That was the pattern, several weeks of being left alone and feeling lonely, to a week of being bullied and abused. Sometimes I looked forward to their taunts, because at least then I was being spoken to. Other times I hated them, and wanted to hit back. But when I did that, I landed up hurting them more than I intended. I needed to control my anger or I would end up killing someone. Even at that age, I knew I was capable of it.
And I didn’t want to hurt them, I wanted more than anything to be accepted by the other children. I watched how the townsfolk behaved towards one another, invited each other into their homes, sharing meals together. Suppertime was always just Ethgar, Niaellis and me. If only I had been born human.
When I was fourteen, one day I went fishing in the woods. Ethgar had showed me how and it had become my task to fish for the family. I enjoyed the solitude by the Silver Serpent, the calm and coolness of the water. There, I felt at peace. And I was proud of the responsibility Ethgar had given me, and the smile my day’s catch put on Niaellis’ face. I was by the river when I smelled the smoke. I looked up and could see a trace above the treetops. It was coming from Livewell. I ran back to town, but as I approached something warned me not to loudly rush in. I entered the town cautiously. Four buildings were on fire. Windows and doors were smashed. The few streets were filled with broken furniture and debris. I couldn’t see anyone. The town was deserted. Then I saw a body in the street – Ulayn. I turned him over and discovered a large wound in his stomach. He was also lying on a strange weapon, which I recognized as an orc falcion. He looked at me – hatred in his eyes. “Your kind did this. Took us for slaves.” I ran to my home. Ethgar was there. He too was on the ground, his axe stuck in his head. He was dead. Of Niaellis there was no sign. I went back to Ulayn. But he was now dead also. I felt responsible. I had failed to save them, and I was alone.
The four houses burned to the ground and took three more buildings with them, including our home. I buried Ethgar, and Ulayn too. In the remaining buildings, I found some scraps of overlooked food. A bag of flour was broken on the floor but I swept that up. A chicken wandered back into town, and a week later I found a pig scavenging in the forest and managed to put a noose around its neck and lead it back. I stayed in what had once been Simca and Owen’s home with their three children. I dug what vegetables were left in the gardens, and continued to fish in the Silver Serpent and dried the fish in the sun to last over winter. I found berries, mushrooms, and roots in the woods. The first winter was difficult and lonely, but I managed. Summer came and went. I had became familiar with what to eat and what to avoid but made a mistake with a dark brown mushroom with a red belly. I was ill for a month. I could barely move and lost much weight. I thought I would die. I did recover, but by then winter had already set in and I wasn’t ready.
Winter was bitter. It seemed like the cold alone would be enough to kill me. Even worse, I couldn’t risk going to the river to fish. Even if I didn’t fall through the ice, I may never have found my way back home through the endless falling snow. And there were signs that orc war parties were moving nearby. I began carrying the falchion with me. Still, I retreated into the deepest cellar, where it was safer and slightly warmer. But I was running out of things to burn, and things to eat. I began chewing bark just to remind myself what it was like to have something in my stomach.
When spring came, I knew I had to move. I could not survive another winter like that nor would I survive an encounter with a war party. And after three years of being alone, I longed to be around other people, to see them, hear them, even if they were cruel. And so, I made the trek along the Silver Serpent river, following it to the only crossing I had ever heard of, the bridge at High Ford. The closer I got to High Ford the more apparent it was that I was approaching civilization. I passed cultivated fields and herds of livestock, and I finally saw people. As expected, when they saw me they pulled their children to safety and threatened to run me off their land. A few ran at me without any warning at all. I ran away.
The Wild Bridge was a wonder; a marvel of magic and craftsmanship over a mile in length spanning the Silver Serpent. But the guards promised to put me into a cell if I approached. I pleaded with them and finally convinced them to let me cross into Bastion, and had to give them my falchion sword as a toll. I’m not the only one from whom they confiscated weapons, but they gave others the option of paying a fee to bear arms first. One day I will return and reclaim my weapon.
