Dreve Harrier

[Bonfire]

Name: Dreve Harrier
Age: Early Twenties
Race: Human - Tethyrian
Physical Appearance: Green eyes, dark brown hair, pale skin, fairly tall, build is slim/wiry
Class: Shaman

Childhood - Dreve was born to the runners of caravan, Garth and Trianna, on the year of 1347, a sickly child raised during an uncertain time. The family lived in their wagons, going from settlement to settlement taking what jobs they could from whoever was seeking their services. From smuggling out low titled nobles to helping move plunder from estates and manors. They had to make a living, care for their mostly bed ridden son, and caravan hands to pay. One such hand was Dope, an old Half Orc who did much of the heavy lifting when it came to labor. Dope had a gentle and slow nature, soon becoming part of the family as Dreve's caretaker while his parents dealt with caravan duties. While under the care of Dope, Dreve would finally see more than just the inside of the wagon. Often riding on Dope's shoulders during travel, Dreve would see the blurry figures of soldiers, peasants, bandits, and more. It all amazed him but that soon changed when the Time of Troubles began. Whatever condition he had worsened with this event. Seizures, comatose periods, blindness, and delirium. Dope would stay by the bedside for most days now, speaking to the boy in orcish, chanting words of strength and prayers. Dreve continued to hang on, his frail body only sustained through natural medicine and alchemical tonics. Soon there would be a change.

The Longest Year - With the total disappearance of magic, Dreve began to recover from his illness. No longer having seizures or delirium, being able to live without medication, eat on his own, dress himself, get up, move around. In fact he started to feel better than before. His vision cleared, his body didn't hurt, senses became sharper, growth spurts, strength started to build, everything started to improve as the world seemed to crumble further. Dreve would continue to grow, explore, and cause Dope to trouble with his constant curiosity.

Magic's Slow Return - Dreve, now in his teens, has sprouted up like a weed. Still under the watchful eye of Dope, he's learned much of the aged half orc's duties for the caravan. He always yearned for more though. Staying out late to explore towns and villages they stop at, staring in awe at valuable goods, and quality items butting into conversations of news and far off lands. One such news was the rumors of returning magics and the vileness they bring. Dreve felt a sudden dread, a deep piercing feeling. His parents had attributed his recovery to the undoing of magic, whatever curse was on him had been lifted. With the whispers of it's return, what would happen to him?

 

[Bonfire]

Dreams and Awakening - Dreve's worry began to take him, affecting his mood, his thoughts, his life. He'd repeatedly had terrible nightmares of his body aging, withering, and then rotting away. Confiding in Dope what he was experiencing, the old half orc pondered and fetched a bottle, it had a distinct emerald fairy on it. Dope handed it to Dreve and encouraged him to drink, stating in broken common. "Drink it all, for good sleep."

Dreve soon blacked out after, experiencing the same dream again but he did not stir awake from terror, the dream continued. His body rotting away and then from the dust, sprouts began to appear, grass, plants, bugs, mushrooms, the days began to speed by, day night day night day night. The sky beginning to form reptilian scales made of blue sky, clouds, storms, and stars. It whipped by until what felt like ages past, then came to a stand still. A young man walked up to the site of his death, it was Dreve, again. He saw himself lay down in the same spot he had rotted away. He started to talk, but only a snake's hiss was heard. Out of his mouth a many colored snake slithered out, moving away from him and outlining a circle around Dreve's laying body. The hissing became louder and the snake began to race after it's own tail. Dreve closed his eyes, and then his body began to age and wither again. The dream returning to the start, the hissing in his head becoming more painful until Dreve's eyes finally opened and his stomach turned, vomiting all over the inside of the wagon. After that night Dreve didn't experience the dreadful feeling when sleeping, he still would sometimes experience that same dream but with differences. Sometimes fire would erupt from the earth and consume him, or a giant wave would come crashing down and split his body apart. Sometimes he'd be a deer, or a boar, animals he had never seen before, even people. The many colored snake was a constant though, always creating it's ring.

​

Dreve often caught himself thinking about that ring, sometimes even creating them himself. Walking in circles and dragging his feet, weaving strands of grass together while on the road, whittling rings out of wood near the dinner fires, this went on for a long while. Then one day while walking alongside the caravan he watched a wagon wheel snap, the spokes cracked, the ring broken. In a stupor Dreve got down to his knees and placed his hands on the broken wooden wheel, hissing in his ears. He muttered something and took his hands away from the wheel, the fracture now fixed, mended. Getting to his feet he shook himself, his deed finally registering. He quickly shouted to the driver. "Just a pothole. Keep going. It's fine!" The wheel held, the caravan continued on, all but Dreve, and Dope, who had been along side him the entire time. Dope would not speak to Dreve from that point on, the old half orc shrinking away from Dreve whenever he approached. One night, Dreve was woken up by Dope flinging open his tent and throwing in a bundle. Dope held an axe in his hand, pointing it at Dreve then to the pack, then to open wilderness. "You must leave." He said. Dreve felt anger at first, then sadness, then a knowing feeling that Dope was right, that he wanted to leave himself. Dreve quickly got his things together. Wrote a simple note with charcoal and canvas, explaining that he needed to leave, find his own life, mentioned no magic, and that he would leave them letters at Trademeet. Dreve then left the caravan, trying to follow whatever feeling he could.