Long ago, there lived an orc. Shunned by his kind for using magic, and shunned by sorcerers for his beastly looks, he traveled from city to city, searching for a place to call home.
One day, he crossed paths with a strange creature: A fellow like himself, walking on two feet and using his hands to carry his things, but with the horns, ears, and snout of a bull.
At first the orc was afraid: the creature was unlike anything he’d ever seen. But the bull-person was kind and introduced himself as a wandering sorcerer who sought to bring good deeds to the world through magic.
They spoke with each other, and discovered they were heading in the same direction. The bull asked to travel with the orc, and they passed the time talking of magic and the things they each hoped to accomplish someday.
But before they could reach their destination, a terrible storm descended upon them.
Together, they took shelter while waiting for the storm to pass. During the day, the orc showed the bull how to hunt for food. During the night, the bull told the orc of his brethren.
He was from an ancient order that believed sorcery was a gift from a benevolent deity, given to the people of the world to help lift each other up. But the people used it to hurt each other and seek power only for themselves. He and his brothers and sisters wanted to show that sorcery could be used for good, to turn the people of the world toward helping each other.
The orc was unsure. He had never considered where sorcery had come from. He was looking for knowledge, and he wasn’t sure if that was worth the trouble of investigating. But he listened, for there was nowhere else to go with the storm raging outside.
During the nights, when the bull did not have the energy to speak anymore, they held each other until they fell asleep.
After the storm passed, they resumed their travels until their paths diverged. The bull told the orc where to find his order’s stronghold, in case he ever decided to join. The orc thanked him for the company and the information, and said he would consider it.
Years passed, and the orc never met the bull in his travels.
On a lonely night, the orc thought of the bull and decided to visit the stronghold. Perhaps not to join, but at least to see his old friend again.
When he arrived, he discovered that each of the members of the order took the form of a bull. It was to honor their deity who had the same image, according to their texts. The bull embodied strength, and through that strength they could sow kindness throughout the world.
He learned that each of the members of the order willingly took the form of the bull through sorcery, a transformation the orc had seen before.
But when the orc asked about his old friend, none of the members of the order could remember him.
It was only when the orc searched for his friend’s name in the dusty old texts in their stronghold that he discovered the truth.
His old friend had died protecting a small village on the other side of the world. The people of the village sent money and gifts to the order to thank them for his sacrifice, and they placed a memorial for him in the village.
Filled with melancholy, the orc found himself surprised at how the news affected him.
He remembered the bull telling him of his dreams and aspirations, to change the world through his deeds and the works of his brothers and sisters. Dreams unfulfilled, desires unrealized. And in all his years, the orc had yet to meet someone as pure and noble as his old friend.
In another time, another life, perhaps, the orc would have mourned and passed through, to continue living his life in the pursuit of knowledge.
But that day, he made a decision to change his life. He asked to join the order of his old friend, if they would have him.
They welcomed him, asking him to make the same promise as the rest of them, and in return, giving him shelter and purpose. To use his strength and magic for the good of the world.
They gave the orc the form of the bull, like the others, and they asked him to choose a new name to reflect his new life.
He thought of his old friend, with a name that none of them remembered.
He thought of the memorial across the world, the name etched to honor a sacrifice.
He wanted to make sure that that name would not be forgotten.
His decision was made.
His name was Carris.
Orcanist 