I came to Bastion for its namesake: seeking asylum from the dangers of the Northern Wildlands. While I did not seem to be at risk of falling prey to any humanoid bands, the dangers here were just as great. People would not trade with me and I struggled to eat. I could not convince anyone I was harmless because they ran me off before I had the chance. So I stayed close to the river, a familiar friend. Near it, I had food and water. I followed it to the west, away from civilization and towards the mountains. I was searching for a piece of forest that was safe from the eyes of man, and the steel of orc.
The animals seemed indifferent to me. When I walked past, they continued climbing their tree or digging up their food. They didn’t stop their activity, they didn’t attack, they didn’t run away. I thought they considered me one of their own. One morning I awoke with a weasel sleeping on his back across my legs, his belly full and the contents of my food bag sprawled on the ground. He fled when I awoke, but in the days following I was certain I spied him close by.
One day, the river branched off and I followed the offshoot. It led to a small peaceful lake in the foothills, with a small peaceful town on the far shore. I made a shelter nearby but resisted announcing myself in town. I stayed a few weeks and began to feel comfortable. On several days I spotted a few people nearby fishing or washing clothes, doing the same as I. Those that spotted me were quick to put hands to weapons and didn’t let their eyes leave me, but they didn’t respond quite as aggressively as others I had met. It wasn’t exactly a warm welcome, but it seemed like a good start. It gave me hope. Maybe one day I would try to speak to them.
One summer day, I was throwing my makeshift net into the lake when I heard children laughing. I saw a group of seven or eight children swimming and playing on the other side. It was a joyous scene and it made me long for a family, for a sense of belonging. I was very aware that some of those children were not that much younger than I. They knew how to play, while I never had.
I then heard a scream. The laughter stopped and more screams continued. The children were panicked and quickly paddling back to shore. One child remained in the water and seemed to be struggling. He yelled for help before his head dipped below the water and only a hand thrashed above the surface briefly before disappearing too.
I went to his aid. I have never been a great swimmer, but I had to try to help. I swam out and reached the boy. I dove under and got my arm around him, but I felt something nip at my leg. There was a school of tiny fish, two dozen or more, taking little bites out of the boy, and soon out of me. It was difficult to carry both myself and the struggling child out of harm’s way, with the fish nipping at us from all sides. Just when I feared I would have to leave the boy in order to save myself, the two of us were lifted up and out of the water – into the air! On the shore I saw an old man - a wizard - gesturing in our direction. He made a dolphin appear from nowhere to herd the fish into a group, and then shot a lightning bolt into the midst of them, frying the lot of them! A group of people had gathered on the shore and the wizard then instructed them to help us back to shore. I was given a branch and easily paddled to solid ground.
Titus was grateful that I came to his aid, and his older sister Yola was even more ecstatic. The pair were full of so much joy and curiosity and warmth! The wizard, Draygen, was hard to decipher. There was no sign of welcoming in his eyes, but neither was there disdain. He did not like me, nor did he dislike me, because I had given him no reason for either. For a moment I imagined that this was what it was like to be treated like a regular person. I was in awe of him. I wanted him to like me.
After the incident, things were different. The majority of the town still shunned me and avoided me, but Titus and Yola always approached me and started a conversation when I was near. When I was far away they would wave and shout hello, and a few others even started doing the same. Titus asked me to teach him how to fish. I agreed, but was careful to do this in close view of the town. The boy wanted my friendship but I didn’t want to give anyone the impression that I was doing anything that might harm him. These were my happiest days in a long time, but I knew how quickly a moment could turn bad. I didn’t want that to happen. I didn’t want to have to move further up the river.
Also, there was something I could not stop thinking about: The power that Draygen had wielded was unlike anything I had ever seen. I wondered if it was something anyone could learn. I wondered if I could be taught this! Then I could save lives, be a hero, be accepted. I would never have to fear marauding orcs again. Perhaps I could find and free the slaves the orcs of the north had taken – Niaellis! I would finally have the strength to help myself and others. I decided that my only chance to learn this magic was through Draygen. I would never have another opportunity. I vowed to earn his favor. Titus guessed on my goal and vowed to help.
