Zombies in History
Dreoilin never really meant to become a sneaky bastard, that’s just how things worked out.
Dreoilin was born into one of the most magically powerful families in a town famous for producing magically powerful families. He was the eighth child born to Diedre and Connal Reathai, and had three older brothers and four older sisters. The fact that the family had an even number of children was supposed to be indicative of good luck. But ‘supposed to be’ is a nice way of saying that it wasn’t.
All of Dreoilin’s brothers and sisters were naturally gifted, they showed that they had druidic talent and promised to be powerful leaders someday. Diedre and Connal had hoped the same for Dreoilin, but by the time he was five years old they knew that he had no druidic ability whatsoever. They tried to keep the fact that he was different from Dreoilin, going so far as to make him think that he actually had magical ability to save face among the other families in the area. It worked for a few years, but eventually Dreoilin was exposed as having no cumhacht, or muscle, for magic.
The family fell in social stature after the community realized that their bloodline was not magically pure, and Dreoilin’s older brothers and sisters and the town’s people began to resent him. Understandably, Dreoilin began spending time away from the town, choosing to spend his days exploring the hills and valleys surrounding his home. After all, who would want to hang around in a town where you’re a second class citizen and in a home where you’re the cause of the families loss of power? While he was out, away from the watchful eyes of his parents, his brothers and sisters and even the other town’s folk would cause Dreoilin mischief, and so Dreoilin learned to hide himself from druids. Do you know how hard it is to hide from a tree? It’s not easy, let me tell you. Dreoilin often used disguises and camouflage to hide from nature itself. Admittedly, it was rough going at first and he made a lot of mistakes, but eventually Dreoilin got to the point where he was sneaky enough that he could cause mischief back. Dreoilin became a regular terror, gathering gossip about members of the most reputable houses and using it to sow discord among the town’s “high families”. Some of the most fun Dreoilin ever had were the days of his eleventh and twelfth years, running amok in all sorts of new and exciting ways.
And so, like all good hero tales, there must be something to push our protagonist from his home.
One day while our young rogue was out in the fields he noticed that there was someone following him, he didn’t think anything of it at first, but he did begin to try to evade the – well, whatever it was. Tricky thing, he couldn’t get away! No matter how long he ran away from this thing, it kept following him. Dreoilin began to treat this thing as a challenge, he tried all of his best hiding spots, but it still kept hounding him. Finally Dreoilin began to get annoyed and eventually scared. As night settled, he decided that it would be best to get home.
The slavers came in the night, burned down the village and killed anyone too weak for hard labor. You could say that it was fortunate that Dreoilin was the strongest of his brothers and sisters, or you could say that it was unfortunate for them. Either way, the entire family was slaughtered and Dreoilin was forced to watch. The slavers took him onto a great ship and bound him in chains. They sailed for many days and entered into a climate that was wholly unfamiliar to Dreoilin. The food was rancid, and the heat of the ship was enough to make the rogue dreadfully ill and weakened him.
He was sold in a foreign port to a harsh master. The air was hot and the land was dry, so very different from his home. Dreoilin’s master was a powerful noble, who had paid highly for such an oddity as a white slave. Dreoilin was treated horribly, constantly beaten and insulted, especially by his master’s beautiful daughter, Adalet. He grew to hate her, not only because she was so cruel to him but because he found her to be the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon.
He slowly learned the language of his masters, and learned enough to argue with Adalet, who was surprised to find that her slave had such a sharp wit. She began to enjoy arguing with him more than beating him, and began to treat him better, if for no other reason than to annoy her father. Eventually the two began to respect each other. Dreoilin realized that Adalet was capable of empathy and she realized that she was bored with her life and wanted more excitement. Two years passed and the pair developed an odd sort of friendship, highly inappropriate and against all laws, but it was what it was.They would sit for hours, Dreoilin entertaining her with different costumes and stories of the fun he had as a boy.
He never realized that he had feelings for her until she was married off to Zafer Aziz, a man more wicked than any Dreoilin had ever seen. Adalet was allowed to bring one slave with her to her new house, and she chose to take Dreoilin with her, much to the chagrin of her father (which she especially enjoyed). Zafer was a savage, he treated his servants horribly, killing them for sport, and would have killed Dreoilin, were it not for Adalet’s intervention. After that Zafer was much more consious of the bond that his wife and that slave held. He became hostile towards Adalet, beating her as he did his slaves, sometimes nearly to her death. Dreoilin hated Zafer mightily.
One night Adalet came to Dreoilin sobbing, she took his hand and told him that he was a free man, and then walked away. Dreoilin didn’t know what to make of the event, as puzzling as it was. He walked through the house to Adalet’s quarters and decided to tell her of the love that had developed in his heart. He found her at her window and they talked briefly. They decided that they would be better for the both of them if they escaped together. As they were getting ready to leave, Zafer entered Adalet’s quarters only to see the two holding hands. He flew into a rage, drew his sword and ran it through Adalet, spilling her lifeblood. Dreoilin stood in horror as the love of his life died slowly on the floor. Zafer spit on her body and turned to kill Dreoilin, but Dreoilin was a quick man, and was able to disarm the enraged man and proceeded to beat him until his face was little more than a pulp. Dreoilin picked up the sword that had slain his love and cut Zafer’s throat, but somehow the fiend continued to breathe! Try as he might, Dreoilin could not kill the man. He fled the house, donning a disguise and taking to the streets. He swore that someday he would find out why he could not kill Zafer, and then fix the problem. Permanently.