Drabroth backstory

Having been raised in a rich, high class family of dragons on the advanced moon Vokser, Draturim had a relatively easy time growing up and pursuing skills and experiences that would benefit him in his bright future. His parents, two successful businessdragons responsible for revolutionising artificial crop growth across the galaxy, were generally loving and generous toward their son, supporting his hobbies of sports and music, and pushing him to study business, as he would be the heir to their legacy. As sweet as they seemed, Draturim was offered no choice for his future- sure, he would be allowed to spend his youth exploring and experiencing the local life, but ultimately he would end up in one position- leading his parents’ company. Naturally, Draturim felt pressured and repressed, like he was hurtling down a single path, his surroundings invisible in a motion blur, with no chance of slowing down or turning back. He always felt like there was a part of himself that he had not discovered, and if he were to express it, he would be met by disgust from his parents and friends.
It all became clear to him when his parents opened a discussion with Draturim about an arranged marriage, to a half-dragon lady of high prestige. “Joining our dynasties would grant us, and you, more power than you could ever dream of,” they would say. But what if he didn’t dream of power, but something else? All his life he had lived according to what his parents wanted, with safe hobbies that would result in a good reputation, and studying safe subjects that would be useful in a business career. Unfortunately, that wasn’t something he could easily express. He felt like he was acting entitled and ungrateful, thinking this way. He thought, why would anyone with such a high life be so unhappy?

Unable to face his parents, or himself, he ran away from his home, with only a cloak, his ukulele string to his back, and twelve platinum pieces in his pocket. He hopped onto the nearest train and allowed the thoughts and feelings he had pushed down for so long to emerge. I am crazy, he thought, I am an ungrateful, cowardly piece of shit. But what my parents want for me is just not who I am. If not that, then who am I?

Hours passed, and the train reached the end of the line. Mentally exhausted, Draturim finally left the empty train, finding himself on the edge of a vast cornfield, which stretched all the way past the horizon. It was odd, seeing such a natural world when the world he had grown up in was so technical. At last, as he stopped and stared at the orange-stained sky, and the corn that stood up on its own, he could see the path he once raced down, and an escape became apparent.

Draturim wanted to be free, and the only means in which to achieve freedom, was in death.

Upon the next train’s arrival, Draturim boarded with haste, and disembarked at the closest city, Okraina; a fairly suburban area, located on the outskirts of the moon’s civilisation. These cities weren’t utilising his parents’ technology so much as the old method of agriculture, so he felt a little more secure in a city that wasn’t under their direct control.

Draturim needed to die, and he needed to die fast. As he rushed into the illuminated city square, hood down, frantically looking for some inspiration, civilians began to notice his appearance. A brilliant blue dragon, in the flesh, stood out in the open? That could only mean he belongs to the most prestigious family in the star system. It began to click in their minds that, actually, this might be the missing son that had been consuming the news channels for the past few hours. Really, after one evening gone? Jeez, my parents are dicks, he thought.

“That’s Sir Draturim, right?” one voice would murmur.
“Do you think we should call security? Or what about the news reporters? This is a scoop!” another voice said.

That’s right. The news!

Draturim stomped over to the source of the second voice, and looked down upon his puny existence.

“Where?” Draturim practically breathed down the halfling’s throat as he spoke.

“W-where is what, S-sir?”

“The news. Take me to them.”

The halfling gulped, and began to waddle in the direction of a large building complex. He walked as if he had soiled his undergarments in pure fear of what the physically enormous and economically enormous dragon could do to him. Groaning, Draturim scooped up the tiny shaking thing and sprinted away from the ruckus.

“Is t-this what you were looking for?” the halfling said, almost pleading, as they arrived at the destination.

Draturim looked up at the skyscraper. Sure enough, this was a place that broadcasted local news. It would have to do.

“Thank you, small creature,” Draturim reached into his pocket and pulled out a platinum piece, and flicked it into the unsuspecting halfling’s hands, before making his way in.

“I have a scoop,” Draturim announced, as he approached the dumbfounded receptionist, “I have a scoop that will make your little news show into an intergalactic sensation!”

He smoothly leaned on the countertop, as the receptionist was already dialling on her phone.

Before he knew it, Draturim was shooting up an elevator, accompanied by two identical looking half-orc bodyguards. Upon reaching the top, the bodyguards
prompted Draturim to enter the room, wherein sat a rugged, middle aged elf at his enormous desk. He gestured toward Draturim to come closer with a forced smile, before returning his hand to beneath his nose.

“Sir Draturim, it is an honour and a privilege to be in your presence. I am Kendel, founder of Okraina news.” he spoke with grace, despite having a sullen, yet nervous look beneath all that hair.

Draturim slowly moved in on the desk before making his pitch:

“Listen, I know business. You don’t need to act all proper around me. There’s something I want, and I know I can help you, too, so let me tell you what’s going to happen.”

As Draturim made his position clear, Kendel tensed a little, but ultimately dropped his fake grin and leaned in closer.

“You broadcast news. Imagine if you had a scoop that would send the entire galaxy into a meltdown. That would be good for you, correct?”

Kendel pondered for a moment, and then nodded hesitantly.

