Samuel Draconus was born Samuel Oakenstaff. He was named after his father, a common stonemason working in the northern mountains. Samuel grew up in a quaint village where troubles rarely arose and the people relied on the power of their local deity to protect them from wolves and harsh winters alike.
When Samuel was seven years old, a marauding band of Orcs pillaged his village and put his father and mother to the sword. Samuel escaped in barely enough time to flee into the northern mountains.
A monastery situated in the recesses of the mountains contained a cult of dragon worshippers. Although throughout the years the beliefs of the cult were changed and eventually the monks forgot the reasons why their mountains were considered sacred. Despite not knowing why the mountains were sacred it was nevertheless considered blasphemy to tread in the caves.
With this dire warning (which he had been reminded of all his life), ringing in his ears, Samuel nevertheless entered the caves. At first he was afraid, but he feared the Orcs who had followed up into the mountains far more than he did the darkness of the caves. After constructing a crude torch Samuel slowly wound his way through the caves until he came upon an enormous cavern.
Suddenly from behind he heard the Orcs cry out that they had found him.
Paralyzed with fear he fell on his knees and called upon the local deity, Larraxis to save him. As it turned out, his prayer did not fall on deaf ears. Moments later the Orcs emerged into the entrance of the cavern and were immediately engulfed in flames.
When the shrieking from the dying Orcs finally subsided, Samuel sat in bewilderment.
“I AM NOT A GOD, BY THE WAY” came a booming feminine voice. The voice emanated power, yet also radiated compassion and wisdom.
Samuel turned around. The torch had burned out but gradually his eyes adjusted and he caught sight of something big and copper colored.
“YOU HAVE NO NEED TO FEAR YOUNG BOY. I AM LARRAXIS, I AM THE COPPER DRAGON OF THE NORTH”
The boy could hardly believe his ears…or his eyes for that matter. A real dragon.
“Forgive me for intruding but, you see…”
“YOU NEED NOT EXPLAIN CHILD. I WAS FLYING OVER THE VILLAGE WHEN THE ORCS ATTACKED. I WATCHED YOU FIND YOUR WAY UP HERE AND I WOULD LIKE FOR YOU TO STAY HERE WITH ME. I WILL BE YOUR MOTHER”
As the conversation progressed it was discovered that Larraxis was an ancient dragon, some 6,000 years old (give or take). She had been lonely for the past 2,000 years while the monastery completely forgot her existence.
In her presence, Samuel grew into a fine young man. In remembrance of his father he kept his given name, but changed his surname to Draconus to express his kinship with his new guardian.
Under Larraxis’ tutelage, Samuel became fluent in Draconic tongue as well as an accomplished dancer and flutist (he played in order to entertain her).
As the boy grew, it was apparent he had something of a restless soul and a mischievous side. Larraxis had spent 4,000 years among mankind and that time had given her wisdom, including the wisdom to know when not to impart wisdom (i.e. lecture). She had also learned that humans need to discover things for themselves, therefore she never objected to the boy’s mischief. Even when he would tickle the spot between her shoulder plates (her only weak spot).
At the age of 14 while he was gathering firewood in the mountains the cavern was beset by a marauding band of adventurers whose lust for gold outweighed their conscience to commit such a heinous deed. They killed Larraxis and plundered her cave including the flute she had given to Samuel.
When he returned, overcome with rage he stalked the party of adventurers. It wasn’t difficult, they had gotten so drunk from their kill they didn’t even bothering posting sentries for the night. Samuel snuck in and put all of them to the sword. He even freed two badly abused animals they had been holding, a horse, which Samuel named Aurellia after his mother and a dog which he named Shadow. They have been his constant companions since then.
He returned to the cavern and for days could do nothing but mourn, twice an orphan at such a tender age. He burned with hatred for those who with such reckless abandon had taken life and yet he felt immense guilt for killing them.
He petitioned Bahamut, the patron god of dragons to allow him to speak one last time with Larraxis. Because of the pitiable desperation of his prayer and the fact that he prayed in perfect Draconic tongue, Bahamut granted his request.
