Garrak Steelhide

Written by Garrak

Chapter 1 - The Taurling Slave
A large baby Taurling was born in the northern hills of Tekor during a rather turbulent time. He was very stout for being so young and covered with beautiful golden fur, it glowed in the sunlight. Named by his mother Seota, Garrak was a very adventurous boy. He enjoyed playing with the other Minotaur from neighboring villages and was full of energy. He enjoyed smelling the flowers and roaming among the hills and plains of the land west of the mountains. He often dreamed of making friends with orcs some day and played pretend battles with his friends, one of them pretending to be an Orc and one pretending to be a Giant.
There had been many conflicts in the hills and mountains in the past between giant and orcs before and one day things in little Garrak's life changed forever. Hill giants ran down from the hills with terrible intent, followed up by columns of magical fire. Through the smoke, the visage of a young human man pushed through - His body cloaked in gilded woolen robes. His eyes wandered beneath the shade of his hood and finally found the entrance to young Garrak's hiding place, the tent where young Taurlings played day after day. The young wizard had found what he came for. As the tent entrance was pushed open two tough skinned ogres pushed through and flanked both sides of the entrance and Garrak and his young friends let out cries for help, retreating to the back of the tent. The wizard quickly silenced their cries with a wave of his finger. A much larger being peered into the tent with thick, dry fingertips. He knelt into the tent alongside the wizard and sought out the young Taurlings. They would offer no resistance to being put in a large sack like rodents as they were no match for such powerful sorcery.
Alsaziar had new tools for his army and much work had to be done...
Chapter 2 - Far from Home
The young taurling shared the shifting of weight in the sack with the other Taurlings. The large creature moved them around with little effort. Eventually they were placed upon the hard ground somewhere and the bag blocked some of the bright sunlight. The sound of oceanic birds surrounded them with a cacophony of squawks, though the young taurs had never been to the edge of such a body of water. Dumbfounded and scared, the little taurs embraced one another inside the thick cloth bag arm in arm. Garrak caressed his brothers and sang a lullaby that his mother had sung to him when he had trouble sleeping. The younger Taurs embraced him in turn and nuzzled their heads into one another.
All of the sudden the bag shook violently and was picked up and dropped. A voice sounding much like the large being that carried them sneered at them in Jotun "Stop your chanting! Don't make me pull you out and whip you!". The young boys sobbed and lowered their head in submission. Many days passed and the boys were given little more than a husk of stale bread and water that had warmed in the sun. The warm water offered little reprieve as the sack they were trapped in was stifling. The boys, after their initial fright, spent many days and nights bobbing on the ocean in their sack helpless from what was to come. The beings that spoke, some much larger than others, spoke in a language foreign to the young Taurling. The common tongue of the world had not yet made it's way to the secluded village that Garrak had grew up in. In more ways than one, Garrak's captors were slaves just as much as him. However, this knowledge would not be known to the young boy for many decades. With much clamor, it seemed the ship had arrived at a small port. The cheer of the shipmates was much louder than the sounds emanating from the port itself.
Once again the sack was lifted and after much swaying again was set atop a hard, wooden, surface. The creak of wood and crunching of the soil beneath gave way to the howling wind. Much conversation was had between the human and giant captors among what must have been a large caravan heading down a secluded road. The caravan traveled through the night and the young boys passed out in the nocturnal cold. Young Garrak dreamt of his pleasant childhood: He pictured his companions and himself play fighting with sticks in the village and his mother calling to them for dinner. He pictured the unforgettable image of his community and family huddled around the long bench in the mess tent, eating, sharing stories and the different foods that each family had brought. Garrak reached to his mother to pass the water pitcher and the veil of his dream shattered around him, he found himself among his young friends and the shriek of large metal doors startled them awake.
The reverberating sound of magic hummed around the vessel trapping the young taurs and louder it grew. A gripping flesh ripping pain jolted through each of the boys bodies. They were somewhere else now.
Chapter 3 - Scarred and Unbroken
