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Draug the half-orc had always called the walls of Ironrock home. The bustling trade city sat at the northern end of the Great Road where it ran into the sea. He'd been left, abandoned as a babe on the street, when the old blacksmith had found him. From that day on, Draug had been raised as his apprentice.
Half breeds weren't always welcomed by the humans that ruled Ironrock, the Northerners were suspicious of anything they found different. Luckily, Draug grew up under the blacksmith guild's protection keeping him mostly safe as he grew up. He was also fortunate to be born with mostly human features. Other than a slightly darker hue to his skin and the typical dark, straight black hair of his kind, Draug could have been mistaken for a very tall, very muscular human. Really the only thing that would reveal his orc heritage was hidden safely under his trousers...
It was a hot midsummer day as Draug worked the forge that sat along the Great Road, just outside of Ironrock's fortified walls. He'd worked nearly through the night on a very special and very expensive rush order. His new patron was due any day now to pick up the order and everything had to be perfect.
Once the piece was finally finished, the exhausted smith wandered inside the shop, escaping the heat of the day. Making his way to a nearby chair, Draug slumped down into the worn and comfortable furniture. He was looking forward to some long overdue rest when a knock at the door startled him. He tried his best to ignore it but after nearly a minute of hurried knocking, he begrudgingly rose from his seat and crossed the hardwood floor to answer the door. "What!" He asked swinging the front door open wide.
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