Meric the Storyman: Rega and the Dragonstones

In his dream, Doman turned. At his command stood one-hundred and twenty orcs, all eager to follow their half-orc leader into the next village. Being half-orc, he stood almost as tall as a human, but his skin had a greenish tone. His facial features were more orcish in nature; fangs that protruded from his mouth, sloped forehead, and pointy ears. His eyes, however, were human-looking and deep blue.

He signaled and they began. Since it was at the break of dawn, most of the villagers were eating breakfast or still sleeping. The few men on watch were cut down as soon as they tried to defend their homes.

Doman and five other orcs entered one of the homes. A man in a robe tried to attack, but was gutted by the scimitar in Doman’s hand. The half-orc then walked toward the bedroom. As he entered, a staff came swinging at him. Instinctively, he ducked to avoid the blow and then struck back, all in one move. It was a perfect blow. As the body crumpled, the decapitated head rolled into his view, causing him to stop and stare.

It was the head of his mother.

“Doman. Doman! Wake up! You’re having another nightmare.”

Doman opened his eyes. As soon as he saw his mother sitting next to him on his bed, he realized that he had been dreaming again. He sat up and put his arms around his mother and hugged her.

“It’ll pass, my son.” said Latala, Doman’s mother. “It’ll pass.” She then began chanting the words to the spell which would calm her son. This same spell had been used every time he had his bad dreams. When it took effect she whispered in his ear, “Now sleep, my child. Let no more dreams visit you tonight.”

Doman lay back down and fell into a deep sleep almost instantly.

Latala quietly left his room, placing the wreath of mistletoe back into her apron pocket that she had carried in. Though dawn was still a few hours away, she decided to stay up and begin the day’s work. She put on her day clothes, put her long dark hair into a ponytail, grabbed her apron and went to the kitchen.

As she was cooking herself something to eat for breakfast, she heard a scratch at the door. Upon opening it, a slightly pudgy raccoon walked in, heading straight for the oven.

“Leave that alone, Roderic.” scolded Latala. “I’ll feed you when I’m ready.”

The raccoon turned pouting eyes up to her, hoping that it would work. It did not. She recognized his begging and chose to ignore it.

“Where have you been off to this time?” she asked, getting back to cooking. “Have you found another lady friend?”

The raccoon answered her in raccoon fashion, but Latala could understand him perfectly.

“What is this? You felt something calling to you?” she asked. “I think I had better check this out.”

She took the mistletoe back out of her apron, which she was now wearing, and walked over to the window. Bringing an image of a hawk to mind she started another spell.

Within moments, three hawks soared into the clearing near the house, landing on a fencepost.

“It seems that we may be having a potential problem in the area.” she told the birds. “Fly around and see if you can spot what it may be.”

As fast as the hawks came, they left.

Turning back to the raccoon, Latala asked, “Well, Roderic, how hungry are you?”

The raccoon licked his lips several times.

“I’ll take that as meaning very hungry.” she said with a smile.

At dawn, Doman awoke feeling refreshed, although he was still bothered from the dream. He knew it was time for him to leave. In fact, he had known for the past couple of months, when these dreams had first started. He would talk to his mother today.

Thinking of her brought a smile to his face. He knew he was a child of rape...half-elven mother...orc father, making him half-orc. It had happened during the orc invasion of twenty years before. His mother had been married, but her husband was killed during the invasion. But Doman knew that he was different from other half-orcs. Where they were brought up with hatred, he had been brought up with love. Having a half-elven druid for a mother helped in this.

He realized that his mother must have gone through something similar. Doman’s grandfather had been human while his grandmother is an elf. His mother was never fully accepted by either of the two races, so she felt more at ease living away from everyone else. So, when Doman was born, she packed up her things and left the small druidic community where she had been staying and made a new home in the forest.

His thoughts wandered back to his dream. They seemed to be getting more violent each time. He knew that it was the orc nature in him causing this. Although during the day he could prevent the violent thoughts, the moment he slept, they came. He needed to leave. He had to find out what side of him would dominate...the human, the elf, or the orc.

Then the smell of biscuits and eggs drifted into his room. This put all thoughts out of his mind but hunger. He threw on a light blue night robe on the way to the table.

While washing down his seventh biscuit with some goat’s milk, Doman heard the flapping of wings outside.

“The hawks.” said his mother, which did not tell him a thing.

Doman watched his mother talking with the birds. He could do some of the easier druid spells, and he could understand some of Roderic’s motions; mostly when he made motions that concerned food. He could also do this spell allowing him to speak with animals.

When Latala finished, she threw the hawks some chunks of rabbit she had been preparing for a stew.

“What was all that about?” asked Doman.

“It all started earlier with Roderic.” answered his mother.

Hearing his name, the raccoon looked up expecting some food, but when he saw there was none, he went back to napping.

“He felt something calling him last night. I brought the hawks here and asked them to search the area for any strangers. They spotted a small party about two miles west of here...two men, a woman, two halflings, and two brownies.”

