|Minotaur Fighter - Dastrun of Clan Lagrangli
||[Oct. 1st, 2006|12:54 am]
DragonLance: Wanderers' Tales
Creation myths say that, after dragons, the Gods made three sentient races to live on the world. The short-lived humans bred like rats and live short, violent lives reminiscent of wildfire. The twig-thin elves retreated into the primordial forests to skulk in fear of death and change. Before all others the gods created the ogres, which were the best race.
The ogres were stronger, smarter and lived longer than the elves or humans. Ogres created the first great cities, and the first empire, to grace the world. However, even this near-perfect race was flawed, and in time those flaws spread to devour and degrade the entire species.
It was the god Sargas who lifted the very best ogres up from their fallen brethren. He marked them with his own noble, horned visage so that they would never again be confused with the monkey-like lesser races of the world. Sargas taught his chosen people of honor, glory and unity. Thus were born the Minotaurs, the best of the best.
In the thousands of years since, the Minotaurs have suffered oppression and slavery at the hands of multiple races. Sargas taught that these failures were the fault of weakness in the Minotaurs themselves. Hubris and rage brought defeat to the Minotaurs despite the inferiority of their enemies. Sargas taught them to hold honor above all things, and part of honor was vengeance for the wronged. If the father falls, the son must take up his axe. If the son should fall, then the brother shall follow. When the brother falls, let his cause become the cause of his cousin. And so on. The harshest judges of a Minotaur’s worth would be their own family. Through the maintenance of family honor the perfect Minotaurs would be raised. So the children of Sargas changed, to better match their god and to rise above their mortal peers.
The present-day has brought the glory of conquest to the entire Minotaur race on the continent of Ansalon. Despite tumultuous political and religious infighting in the past ten years, the Empire has united behind a strong new emperor and re-embraced the worship of Sargas who had been thought dead. After a brilliant shock attack against the ancient elven homeland, the Minotaurs have gained their first foothold on main land Ansalon.
Ancient sylvan forests are being cleared to new Minotaur settlements on the southeast coast of the continent. The elves have fled their land while the Minotaurs reap the bounty of the Silvanesti Forests boundless natural resources and the material wealth of the elves’ most ancient capital. The opportunies for honor and the advancement of the Minotaur race are endless in the new colony.
However, even in such a prosperous time dissenters and cowards will be found. Such is the case of Grezignalthi of Clan Lagrangli. Grezig was the commander of a squad of imperial scouts, pushing ahead into the western Silvanesti Forest. The survivors of his command report that a hidden camp of elven fighters was found, and a battle broke out. The reports are conflicted, as the survivors had become fevered by the time they reached secure outposts. However all agree that early in the fight Grezig attempted to flee the battlefield and attacked his own soldiers to do so.
Grezignalthi has been charged with cowardice, insubordination and treason against the empire. His name is to be stricken from clan records, and Clan Lagrangli itself has become shadowed by this dishonor. Scouting parties sent out since have recovered the remains of all the deceased Minotaurs from Grezig’s command, except for Grezig himself. Grezig’s failure to return and face his punishment has solidified his guilty in the minds of the colony command.
Grazig’s younger brother, Dastrun of Clan Lagrangli is now coping with the shockwaves of his brother’s desertion. While most of his army comrades understand that Dastrun himself has done no wrong, shared honor among family members is perhaps the strongest tradition in Minotaur society. Close friends have become distant, genial commanders have become terse, and Dastrun can feel the eyes of those all around him, waiting for him to show the slightest flaw.
Fortunately Dastrun has completed his mandatory tour of duty in the Imperial Army. Where he might once have looked forward to promotion and prosperity by re-enlisting. Dastrun now finds the Minotaur military a very inhospitable place. Aside form his brother, only distantly related clan members are on the mainland colony and Dastrun finds himself very much alone. Minotaurs that do not know Dastrun’s identity treat him as cordially as any other member of the empire, but all who do know treat him curtly and keep a safe distance. Some behave as if dishonor itself were a disease, contagious as any plague.
There is nothing for Dastrun back on the homeland, save to wallow in dishonor among his parents and clan members. However, there is an entire continent of opportunities to gain glory, and Dastrun might work his way up and redeem the Clan Lagrangli. With hostile elven raiding parties, embittered Dark Knight companies, savage ogre war bands, and curious kender wanderers there is much to cause any sane Minotaur concern. However, Dastrun is still a Minotaur, still one of the best of the best; even if he is lowest among them.
Dastrun of Clan Lagrangli must plan for the future.