Offrin Rayndragon
By
David C.Daoust
Much happened as a result of Order’s decision to begin the culling of the Faunon from the face of Drue at the end of what would become known as ‘the Age of Immortals’. Most of which is a story for another day, though it was around this time, that the Elemental Giants that once roamed freely amongst the wild spirits, began to depart from Drue as well. Why exactly these giants chose to leave behind the natural world, is unknown, though to this day, it is very rare to find a pure giant roaming even the highest of peaks, or most secluded of tundra.
All that was left behind of this most ancient of the humanoid races, were a sparse few of Giantkin, for example; the Hidden Sons of Drue- more commonly known as the Mountain Dwarves, their kin the Hill Dwarves that would eventually migrate from beneath the mountains, and the rarest of all the Giantkin, the Juton.
Of the entire world, the most famous of all the Jutons, is said to be the Spirit of War himself, Marsdan, worshiped as a god amongst the ancient humans, said to be the Dark Hearted Brother of all Juton-kind. Marsdan, though, is a special case, most Juton are not known as gods and are quite mortal.
Jutons are Half-Giants, though not of mixed race, of mixed element. Very rare is it, that Giants of different elements bare a child, though the fruit of such a union, creates a being of both elements, thus unable to leave the realms of Drue, unable to join their kin on their respective planes. They are of both, but of neither.
Offrin Rayndragon, a Juton born of a Storm Giant Maiden and Frost Giant King, has wandered the lands for longer than one may imagine, and for the most part, has done so alone.
Lonely has his life been, never fitting in anywhere. Offrin’s Mother of the Storm, had raised him from a babe amongst the mountain tops of Dath’ryn’vale, above the home of the Mountain Dwarves, until the day he could fend for his own and she had to return to the Stormlands. She had named him Offrin, though he never knew her name beyond Mother, nor had he ever seen her again. While the dwarves beneath the mountains had befriended him, he spent most of his young years alone.
He’d never met his father, though he had come across his brothers many times. Frost Giants were cold and cruel, though held a camaraderie amongst brothers that could prove deadly. His brothers saw no reason to leave him out of these trials, even if they did have to travel from the Frostlands to see him.
Offrin had always passed his brothers’ tests, though was never made welcome, or ever presented to his father for his achievements. Offrin never took his father’s name, though amongst the realms of Drue, there was an ancient tale of a great dragon that lived in the ice, a dragon that could breathe lightning instead of fire, known as the Rayndragon. Offrin took this as his namesake, not to honor his Frost Giant heritage in anyway, for the Rayndragon, was a great killer of Frost Giants- their Kings especially.
Offrin once wandered the halls of the Mountain Dwarves, while they built many great halls that could hold him, he tired of forever crouching through doorways.
He once made it to the walls of the High Elves, they turned him away without entry, though there were not many that the High Elves did not turn away, for they were a reclusive race, and did not welcome outsiders within their walls.
Offrin lived amongst the humans for a time, though they were soooo many, and did not live for very long at all, like bunnies, he thought. Mostly, found the crowds not to his liking, not to mention, not being able to fit through any door!
In the end, the only place he ever found, that both banished the loneliness that filled his heart, and also welcomed his great size, was amongst war bands. Offrin spent many years amongst warrior mercenaries. Never one for strategy himself, he made a rather impressive soldier amongst the rabble that filled out such companies. He fought in many wars, many battles. He’d stormed gates, and crashed walls, all with great stones he’d thrown farther, and with far more accuracy, than any catapult.
The years passed, and Offrin thought he may finally have tired of such company. It was around the time he’d almost slung up his stones for good, that the ‘Old One’ had finally crossed paths with him. In fact, he had found a nice cavern, near a small village of the Hill Dwarves, known as Ganney’s Loch, when he met the small intelligent gnome.
Alarad, an already powerful wizard, had new found family that lived amongst the Hill Dwarves. Alarad himself though, thanks to a tragedy in his youth, was raised amongst the Wood Elves, which made him a rather unusual individual. Though truly, this upbringing, is probably the strongest link in their friendship; for while Alarad was alone in his short stature for most of his life, so too was the towering Juton throughout his. Where Alarad was small and smart beyond all reason, Offrin was large and strong beyond compare.
Alarad’s tragedy followed him all his life, burned like a fire in his chest, in his mind, all consuming, the small gnome was looking for a fight. The pair became mercenaries. Though, the small mage fought for reasons all his own, the Juton was ever ready, at his back, to crush any that may bring harm to his one true friend.
While Alarad boasted arcane might that could punch holes through mountains, his size was not a selling point that gave him much chance to boast, nor did the fact that his natural white hair made him appear older than a fighting man should, earning him the nick name ‘Old One’ amongst the mercenary companies. Though, It became a cinch to be hired when the experienced colossus next to him was worth a company of fighting men all his own.
They fought their way from battle to battle, Alarad rising in ranks, until they came across the likes of the Great Lord Knights, from there, their lives changed for good. Alarad’s plans all came to fruition, and the mercenary ‘Old One’ became known as the ‘Lone Mage’, a Lord in his own right, as his march across the lands came to a victorious end, an end that would be heralded under a banner all his own. This though is a story for another day, to be told in another way…
The fire quenched, this ‘Old One’ finally got a chance to become old! Alarad returned to his family amongst Ganney’s Loch and Offrin finally got a chance to take up residence within that cavern on the village’s outskirts. Here they lived for years and years, with the days of war far behind, until one year the Lone Mage vanished, and all his nieces and all his nephews, could not find him. And all his friends would worry and worry, until at last Offrin, who knew better than to worry, had gotten word, and he too vanished into the night, as requested, to meet his oldest, dearest, friend.