Titus took me to the small tower that Draygen called home. I knocked on the door and offered my help, but was curtly refused. But instead of leaving, I pulled the weeds from the garden, and then scrubbed the walls, and then offered up a catch of fish. Draygen relented and invited me to stay for lunch, but refused to teach me. He was willing to let me persist in the yard work though. Soon however I was running his errands, and eventually helping inside. It wasn't long before my weasel friend Orretz had snuck inside as well to help himself to a few treats. It was significantly longer before Draygen noticed, and he seemed shocked at the way we had bonded and communicated. He said that Orretz was a “familiar” - a creature that often linked a wizard to the magical world, and if a weasel could see the magical potential in me then maybe he should as well.
It was a long time before Draygen taught me anything. I cleaned his home, organized his books, purchased things for him in town, and gathered herbs from the forest. It was hard work, but it was safe. I was warm and fed, and perhaps even respected.
But my favorite times were the days when Draygen had no work for me, and I inevitably spent the day fishing with Titus and Yola. Their childish fascination with the world, all their questions about who I was and the things I had seen, the innocence with which they approached me, it was an acceptance I felt not even with Draygen. And it was Titus who taught me that Draygen had been training me all along. His father liked to say that each job was a lesson in hard work. Draygen was teaching me to become familiar with the names of the herbs and how he had used them. I was memorizing the titles of books and information in them, even if I didn't fully understand everything they meant yet. And by going into town and interacting with the townsfolk, Draygen was teaching both them and me to be more tolerant and trusting of one another. Draygen was instilling in me patience and determination and a sense of importance in every task I undertook. He was waiting for me to learn these things, and once I did our lessons in magic finally began.
There were days I felt sure that I was wrong, that everything was just an illusion, and the best thing for me to do would be to retreat to the north, find the orcs and plead for them to accept me as one of their own. But the orcs hated me as much as I hated them. The thought of having to see the orcs, smell them, speak with them, filled me with a scalding rage that only existed when I thought of orcs. I wanted them all dead, beginning with my mother. I was ashamed that I shared blood with them. It was a cruel joke. The humans rejected me, the orcs repelled me – I belonged no where, with no one! Until now.
All my life I was told that I was an orc – an ugly, stupid, murderous beast. But when I started training with Draygen I believed that I was more than an orc, better than an orc, that I was clever and that I would find people who would call me friend. By becoming a wizard – a great wizard – I would change my destiny. That’s why I chose transmutation. I wanted to become the person I felt I was, but that no one else could see. I wanted the power to make myself into the person I deserved to be. I didn’t want to be the murderous beast, I wanted to create and change and make things happen!
Fortunately, the merchant passed through a small, newly founded village called Livewell. He found a bed at Ulayn’s home. Ulayn, a blacksmith, had lost his wife and child while travelling to this cold northern land. Their ambitious party of thirty two persons, comprising seven families, had great hopes for this new territory. But the land was harsh and cold, the threat of orc marauders was high, and the trailblazers were naive. Ulayn had developed a cynicism that suited his guest fine. After a mug of ale, the trader offered to show Ulayn a most gruesome sight for only the cost of a copper. Intrigued, Ulayn put a copper on the table. They laughed when the trader revealed a half-orc babe. The merchant then clapped his hand over my mouth, and only removed it once I squirmed mightily and turned red.
A knock came at the door. It was Ethgar, a powerful but mild mannered woodsman. He announced he was there to pick up his ax which Ulayn had mended. When Ethgar entered, the trader offered him a deal also: for a copper he would pour a shot of ale down my throat. Ulayn knew Ethgar would not be amused but was too late to warn the trader. Ethgar put down a copper, but when Ulayn poured a drink Ethgar threw it against the wall, picked up me and his ax, and left. My life hasn’t been easy, but at that moment, it improved from what it most certainly would have become. Ethgar saved me.
