PART XIX - TAZROK’S CALL OF NATURE
Tazrok and Melga sat under the meditation tree, their eyes closed. Occasionally, one or the other would open one eye just long enough to check on what the other person was doing, making sure they hadn’t won the ad hoc contest. The feeling in the air was one of excitement, now that Tazrok’s glum mood had ceased. Rowani finally had to put her foot down, ordering all four Druids to sit quietly and say nothing, in the hopes Tazrok and Melga could get their final forms soon.
After a few minutes of meditative quiet, Tazrok began to sing. The sound was low and melodic, sounding much like slow, hypnotic chant. The notes were clear, and one could almost hear multiple harmonized notes produced from deep within Tazrok’s body and throat with each breath. The music took on a flowing tribal rhythm, and the Ogre’s tones seemed to sweep everyone into a warm embrace, carrying them gently along with no particular destination.
Rowani had never heard such a song, having no knowledge of Ogre customs or tribal chants, and was about to stop him so everyone could focus. But as she walked by Melga, the Dwarf held out a hand and stopped the Catkin. Shaking her head quickly, she whispered, “this is helping.” The trainer looked at the other two recruits, seeing they had calmed as well, each entranced by Tazrok.
And so Tazrok sang, filling the clearing with the soft, low song of the Ogres. And while the atmosphere became much less jovial, it seemed to invite a unity among all five Druids, and an introspective unity with the world around them. Rowani couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t started the day with this, because if they had, all the recruits would have had their four forms by noon.
Tazrok won the contest, his final Striker form quietly coming to him as he chanted. He stopped his singing, ready to gloat to Melga, but she looked at him, and said simply, “Congratulations, please continue if you would.”
“Of course, we would be happy to,” Tazrok said as he bit back the barb he was going to use, and returned to singing out the inspiring song of his people.
Trainer Rowani herself sat a short distance away enjoying a warm beam of sunlight, trying to understand the effects of what Tazrok was doing. It seemed much like the strange power similar to Command Aura the Major had described when the Recruits had arrived, and what he apparently used at his discipline assembly. What had Thorn called it? Chieftain’s Inspiration? Rowani wasn’t sure about the ‘Chieftain’ part, but the music was certainly proving to be inspiring, in its own unique way. She closed her eyes, deciding not to analyze it any more right now, and just see what happened.
The clearing slowly became a field of solemnity, Tazrok’s strange magics flowing outwards like a sphere. Small animals quietly emerged from the woods. Some nibbled on grasses, while others simply lay down in the bright sun. As everyone had their eyes closed, nobody noticed the small creatures, but then a crack of a stick breaking wrested Rowani’s attention from her introspection. A white shape slipped through the brush on the clearing’s edge, followed by a second smaller shape. Hesitantly, it emerged from the forest, taking a few careful steps forward.
She was of the purest of whites, with a slightly-glowing silver-colored horn on her head. Rowani had never seen one, only paintings or heard descriptions, and the creature was absolutely beautiful. With a bound, a small, Unicorn foal leaped from the brush and joined its mother, bending its neck to the ground for a tuft of grass, its own horn tiny in comparison to its mother’s.
“Nobody move or make a sound,” Rowani ordered quietly. “Tazrok, keep singing.” Quiet gasps went up as the recruits opened their eyes to see why, and saw the Unicorns.
Unicorns were rare. Extremely rare. Even more rare than Symbiotes. Most would never see one in their lifetime, and likely only if they were to look hard for one. Even then, that seach might yield only the briefest of glimpses. A Unicorn’s horn was a precious item, capable of healing with merely a touch, so highly sought for that reason and for use as wands. Unfortunately, the creatures were tracked and hunted, not just for the healing horn, but because a Unicorn’s blood would restore youth, and was used to aid those who had lost years to aging attacks from undead. Even armor made from its hide would protect from magic.
The larger Unicorn stomped her hoof several times, perhaps in warning, and then slowly began to circle the tree, keeping a distance as she did. The smaller one bounced happily around, staying reasonably close to its parent, while keeping suspicious eyes warily on the Druids sitting nearby. Finally, the mother stopped and settled down into the tall, sunlit grass, folding her legs under herself as she watched.
“What do we do?” Bratig whispered.
“Nothing!” Rowani hissed, trying not to spook the creatures. “Just … nothing.”
And so they did nothing for several minutes, just taking in the experience.
“I … I got my last form,” Melga whispered, as she gazed at the Unicorns in the clearing. “Just now.”
“Excellent,” Rowani whispered. “Tazrok, please keep singing.”
Tazrok continued his deep guttural chanting, all five pairs of Druid eyes staring at the pair of Unicorns looking back at them. It was a moment in time for all of them, an experience they knew was impossible to happen, yet had somehow graced them. Wallir slowly reached out and took Melga’s hand. She looked up at him, seeing a tear of wonderment in his eye, and lay her head on his shoulder, a tear forming in her own. It wasn’t really meant as a romantic gesture for either of them, but just the sharing of a precious moment of wonder between two people.
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For several more minutes Tazrok sang, and nobody moved or spoke. The larger of the beautiful creatures kept careful watch, while the foal scampered around, sometimes startling a Jackalope or other critter, or stopping to nibble on something tasty. It even followed a butterfly for a while, until it started to fly towards the Druids and got too close for the young Unicorn’s comfort.