Young Garrak heard the sound of some profane sorcerer chanting and the light faded around him. He awoke at what must have been some months later. Images filled his mind, images he only partly remembered: The young wizard was cloaked and hooded with a relatively ornate trim, the shadows hiding all but the outer-most parts of his face. The wizard channeling magic around him spoke in a shrill voice and the Taur felt intense searing pain that felt like burning just beneath the flesh. The dry, dark stone was neatly chiseled into blocks that built up the series of cells around him, only separated by steel bars. All throughout these memories the young taurling was shackled to the cold stone walls just as he was now.
The sound of hard leather on cold stone shattered the silence and Garrak looked around the barely lit prison. A familiar person approached from the hard stone stairs below to the cold prison Garrak found himself trapped in. A torchlight broke through the steel bars and the young taur grimaced for what was to come. The cloaked figure stepped into Garrak's vision and the torchlight shined upon the youthful face of who would be known as Alsaziar. The human spoke in the language the young taur didn't understand "I have all the time I need, you should give up. Let's make a deal. All I need is your essence...your soul. You will be more powerful than you can imagine. I will make you a king." Garrak snickered at the wizard's offer. "You don't want to end up like your brothers do you?" The young prince shouted. He lowered the torch to the side of the cell and the torchlight revealed one of Garrak's friends. The poor Taurlings body was disfigured and beaten, blood soaked the stone beneath him.
Young Garrak sneered, squirmed and shook, overcome with emotion. The wizard held himself and let out a guttural laugh in defiance. Miraculously, the boy slipped free of his steel shackles and charged the human. Their skulls collided and the young human fell to the floor like a sack of beans. Garrak searched the wizard and retrieved a set of keys. He unlocked his cell and that of his closest friend, and in the shadows lay his broken body. A stream of tears flowed down Garrak's face and he said a prayer for his dead brother. A tall window at the far end of the floor was lit by moonlight and looked relatively easy to break. Young Garrak charged down the hallway and cast himself through the large glass pane. He tumbled and fell, his body cushioned by the snow beneath. He cried out as he brought himself to his feet. With what little energy he had he stumbled his way to the rocky shore. Thanks to the moonlight he could see the shore across the way. He cast himself into the cold ocean water and paddled himself, much like a dog, until he collapsed on the shore of some unknown land.
He awoke once again among the snow and stone of some foreign shore and great mountains greeted his west. A freezing tidepool at his side was filled with fish and he reached down grabbing one. He cut into the fish as best he could with a sharp rock and ate the flesh of the fish.
Chapter 4 - A Boy Among Wolves
He traveled up the steady incline of the mountain, filling himself with what little berries and plants he could and taking in little bits of snow as he climbed. He found a rocky clearing that led into another valley filled with birch trees. The young Taurling's body shivered with cold and he made it into the forest. Badly wounded from the glass and torture he had endured he fell to all fours in the forest. He thought back of his mother and his friends, thoughts of despair invaded his mind. Was this the end for Garrak? He accepted the end and choked up, clenching his lips and eyes shut. Tears flowed down the soft tufts of fur on his face and trickles of blood ran down the sides of his torso. Garrak had accepted his fate. The shine of eyes peered out through the cold night. Paws on crunchy snow broke the silence and as Garrak righted himself to his elbows he was surrounded. The bodies of creatures covered in black fur stared at him from all directions, through their muzzles exited hot air and excitement. Wolves. They salivated and looked to him as a meal as he peered up at them. One of the larger beings of their group howled and snarled to the other denizens of the pack.
The beings pushed up against him, some climbing onto his chest and licked his various wounds. The young minotaur felt the warmth of the pack surround him and he passed from consciousness once again. He awoke in the bright light of the day to the smell of a freshly dead animal. Young Garrak sat up and looked at the pack who was picking away at the meat and bones of some beast. One of the pack tugged at Garraks fur as he sat up, beckoning him to the kill. He didn't understand this generosity from random beasts of the wild, maybe they considered him one of their own. He knelt down in the gap left by the pack. He pulled and tore at the carnage with his teeth and his face became soaked with the blood. This would mark a period in the Taurling's life. Young Garrak spent years with these creatures and he hunted