Ethgar took me back to the cabin he shared with his wife Niaellis. He said that as soon as she saw me, Niaellis swept me up into her arms, held me close, and began singing a soft lullaby. And that’s how Ethgar and Niaellis became the only mother and father I have ever known. When most humans look at a half-orc with abhorrence, they raised me, protected me, and loved me for the next fourteen years. The townspeople could never understand their decision, and Ethgar and Niaellis suffered alongside me. There were times when they couldn’t hide the hardship they felt, and there were times when they took those stresses out on me. I understood. In truth it was my fault, and I owed them for so much. They tried their best. All three of us were treated as outsiders, but me in the cruellest of ways. The children were the worst. They called me names and most days I arrived home with new bruises and ripped clothing or something stolen. Niaellis cleaned me up and soothed me, while Ethgar confronted the townsfolk and frightened many into being at least civil to me. But eventually another bold child would step forward who needed to teach the half-orc a lesson. That was the pattern, several weeks of being left alone and feeling lonely, to a week of being bullied and abused. Sometimes I looked forward to their taunts, because at least then I was being spoken to. Other times I hated them, and wanted to hit back. But when I did that, I landed up hurting them more than I intended. I needed to control my anger or I would end up killing someone. Even at that age, I knew I was capable of it.
And I didn’t want to hurt them, I wanted more than anything to be accepted by the other children. I watched how the townsfolk behaved towards one another, invited each other into their homes, sharing meals together. Suppertime was always just Ethgar, Niaellis and me. If only I had been born human.
When I was fourteen, one day I went fishing in the woods. Ethgar had showed me how and it had become my task to fish for the family. I enjoyed the solitude by the Silver Serpent, the calm and coolness of the water. There, I felt at peace. And I was proud of the responsibility Ethgar had given me, and the smile my day’s catch put on Niaellis’ face. I was by the river when I smelled the smoke. I looked up and could see a trace above the treetops. It was coming from Livewell. I ran back to town, but as I approached something warned me not to loudly rush in. I entered the town cautiously. Four buildings were on fire. Windows and doors were smashed. The few streets were filled with broken furniture and debris. I couldn’t see anyone. The town was deserted. Then I saw a body in the street – Ulayn. I turned him over and discovered a large wound in his stomach. He was also lying on a strange weapon, which I recognized as an orc falcion. He looked at me – hatred in his eyes. “Your kind did this. Took us for slaves.” I ran to my home. Ethgar was there. He too was on the ground, his axe stuck in his head. He was dead. Of Niaellis there was no sign. I went back to Ulayn. But he was now dead also. I felt responsible. I had failed to save them, and I was alone.
The four houses burned to the ground and took three more buildings with them, including our home. I buried Ethgar, and Ulayn too. In the remaining buildings, I found some scraps of overlooked food. A bag of flour was broken on the floor but I swept that up. A chicken wandered back into town, and a week later I found a pig scavenging in the forest and managed to put a noose around its neck and lead it back. I stayed in what had once been Simca and Owen’s home with their three children. I dug what vegetables were left in the gardens, and continued to fish in the Silver Serpent and dried the fish in the sun to last over winter. I found berries, mushrooms, and roots in the woods. The first winter was difficult and lonely, but I managed. Summer came and went. I had became familiar with what to eat and what to avoid but made a mistake with a dark brown mushroom with a red belly. I was ill for a month. I could barely move and lost much weight. I thought I would die. I did recover, but by then winter had already set in and I wasn’t ready.
Winter was bitter. It seemed like the cold alone would be enough to kill me. Even worse, I couldn’t risk going to the river to fish. Even if I didn’t fall through the ice, I may never have found my way back home through the endless falling snow. And there were signs that orc war parties were moving nearby. I began carrying the falchion with me. Still, I retreated into the deepest cellar, where it was safer and slightly warmer. But I was running out of things to burn, and things to eat. I began chewing bark just to remind myself what it was like to have something in my stomach.
