Dembrek of the DRUX

Dembrek of the DRUX - Intro

Silently Dembrek crept from his hut. He didn't want to wake his mother so early. Nor did he want to answer the many questions she'd surely ask about why he was up before the sun, and why he was taking his father's sword with him.

Though still a young boy, he wanted to honor his family, his name, and take his place as man of the house. As hunter and protector. For him, and for his mother, the only family he had left. All he had were faint stories of his father and the magnificent sword he had left behind.

Careful to move quickly and unnoticed, he pulled the heavy blade along with him as he headed through the clearing and into the forest. He was going to practice. He was going to learn how to wield such a mighty sword. In doing so, he'd one day become champion of his tribe. But more than that, he'd honor his father, even if he wasn't around to see him.

When he had found a space amongst the trees to practice, he took one last look around. He did not want to be followed. It was his first time taking the thing out and he didn't want to embarrass himself as he learned how to maneuver such an incredible weapon.

When he was sure he was alone, he stopped and looked closely at his father's legacy, left behind when he returned to the stars. It was huge and powerful, elegant beyond words, and the way it curved this way, then twisted that, was an awe-inspiring thing. But beyond that, it was heavy. Very heavy. Almost too much for the young boy of the Original People to carry, let alone swing around.

He propped the thing on his shoulder as he prepared to prove his worth. With a shout, he swung it forward, only to drop it. He staggered a moment, then again picked up the blade, face tight, ready to do it right this time. As he twisted and gave it a swing, it whooshed the air in front of him as it left his hand and clinked to the ground. He too toppled over by the counterweight.

He stood quickly and picked it up again. "I can do this," he assured himself as he hoisted the huge piece of unnatural metal back up and onto his shoulder once more. He screamed the warrior's scream as he flung it forward, then spun it, then fired it across the invisible enemy in front of him.

Shocked to have held it so long, he dropped it again, then tumbled over it. As he sat up, his pitch eyes went wide as a smile crossed his little face. "I did it!" he cheered. He stood again as he propped the massive sword up on the blade tip, then spun it. Even the way it looked as it twirled was magnificent.

He looked up at the stars which were ready to retreat to the sun's call, wondering if his father could see him now. With a smile, he hoisted the blade up again and prepared to take each step he had to to become its master. With arms bulging little muscles, and a heart even stronger, he again swung that sword like nothing else in his world mattered more.

As he felt the weight and balanced it with his own, he now knew how to hold it without dropping it or toppling over. Now, he could swing such an amazing item all on his own. With pride across his face, he swung it this way, then that, all the while focused, determined, ready to keep it moving and him at the hilt. As his confidence grew, he lost his concentration and fell again, the sword bouncing across his head, causing him to wince.

A deep and hearty laugh followed his fall. He looked quickly, then scurried to his feet. His eyes went wide a moment, then serious and fierce.

Loud, mocking clapping followed the laugh as Dominick, former war chief of the Original People, walked in with a wicked smile on his face and a stagger in his step.

Dembrek stood firm.

"Well. What is this?" Dominick asked, excited to finally have this child alone.