Larraxis’ spirit appeared and for hours she poured upon him all the wisdom she knew he would be capable of receiving (not much for a 14 year old, but enough to help him get by in the world on his own).
Her last words to him were, “YOU ARE A RASCAL, THAT IS FOR SURE. BUT YOUR HEART IS GOOD AND YOUR COMPASSION IS STRONG. NEVER LET THE WORLD TAKE YOUR COMPASSION FROM YOU.”
With that, Larraxis passed on to the realm beyond.
Samuel became a Rogue after that. With the help of his equally sly and cunning companions, Shadow and Aurellia he wonders in search of adventure, to do good deeds but not for the sake of the law, but rather because of the love which he had been shown and the sacrifice that had been given to protect him.
He joins the party in search of The World Tree. His reasons for doing so are his own. But whatever happens, as long as he can have fun and do good in the world…even if he does so in legally questionable manner, he will be happy.
As Samuel unlocks the power that lies inside of him, he unlocks something else, as well. Something that haunts his sleep…
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The roar of the crowd is deafening. You can feel their hunger for blood. Your blood.
A list of your crimes is read. Each one elicits a hateful yell from the mob. The crimes are preposterous. How can these people believe them? How many of them have you helped? How many are alive because of you? More than even you know. And this is their gratitude.
On your knees, you look up at the man standing next to you, the one leading this travesty. He is the one they should hate. He is the one who will enslave them in their own lusts and indolence. Instead, they revere him as their savior.
You hang your head. So be it. The people wanted this. They will learn their error, and it will be too late. At least Emily got away. For that much, you are grateful.
Rough hands grab your hair. You are thrown onto the block. The axe is raised. The crowd, as one, breathe in sharply and hold it. No one moves. No one breathes. The sudden silence is eerie, but has a strangely proper note of finality to it. Guess there’s no getting out of this one.
You hear the axe fall. The world spins. Your vision blurs. Your thoughts blur. You think you hear applause, quickly fading into blackness.
…
Emily…
…
I love you…
You see yourself standing before the World Tree. It’s boughs spread high into the sky and farther into the horizon than you can see. It’s vast trunk towers before you, seemingly for miles on end. You look at the roots. They pulse with a life, each root as an individual. You recognize the myriad of roots before you as your own. You find your attention drawn to one in particular, and all the world fades to black until you can see only it.
Look at my memory.
What a strange device, you think to yourself. It’s like a hole that you can touch, that you can feel.
WEIRD!
You play with it gleefully, sticking various limbs through it and watching them come out of its pair on the other side of the room. You throw your ball through and catch it as it bounces off of the opposite wall. You move the hole to the floor and hop into it, marveling at how suddenly the world spins as you fall out of the wall. You jump through over and over again. What fun toys these wizards have! They’re not as dangerous as people said they would be!
Falling through yet again, you roll to your feet. Your eye catches something else you hadn’t noticed before, a bag with runes on it. You’ve seen one of these before! Jayne has one! What did he call it again? Bag of…healing? Herbing? No, that wasn’t it, he was just using it to hold all of his herbal reme—HOLDING! Bag of Holding! That was it!
Knowing that it could contain a house full of weird goodies, you upend it over the table. One of the metallic objects goes off when it hits the table, spraying out a brown gas cloud near with window. Near to panic, you grab a fan you found earlier and, with a single wave, send it sprawling out the window into the open air. A flock of birds flies immediately flies directly it as it intercepts their path. You feel bad seeing them all fall asleep and plummet towards the ground. You’re very high up. You hope they’re okay. Maybe I should be a little more careful, you think.
Footsteps! Someone is coming! You begin hastily throwing everything back into the bag. The door flies open and a gruff old man bursts in. You can tell by his robes that it’s one of the wizards! “What is the meaning of…,” his words trail off as he sees you grab the magic hole. His eyes go wide as you toss it into the bag.”
“Tiny Gods, NO! Don’t