When spring came, I knew I had to move. I could not survive another winter like that nor would I survive an encounter with a war party. And after three years of being alone, I longed to be around other people, to see them, hear them, even if they were cruel. And so, I made the trek along the Silver Serpent river, following it to the only crossing I had ever heard of, the bridge at High Ford. The closer I got to High Ford the more apparent it was that I was approaching civilization. I passed cultivated fields and herds of livestock, and I finally saw people. As expected, when they saw me they pulled their children to safety and threatened to run me off their land. A few ran at me without any warning at all. I ran away.
The Wild Bridge was a wonder; a marvel of magic and craftsmanship over a mile in length spanning the Silver Serpent. But the guards promised to put me into a cell if I approached. I pleaded with them and finally convinced them to let me cross into Bastion, and had to give them my falchion sword as a toll. I’m not the only one from whom they confiscated weapons, but they gave others the option of paying a fee to bear arms first. One day I will return and reclaim my weapon.
I came to Bastion for its namesake: seeking asylum from the dangers of the Northern Wildlands. While I did not seem to be at risk of falling prey to any humanoid bands, the dangers here were just as great. People would not trade with me and I struggled to eat. I could not convince anyone I was harmless because they ran me off before I had the chance. So I stayed close to the river, a familiar friend. Near it, I had food and water. I followed it to the west, away from civilization and towards the mountains. I was searching for a piece of forest that was safe from the eyes of man, and the steel of orc.
The animals seemed indifferent to me. When I walked past, they continued climbing their tree or digging up their food. They didn’t stop their activity, they didn’t attack, they didn’t run away. I thought they considered me one of their own. One morning I awoke with a weasel sleeping on his back across my legs, his belly full and the contents of my food bag sprawled on the ground. He fled when I awoke, but in the days following I was certain I spied him close by.
One day, the river branched off and I followed the offshoot. It led to a small peaceful lake in the foothills, with a small peaceful town on the far shore. I made a shelter nearby but resisted announcing myself in town. I stayed a few weeks and began to feel comfortable. On several days I spotted a few people nearby fishing or washing clothes, doing the same as I. Those that spotted me were quick to put hands to weapons and didn’t let their eyes leave me, but they didn’t respond quite as aggressively as others I had met. It wasn’t exactly a warm welcome, but it seemed like a good start. It gave me hope. Maybe one day I would try to speak to them.
One summer day, I was throwing my makeshift net into the lake when I heard children laughing. I saw a group of seven or eight children swimming and playing on the other side. It was a joyous scene and it made me long for a family, for a sense of belonging. I was very aware that some of those children were not that much younger than I. They knew how to play, while I never had.
I then heard a scream. The laughter stopped and more screams continued. The children were panicked and quickly paddling back to shore. One child remained in the water and seemed to be struggling. He yelled for help before his head dipped below the water and only a hand thrashed above the surface briefly before disappearing too.
I went to his aid. I have never been a great swimmer, but I had to try to help. I swam out and reached the boy. I dove under and got my arm around him, but I felt something nip at my leg. There was a school of tiny fish, two dozen or more, taking little bites out of the boy, and soon out of me. It was difficult to carry both myself and the struggling child out of harm’s way, with the fish nipping at us from all sides. Just when I feared I would have to leave the boy in order to save myself, the two of us were lifted up and out of the water – into the air! On the shore I saw an old man - a wizard - gesturing in our direction. He made a dolphin appear from nowhere to herd the fish into a group, and then shot a lightning bolt into the midst of them, frying the lot of them! A group of people had gathered on the shore and the wizard then instructed them to help us back to shore. I was given a branch and easily paddled to solid ground.