with them as if he were their own - he subsisted off of the land. They understood little of what verbal guidance he could provide but they were like kin. One day Garrak awoke to the shriek of pain that one of his companions let out. Shafts of wood and metal protruded from the bodies of his furry friends. Blood trails covered the snow and most of his friends were maimed by some unknown force. Small, stocky beings covered in the furs of other animals peered out from the darkness. Two men and one younger female approached young Garrak, one of the men with their crossbow drawn at the only surviving member of his friends. The dwarf aimed to shoot and young Garrak leapt in front of the crossbow bolt saving the young wolf from a mortal wound. The bolt pierced his thigh and stuck out from the front. The little minotaur cried out in pain and squirmed in the cold snow and his wolf companion hunched back in fear of the Dwarves.
The young female dwarf approached the wolf in a peaceful gesture, extending her hands. The wolf snarled and whimpered over Garrak who lay wounded in the snow. The two larger male dwarves lassoed and captured the wolf but didn't hurt him. The young female dwarf broke the arrow protruding from the minotaur's leg and pulled it clean from the other side. The dwarves conversed back and forth in a language even more foreign to young Garrak. She reached down and touched the wound on his leg and let out a low chant in that same language. A warm, soothing feeling coursed through Garrak's body and the deep wound in his leg stitched itself away with magical tendrils. He laid at his back on his elbows in shock. The pack who had raised and protected him lay dead in the snow. The only survivor was trapped in a net beside him. Though relieved from the aid provided by the young female dwarf, the Taur was distraught by the loss of his companions. The creatures that he had fought with and who protected him were no more.
Chapter 5 - A World of Stone
With tears in his eyes, young Garrak pleaded and begged to the Dwarves. His native tongue shared the same script as the dwarves he spoke to and very few understood. He didn't want to go back to being a prisoner. The younger female Dwarf that healed Garrak pleaded with her kin to not hurt him. Begrudgingly they agreed and let the taur return to Korzhad with them, his wolf companion still bound in the net. Still limping slightly from the arrow that pierced his leg, young Garrak was led into a massive underground dwelling carved from stone. He looked around in amazement, bewildered by such a grand city beneath the ground. The countless denizens of Korzhad shot piercing glares toward the young, innocent taur and he didn't even notice their discontent. Finally they reached a sequestered area in the town and passed through grand gates to the noble district. In this part of the grand city even more hostile looks were given to the young taur. This time there was no spectacle for little Garrak to distract himself with. He noticed their angry glares and bowed his gaze, fearing he would never fit in. Finally they arrived at the dwelling of this young dwarf's family. He sat in awe as the other elderly dwarves discussed and argued the presence of him, eventually they came to an agreement.
Young Garrak did many small tasks and favors within Korzhad for these dwarves. He also learned the common and dwarven tongue over the course of a few years from the young female Dwarf known as Abwyn. Eventually young Garrak and Abwyn were allowed to take little adventures outside of the city to retrieve goods from the nearby surface villages and one day a group of bandits ambushed Garrak and Abwyn. Garrak was no longer a taurling and the bandits had picked the wrong fight. With an arrow sticking in his chest he grabbed the lead bandit, who was wielding a sharp dagger-like weapon, by the arm and threw him to the ground effortlessly. The other bandits took shots at the minotaur as he placed a hoof on the lead bandits chest, trapping him. The minotaur avoided the shots and the bandits fled, realizing it wasn't worth the trouble. Garrak had Abwyn question the lead bandit and she learned that the human bandit was not only a kid, but merely hungry and was a refugee from the recent destruction of Hadnes. They fed the poor kid and brought him with them back to Korzhad. Many more were to follow. In the bandit Garrak saw himself and a deeper implication hit him. Something spiritual overcame the minotaur and he sought to offer himself as a conscript to the human forces fighting off the nearby attacks. Young Abwyn offered to accompany him and much to her family's dismay they reluctantly agreed.
Chapter 6 - Birds of a Feather

Male
Minotaur
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Druid, Fighter
Dominion: Gullonde
Age: 306 Years (When including timeless body his visible age would be about 102 years (Born -124 BP)
Allegiance: Gullonde, Cyrvel Lindolen, Thorund Zerdun

Related Historical Events

• 124 BP
  Garrak Steelhide is Born