“So, I have a proposal,” Draturim stepped back and in a theatrical manner, flicked his cloak, “we are going to fake my death!”

Kendel immediately burst into laughter, throwing himself back into his chair and clutching at his stomach.
“No way, you are way too high profile for that. I’d love to help, really, in fact- it would be a dream come true to make a breakthrough in this field, but I’d be risking everything. You know they’d kill me for something like this?” he spluttered, tears in his eyes.

“They’ll never find out. I’ll leave the galaxy as soon as it’s done,” Draturim was at the table once more, and he slammed ten platinum pieces on the table, “and this is just for good measure.”

Dazzled by the riches before him, and the opportunity to gain galaxy-wide fame, Kendel was left with no choice but to agree to Draturim’s terms. A firm handshake sealed this.

“We must begin immediately. I have surely already been ratted out as in Okraina by now.” Draturim clapped, to which Kendel gave a determined nod and shot up from his seat.

The two were accompanied by bodyguards and loyal crew members to a remote and empty field just outside the city, which was intercepted by the train line. Kendel directed his crew around the area, with cameramen setting up near the train line, and a small group of brightly dressed creatures dressing Kendel in robes and painting his face, shrouding his identity. Draturim grimaced a little at the thought of this whole thing being a little overkill, but trusted that Kendel would do anything to gain publicity and live to tell the tale.

“Over here, Dragon.” Kendel waved his arm and pointed toward the train line. His smile was genuine this time, like a young boy on the night before his birthday, and his hair was pulled back, making his pale white complexion fully visible if it were not obscured by the ridiculous hood he was wearing.
“Okay, here’s the plan: I’m going to murder you. Not really, of course. That would be ridiculous! Could you imagine? But my crew will capture it all, they’ll edit it and make it look legit, and it’ll be broadcast and picked up all over the place.” Kendel said enthusiastically.

Draturim nodded with a sigh, and stood on the edge of the train line, awaiting the passing of the next train.

“You know when it’s coming, right?” Draturim asked, as they had been stood there for a good 10 minutes, staring at the unmoving tracks in the distance.

“Not at all. That’s the point of this, though, it has to appear natural.” he said, unconvincingly, “So, Dragon. Can I call you that?”

“You already did.”

“Well, yes, I suppose I did. Dragon. What will you do, you know, once this is all done and all?”

“Wouldn’t knowing put you in more danger?”

Kendel looked up and reflected on that, but soon returned to his giddy state.

“Maybe it would, but we’re friends now. I never even questioned why you’re doing this. I’m just trusting this is something you have to do.”

“Don’t make me regret not killing you, elf.” Draturim snarled a little, irritated by Kendel’s persistent prodding, but relaxed once he saw Kendel offer a sympathetic smile.

“You know, everyone admires you and your family. You have everything, you’re doing wonders for agriculture, but working in broadcast myself, I know that’s not all there is to the truth. Whatever you have going on, I hope this whole thing solves it and gives you peace.” Kendel said with a hushed voice, and as he stopped, tackled a distracted Draturim into the pit of the train line. In a blur, the train darted past, while the two lay on the ground, out of sight, presumably dead.

Draturim quickly jumped to his feet, startled by the sudden chain of events. He gasped and laughed and sighed as the adrenaline hit him.

“You really are a professional, elf!” Draturim extended his arm toward Kendel, and pulled him up from the ground. Beaming with joy, Kendel leaped into Draturim’s arms and hugged him tightly, which was initially met by resistance, but eventually Draturim returned the embrace.

“I guess this is it. You’re dead, Draturim. Leave the rest to us.” Kendel scratched his head as he backed away shyly.

“Thanks. My name is Drabroth, now.” Drabroth smiled, and felt as if he was reborn.

Emerging from the dusty pit of the train line, a victorious Drabroth and Kendel greeted their crew, hand in hand, for a brief moment of celebration before Drabroth’s permanent departure.

“Thank you, Kendel. Truly. I wish you the greatest success.” Drabroth said.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Your death will be the best thing that’s ever happened to me!” They both chuckled, but seemed to be mutually irked by something, as if their task was incomplete.

“Well, it’s time for me to go. Those ship owners won’t bribe themselves!” Drabroth turned to leave hurriedly, but was stopped as Kendel instinctively grabbed his arm.

“Ah, wait. Jeez. Before you go,” Kendel rushed to his costume crew, and began to rummage through the rack of strange clothing. He returned to Drabroth with only a bright yellow article, which could be compared to a thong.

“It’s modified for creatures with tails. It’s the only thing in that damn rack you could possibly make use of.” He handed it to Drabroth, laughing at the idea of him ever finding it useful. Drabroth accepted the gift, if only ironically, or to appease Kendel, and managed a melancholy smile.

“I’ll cherish it,” Drabroth mocked, “goodbye.”

“Safe travels.”

Drabroth stuffed the thong into his pocket and threw up his hood, before slipping into the darkness.

He would go on to bribe for safe passage to a distant galaxy, travel for years across a plethora of planets and moons, meet many interesting creatures, maybe join a circus, discover parts of himself he would have never found, and finally live a free life. Back home, nobody knows the truth of the Draturim conspiracy, but there would be a new family and a new adventure waiting for Drabroth in his near future.