Titus was grateful that I came to his aid, and his older sister Yola was even more ecstatic. The pair were full of so much joy and curiosity and warmth! The wizard, Draygen, was hard to decipher. There was no sign of welcoming in his eyes, but neither was there disdain. He did not like me, nor did he dislike me, because I had given him no reason for either. For a moment I imagined that this was what it was like to be treated like a regular person. I was in awe of him. I wanted him to like me.
After the incident, things were different. The majority of the town still shunned me and avoided me, but Titus and Yola always approached me and started a conversation when I was near. When I was far away they would wave and shout hello, and a few others even started doing the same. Titus asked me to teach him how to fish. I agreed, but was careful to do this in close view of the town. The boy wanted my friendship but I didn’t want to give anyone the impression that I was doing anything that might harm him. These were my happiest days in a long time, but I knew how quickly a moment could turn bad. I didn’t want that to happen. I didn’t want to have to move further up the river.
Also, there was something I could not stop thinking about: The power that Draygen had wielded was unlike anything I had ever seen. I wondered if it was something anyone could learn. I wondered if I could be taught this! Then I could save lives, be a hero, be accepted. I would never have to fear marauding orcs again. Perhaps I could find and free the slaves the orcs of the north had taken – Niaellis! I would finally have the strength to help myself and others. I decided that my only chance to learn this magic was through Draygen. I would never have another opportunity. I vowed to earn his favor. Titus guessed on my goal and vowed to help.
Titus took me to the small tower that Draygen called home. I knocked on the door and offered my help, but was curtly refused. But instead of leaving, I pulled the weeds from the garden, and then scrubbed the walls, and then offered up a catch of fish. Draygen relented and invited me to stay for lunch, but refused to teach me. He was willing to let me persist in the yard work though. Soon however I was running his errands, and eventually helping inside. It wasn't long before my weasel friend Orretz had snuck inside as well to help himself to a few treats. It was significantly longer before Draygen noticed, and he seemed shocked at the way we had bonded and communicated. He said that Orretz was a “familiar” - a creature that often linked a wizard to the magical world, and if a weasel could see the magical potential in me then maybe he should as well.
It was a long time before Draygen taught me anything. I cleaned his home, organized his books, purchased things for him in town, and gathered herbs from the forest. It was hard work, but it was safe. I was warm and fed, and perhaps even respected.
But my favorite times were the days when Draygen had no work for me, and I inevitably spent the day fishing with Titus and Yola. Their childish fascination with the world, all their questions about who I was and the things I had seen, the innocence with which they approached me, it was an acceptance I felt not even with Draygen. And it was Titus who taught me that Draygen had been training me all along. His father liked to say that each job was a lesson in hard work. Draygen was teaching me to become familiar with the names of the herbs and how he had used them. I was memorizing the titles of books and information in them, even if I didn't fully understand everything they meant yet. And by going into town and interacting with the townsfolk, Draygen was teaching both them and me to be more tolerant and trusting of one another. Draygen was instilling in me patience and determination and a sense of importance in every task I undertook. He was waiting for me to learn these things, and once I did our lessons in magic finally began.
There were days I felt sure that I was wrong, that everything was just an illusion, and the best thing for me to do would be to retreat to the north, find the orcs and plead for them to accept me as one of their own. But the orcs hated me as much as I hated them. The thought of having to see the orcs, smell them, speak with them, filled me with a scalding rage that only existed when I thought of orcs. I wanted them all dead, beginning with my mother. I was ashamed that I shared blood with them. It was a cruel joke. The humans rejected me, the orcs repelled me – I belonged no where, with no one! Until now.
All my life I was told that I was an orc – an ugly, stupid, murderous beast. But when I started training with Draygen I believed that I was more than an orc, better than an orc, that I was clever and that I would find people who would call me friend. By becoming a wizard – a great wizard – I would change my destiny. That’s why I chose transmutation. I wanted to become the person I felt I was, but that no one else could see. I wanted the power to make myself into the person I deserved to be. I didn’t want to be the murderous beast, I wanted to create and change and make things happen!