Ordanil tensed as he realized just how tough an opponent he was facing. He knew of course, that he would have to be prepared for whatever comes today. But he did not know just how great that challenge would be.
“You’re going down Dan!!!” Darek screamed his battle cry in his young, unbroken voice as the boy charged forwards. Not to be outdone, Dan shouted his own mad battle cry and met Darek’s charge by lowering his small frame and bracing his feet against he ground. The two boys wrestled with their arms locked, each attempting to unbalance the other and drive him to the ground. Darek is bigger than Ordanil is, even if only slightly. The rest of the children cheered them on from the edge of the sandbox.
Matron Kristin watched from the kitchen doorway with a smile on her face. She is the mother, guardian, arbiter as well as teacher at her orphanage. As she gave instructions to the cook on what to make for dinner, she gently wipes the symbol of the Sun God Pelor that hangs about her neck while keeping an ever watchful eye on the two boys.
Ordanil made a misstep and is thrown to the floor. Darek jumped up and down in the sand in triumph, and his supporters rushed forward and swarmed around him. A dejected Ordanil walks off back to the orphanage building, his eyes on the floor.
“Another time, Dan,” Matron Kristin spoke from her doorway. “Mildy won’t be the only girl you’ll want to impress.” Ordanil looked up at her, tears brimming in his eyes. He felt shame as it was he who had challenged the bigger boy. Yet again, Matron Kristin could see completely through his bravado. “There there. I was rooting for you. But fret not. You have a bright and special future before you,” she cajoled gently.
“You say that to everyone,” Ordanil protested, wiping his tears hurriedly as he heard the other kids approaching. The Matron simply winked.
=====
“Here. Put it down here,” Ordanil and Darek panted as they lowered the stack of planks they were carrying onto the storeroom floor. “Thanks so much for buying this for the orphanage Darek.”"No problem… Dan… old… friend…” Darek managed between breaths.”So how is life as an adventurer?” Ordanil asked as they walked through the kitchen.
“Quite good. Money comes quite easily if you don’t get yourself killed. Also the satisfaction of meeting and helping people,” Darek answered.
“I’m just glad you still remember this place.”
“This is still home, friend. Haha – I can hear the Matron’s familiar voice in the common room.”
“Always remember how the gift of light from the Sun preserves the cycle of life on our world. If you ever feel lost or alone in the world, lift your face to the keeper of life and feel the gentle warmth. Remember that part of your life that you’ve had here and remember the love around you,” the Matron’s voice grew louder as they approached.
“HA! But Jack hates me!” a child’s voice shouted.
“No I don’t!” another voice countered!
“He does too! He keeps bullying me!” the original voice insisted.
As the two men stepped into the common room, deeply engaged in conversation, the children screamed with delight.
“UNCLE DAR! UNCLE DAN!” the kids stood up from the work they were doing with Matron Kristin and ran to intercept the two men. Darek was quickly overwhelmed by the children as he sat down to speak with them, as Ordanil walked over to the Matron.
“They miss him so don’t they,” Ordanil said with a smile on his face.
“Yes they do indeed,” Matron Kristine replied. “He turns this place into a circus whenever he returns.”
Age has been kind to the matron. The term ‘aging gracefully’ couldn’t apply more accurately to anyone else. Ordanil himself had taken over most of the day to day operations of the orphanage after Darek left some years ago to pursue adventure and excitement. Dan and Dar have been quite the pair, and the older children have clearly not forgotten their Uncle Dar.
“I’m going to head out and fetch the carpenter. We’ve carried in the wood that Darek bought for us,” Ordanil informed the matron.
“Very well Dan. See you later,” the matron replied.
=====
Ordanil dropped the toolbox he was carrying for the carpenter. Huge plumes of smoke was rising from behind the hill, and a wounded, no, dead man lay crumpled on the dirt road ahead of him. He broke into a sprint, past the body, over the hill, and he was met by flames.The entire town area on this side of the hill is ablaze! Townsfolk was running around in panic, some carrying buckets of water, some clutching wounds gashed open by weapons, others simply too stunned to act. But he was oblivious to all that. Ordanil’s eyes wandered across the charred wooden buildings, and rested on the orphanage some distance away. The children! He broke into a run.Lying face down in a pool of his own blood across the small path leading to the orphanage’s main door was Darek, still gripping his bloodstained longsword. Several dead orcs lay to his left and right. Darek had not gone down without a fight. No one else was around. Even as the hope is draining from his soul, he approached Darek’s body, dreading to find out if he was still alive.