Hearing about the travelers brought the problem of him having to leave to mind. He sat and thought for a few minutes then decided to tell his mother he wanted to leave. “Mother, there’s something...”

He did not get to finish. His mother had been expecting this for some time, so she knew by the tone of his voice what he was going to say. “I know, Doman. You feel it is time to leave. I won’t try to stop you. Your nightmares have been getting worse and I know you need your space to deal with them. All I ask is for you to remember that I love you and will always love you.”

Doman went to his mother and hugged her. “I love you, too.” he said.

He helped his mother clean the morning dishes and then went to prepare for the journey. Since he would be gone for a while, he put on his leather tunic and pants. He also wore his sturdy boots. These didn’t offer a lot of protection, but wearing armor with metal would interfere with the casting of druid spells. He at least had an oaken club and a wooden shield to use as protection. He had little left to pack, for he never needed a lot. His mother also prepared him some food to last for several days, which he packed as well.

“Doman, I have one final item for you.” said Latala. Then she gave him a necklace. It was a crude piece of jewelry, made out of a leathery type of material. It was the pendant, however, that caught Doman’s eye. It was very poorly done, but he could tell it was in the shape of a dragon. “This was your natural father’s, but it fell off when...” she stopped. “I saved it in case you ever wanted to locate the tribe he came from, for whatever reason.”

He placed the necklace in his pack. Once more he went to his mother and hugged her. “Thank you, for everything.” he said to her. He then waved goodbye to Roderic, who waved back, and finally started out the door.

“Which way are you heading?” asked Latala.

“I think I’ll head west for a couple of miles. If a party is traveling with halflings and brownies, maybe they’ll accept a half-orc.” he answered. He then waved one final time before heading west.

Doman headed in the direction his mother had said the group would be. He found the remains of a fire and several fresh piles of horse manure. Wagon tracks went in the direction of the road.

He followed these tracks. They shortly connected with the road, heading northwest. He continued to follow.

He caught sight of them about an hour later. Two men were on horseback, the halflings and a woman were riding in a wagon being pulled by two ponies. There was no sign of the brownies.

He continued to follow. The weather was beautiful; the sky was clear.

Around midday, Doman saw the group stop to give the horses and ponies a break. He kept walking. This is where he could begin to catch up to them.

The group of travelers packed up and continued on their way. By the afternoon, they had reached the Great North/South road. The group, previously going northwest, now turned north. It appeared they might be heading to Striplind.

Doman had been to Striplind a few times. The druid community his mother had belonged to moved there after the orc invasion. He knew his mother did not move with them because of him. She was afraid they would shun her and her half-orc child. She still visited them on occasion, though.

This brought a little anger to him. How dare they feel that way? It was not his mother’s fault. Nor was it his fault. Neither of them had any control of these events. Why did the humans have to have so much hate against half-orcs? He had to stop and take a couple deep breaths before the anger left.

By nightfall, the group had stopped. They had found a secure spot some ways away from the road. Doman would have to be careful when he finally approached them. He paused a short distance from their campsite to consider his words.

When he was ready to make introductions, a commotion began. Running toward them, he saw a large black bear attacking the party. He let the magic of the spell build up in him. As he reached the party, he felt the spell reach its full force. Ignoring the party, he went directly toward the bear.

He gestured with his hands, releasing the magic of the spell. He began to understand what the bear’s growls meant. He then spoke back to the bear. The bear stopped her attack and turned toward him.

“Please don’t attack this group of humanoid creatures.” Doman said to the bear.

“I hunger. My cubs hunger.” answered the bear. “I smell food.”

“I will help you.” said Doman, and then to one of the men, “Give me some food...Quick!”

The man in chainmail went to the wagon and returned with two fat rabbits. He gave these to Doman.

“Accept these. Go feed your children.” said Doman to the bear. He then set the rabbits down for the bear to pick up.

She came up, took the rabbits, and then she headed to her cubs.

“Thank you.” said Doman to the man. “She was just hungry.”

The men and halflings, not fully putting their weapons away, came closer to Doman. Then, the smaller man spoke.

“Our thanks to you, stranger. We are in your debt.”

He then heard the woman whisper to the one who had just spoken, “Rega, only druids can speak to animals like this half-orc did.”

Doman bowed low. After rising, he said, “If it isn’t so bold, I would like to collect on that debt by asking to join your party.”

The man who had been called Rega gathered the others together. In a few minutes, he cameback and said, “Let’s hear your story. I’m sorry, but with the problems going on with the orcs, and you appearing to look somewhat orcish, we have to be careful.”

Doman understood all too well. So, he began.

He told them about his birth, his mother, his skills and his desire to adventure. He also told them that he did have a limited amount of druid abilities. He did not, however, tell them about his dreams. That was his personal secret, the real reason for his adventuring.

The group got together to talk once more. The man called Rega came back and said, “We welcome you...”

“Doman.” said the half-orc, introducing himself.

Rega, Dexir, Lobaki, Stice and Lano introduced themselves to Doman. Then, two brownies came out of the wagon. They called themselves Certi and Ardi.

Doman was happy...for now.