With a sudden quiet, Tazrok stopped his singing, a confused expression on his face. He looked at the other recruits, and then at Trainer Rowani. “Trainer, it’s quite strange, we just received another form,” he said quietly, shock evident in his voice.
“What? How?” Rowani whispered.
“Which one?” Wallir asked.
“Draft Form,” the Ogre replied.
While they were trying to keep their voices quiet, the sudden noise of the multiple surprised whispers, coupled with the cessation of Tazrok’s singing, was enough to spook the Unicorns. The foal shot for the woods, bounding over a bush as it plunged into the undergrowth. The mother trotted quickly to the edge of the clearing, never removing her gaze from the Druids. The Unicorn stopped, stomped the ground several times with her front left leg as a final statement of annoyance before walking into the forest after her foal, the bright white quickly lost among the trees.
The experience suddenly over, all attention now focused on the Ogre.
“I thought we only get four forms?” Bratig asked Rowani.
“At Iron Tier, four is all you should get,” Rowani said, her face showing perplexion. “You’ll get additional at higher Tiers, but I’ve never heard of Draft form. I’m not even sure what it is.”
Rowani thought for a moment, and then said, “I’m going to break tradition just this one time, because I don’t want this one to be a surprise later. Tazrok, please walk into the clearing and assume this ‘Draft’ form, if you would.”
With trepidation, Tazrok left the shade of the tree, and walked several meters away. This would be his first time assuming an animal form, and while Rowani made the transformation seem easy, his dreadful casting of Healing Berry crept into his head. He took his position and stilled his mind, which wandered back to the two Unicorns that had just visited them. The thought of the two creatures gave Tazrok a sense of connection to everything around him; the clearing, the solitary tree at its center, and the forest itself.
WILD FORM - DRAFT
The Ogre opened his eyes, and realized he was different. Holding up one of his hands, he saw he actually didn’t have one. He had a huge, wide hoof of some kind, and his arm … now his front leg … was covered with long hair. He looked to his friends, and saw all four, including his Trainer, standing under the tree with shocked expressions on their faces. Concerned he made a mistake, he turned his head, trying to look behind himself. It was hard, though, his massive body was in the way; his massive hair-covered body. Annoyed, he swished his tail in frustration, then realized he now had a tail to swish.
Rowani's head was a mixture of so many emotions. Shock, confusion, and surprise chief among them. Iron Tier Druids only got four forms, so the fact that Tazrok received a fifth couldn’t be explained by anything she knew. This ‘Draft’ form was also one she had never heard of, and the creature in front of her was an amazing sight to behold.
Tazrok had transformed into a Brontorn, a creature often used by trade caravans to move merchandise long distances. These massive animals, often weighing over twelve tonnes, hailed from the plains far to the west and thus were never spotted in this vicinity, except when traveling with said caravans. Standing at a height of almost four meters at the shoulder, and draped in shaggy hair, Brontorns moved at a slow, leisurely pace but possessed the strength and stamina to bear or pull immense loads almost indefinitely.
Rowani broke away from the group and approached Tazrok. Deep black eyes looked at her, and she saw a hint of fear in them. The Brontorn had two massive, long, curved horns, one on either side of his head, which in turn had an enormous mouth large enough to easily hold the entire head of a person.
“You have become a Brontorn, Tazrok,” Rowani finally said, putting a hand on the side of her student’s transformed head.
Tazrok-the-Brontorn suddenly had a flashback. When he was a child, his grandmother told him stories of when she was a little girl herself, growing up in the Great Plains. Her family raised Brontorn, using the milk, hair, meat and hide. When the herd got too big, they would bring them to the city to sell or trade for other goods they needed back home. After her marriage, she and her new husband chose to move to the city, being allowed to take a handful of the creatures with them to sell and have enough to start a new life. It was also Tazrok’s grandmother that had taught him the guttural, harmonic throat singing technique he had used earlier, saying it was an important part of Ogre tradition that he had to know and pass on when he had children of his own.
Tazrok could see how this was, indeed, a correct form for him, even if he had no idea why he had received a fifth, when Druids should only receive four.
“Are you alright?” Rowani asked, seeing a far off look in the Brontorn’s deep-black eyes.
The creature responded with a long, low moaning call, as if to acknowledge the Catkin. Confused, the Brontorn made several other noises, as if trying to talk.
“You cannot speak in this form,” the Trainer said with a chuckle. “But nod your head if you understand.”
In response, Tazrok nodded his massive head.
Melga approached, looking up at the gigantic beast. It was nearly four times her height, and she only came up roughly to the knee of one of Tazrok’s Brontorn legs. “He’s so … big!” she said, gesturing to point out the obvious.
The Brontorn made a series of grunts, which everyone quickly realized was an attempt at laughing.
“Okay,” Rowani finally said, her own laughter in her words. “Please change back into your normal form.”
Tazrok thought back to the beginning of the day, when he had learned the ‘rules’ for Wild Form. Now he just needed to remember how to turn back into an Ogre. He did not want to be stuck as this huge beast, after all.
WILD FORM - NONE
Opening his eyes, Tazrok once again saw he had his normal hands. He was no longer covered in long hair, and no longer had a tail to swish around. He looked down at Melga and Rowani, gave them both a big smile, simply saying, “Am back.”