Darek moved. Ordanil quickly walked up. His old friend reached out and grabbed Ordanil’s wrist with the last of his strength as he turned himself over.
“I’m sorry…” Darek’s eyes tried to focus on Ordanil’s face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t… protect them.”
=====
Matron Kristin once told him that as a baby, he was dropped off by an elf. She wasn’t given any details on how he was orphaned. The only link he has to his past was a decidedly elven name given by the elf – Ordanil. He was not given a family name. Even that had faded over the years as he was eventually referred to as simply Dan. That was the name he truly identified with – the name that meant love, giving and caring. And that too was taken from him two years ago. The image of the small, charred bodies that greeted him as he kicked open the barred door to the burning orphanage still haunted him till this day.
Ordanil adjusted his armor to a more comfortable position, and picked up his heavy mace resting on the grass. His eyes burned with a fierce passion as he muttered prayers under his breath, his hand clutching the symbol of St. Cuthbert closely to his heart. His weapon and armor glowed briefly as they received the divine providence of his God.”CHARGE!” the shouted order came from some vegetation to his left. Several armor clad figures burst out from the undergrowth and quickly overwhelmed the two orcs guarding the entrance to the hillside cave. Ordanil himself swung his weapon without mercy bringing down two orcs that were coming out to check out the commotion.
The cave appears to be a complex system of tunnels. As the warriors and clerics charged into the orc lair they spread out thinner and thinner as there were more and more tunnels to cover. Finally Ordanil found himself alone, walking through a dark tunnel. A brief prayer brought the glorious light of his deity to his mace, lighting up the passage ahead.
The tunnel suddenly widened into a cave. A single orc woman blocked the way with no shields and no armor. Four orc children huddled behind her. She held a club before her, and said something in the gutteral language which Ordanil has heard only too often. Too often. “Is she treatening me?” Ordanil wondered. “Does it matter?” He snarled as he raised his mace and swung it hard before him, knocking her to the side and against the wall of the cave. She did not move again. Her children snarled and backed away to the end of the cave as Ordanil continued to advance.
Retribution. Is. Mine. Ordanil’s mace went to work. He did not notice as the blessed luster on his armor begin to diminish. He did not feel his mace grow heavy and clumsy as the guidance of his God faded away. As he swung his mace the fourth time, the bright glow of his spell on the mace faded and he is plunged into complete darkness, not unlike the darkness he felt in his heart.
=====
“Goodbye Ordanil. We are sorry to see you go, but there is no mistake about it,” High Priest Anton was kind enough to have escorted him to the gate.Ordanil quietly bowed to the leader of the church which he has served for two years. He had lost the favor of his God. What were the exact words of the augur… “We have cared for you for so long, but we cannot heal your heart. You belong to another.” That was what he said while under the thralls of his divine communing spell. It became necessary after it was clear that his atonement was rejected by St. Cuthbert. It was as he had feared. The pain of having lost all that he loved and cared for is burning up what is left of his soul. As darkness claimed him, he did not know where to turn, how to escape its clutches. He was utterly lost despite his own best efforts to make sense of it all.
He walked away from the church of St. Cuthbert and let his feet guide his steps. He is homeless once again, and he did not have anywhere to be. He wandered aimlessly around town with his head held low, studying the ground as though it may hold the answer to his suffering. Suddenly, he realized that the ground was familiar. He looked up – his feet had brought him back to the orphanage. He had not returned here for two years, afraid to feel the emotions that is now raging up inside him. Pain, anger, hatred, home, love, loss…
The L shape of the orphanage building can still be seen on the charred ground. His feet led him right to the middle of what used to be the common room. Most of the ash had blown away over the years, leaving behind the heavier blocks of black, charred wood. The glinting of metal in the sun caught his eye. He bent down and pushed away several planks of wood and found three medallions bearing the shining face of Pelor, untouched by the fire, protected from the black smear of the burnt wood.
One was old and worn, but clean and polished. Was it the matron’s own medallion?
The other two were new, its edges still rough, carved out by the artisan that produced the pattern in the metal. Ordanil turned the medallions around as his fingers felt the carvings on the back. One was carved with his name Dan, and the other Dor. As Ordanil gripped them tightly, one made an audible click. Inside both medallions was carved a simple message. “Always find my love as you walk under the light of the Sun. M. Kristin”
As the torrent of tears washed clear his vision, he lifted his face into the sky and felt the warm caress of the Sun for the first time after two long, dark years.
