There’s a reason why I never played Oronil as a feral, I suck at it. But I also had to find something ic to make her not want to shift into a kitty or bear. It might not be lore accurate, but I’m pretty content with the outcome of this story 🙂
Several years had past and living with Ravenmane was hard but interesting. He was like a father to her, but he was also a strict mentor. He had taken her under his wing when her mother had died. He had given her a month to get used to living in her new home, but then he started his training. Her destiny was to become a druid. Oronil had heard of them and had seen some of them. They were impressive and she liked how they worked with nature. But soon she had found out that the training of becoming one was a lot harder then she had ever imagined. He showed her the animals and the trees, the flowers and all the plants. He tought her how to fight and how to defend herself. Often she was bruised and losing blood after Ravenmane showed her how easily she could be killed. Over and over again.
She knew that crying and whining wouldn’t help her. So instead she just bit her lip and learned to live with the pain.
It was a quiet night when something came to her mind. Ravenmane was sitting in his big chair, reading a book. Oronil stared into the fire, trying to figure out how to begin her question. “Make up your mind, young one, either you ask the question or you don’t.” Ravenmane had noticed her mouth going open and closing over and over again, each time she wanted to start her question but had stopped herself.
Oronil sighed. “I remember when I was little and you visited us. You said something about my blood, something about my father.. and why was my path already chosen for me? Why didn’t my mother want to tell me who my father was? Is he still alive? How did my mother die?” The questions just rolled out of her mouth. Ravenmane listened to all of them and waited until she was done.
“You’re old enough now to know the truth. But we have to start at the beginning. I you’re your father when he was still young. He was a good friend of mine, a druid like me. He loved his feral abilities as much as I love my healing ones. Your parents were the perfect couple and they quickly got married. But during that time his hunger for power had grown. He wanted to be the best feral fighter ever. And his hunger took him to Felwood. Nature is corrupt in that place and your father started to experiment with the plants and the animals. Trying to find a potion or something else that could improve his strength, his ferocity. He had succeeded, but he had to pay a high price for it. He became just as corrupted as nature in Felwood. In the beginning I didn’t notice. Yes, he was acting differently, but nothing that really worried me. Apperantly some other elves found out and he tried to bribe them. They agreed on keeping his secret save if he’d agreed in an arranged marriage for his daughter. You, Oronil. Your family of your fathers side was one with a lot of influence. And so was the family that wanted your hand in marriage to their son. Your mother wasn’t part of it. She found out later, when your father was already gone. Yes child, the druids found out. Or more correct, I did. It was my duty to tell our leaders about him. He was forming a danger to all of us. Not controlling his abilities, his strength, his lust for blood, he was a monster. We tried to capture him, but he fled. I don’t know what happened to him. Later your mother heard about the deal and she told the family that as long as she was around, she would stand in the way of the union. She also asked me to take care of you if something would happen to you. I am your guardian. Your mother was afraid that you would have inherited some of your fathers bloodlust. The corruption was already flowing through his veins when you were conceived. I never told her that I saw it once. You were young but one of the other children had angered you. I saw how you jumped on him and literally tried to kill him. Your claws were already out and you were slashing away. I grabbed you and pulled you away. You couldn’t remember anything after that. I never told her, because it would only worry her. I wanted to teach you how to handle those instincts, but it will be hard, and you’re just too young now. Now about your mothers death: your mother died on one of her hunting trips. A group of Satyrs jumped her and tore her apart. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to scare you at such a young age. Now I’m sure this story will only make you want to ask more questions. But there’s a time and place for everything, Oronil. And you had quite some information already. I suggest you go to bed and sleep. We have another hard day of work tomorrow.” And with that his gaze was back on the book. Oronil slowly got to her feet and walked to her room. She couldn’t remember how she had fallen asleep that night, but she remembered looking into her mirror once and how scared she was of herself.