It could be said that my life truly began after I climbed my way out of the icy stomach of a red dragon.
Let me explain...
My name is Dru'gan Yor'uk Dra'Thun. I am the first of two brothers. When our hold was given to the dragons, I was installed as Governor and Patriarch, as was my birthright. I see now, in retrospect, it was all a lie. A lie that we accepted out of fear. With a dwarf of the ruling family in charge, everything would appear normal. And I lived, like all the others, in terror of the Dragon Lord: Charir Usk. One day, he had one of his sycophants demand the yearly taxes that we had paid not four months ago. Not knowing what else to do, I caved. But my father, Du'ran, would be silent no more. He beat the dragon within an inch of his life and told him to leave. There was hope again amongst our people. A hope quickly dashed by the flames of Charir Usk. He returned and demanded all of my father's possessions, including his heirloom ring. Father would not hand it over. So Usk destroyed him utterly. Father cried out to Moradin, to save his son. I closed my eyes and waited for Moradin to take me away... but then I realized that Moradin had not saved me. He had saved the younger Dor'Thee instead. I was heartbroken: My father dead and my brother chosen by Moradin. Usk then turned to me and asked what I was going to do. "Your bidding," I replied. The words still taste like bile upon my tongue. My spirit died that day.
Years later, my brother returns as the glorious and conquering hero, with his party of outsiders. I was enraged and disgusted. "The 'chosen one' had returned and I was to simply step aside?" was my first thought. Ugh. What a jealous coward I had turned out to be. I called guards upon him, which the outsiders made short work of and my brother defeated me and proved exactly why Moradin had chosen him. When the sycophant dragon returned to lay waste to Dor'Thee, I figured I would have one last shot at redemption. I attempted to delay the dragon, so my brother and his friends might rally, defeat it, and I would serve some purpose in death. Well... It ate me. A bit humiliating, really. I mean, eaten by a dragon? What a cliche.
In short, I lived. It seems that the dragon was attacked by some sort of ice weapon, which froze its body. Upon impact, the stomach cracked open and I was able to crawl out. I thought upon returning to my delve, but I could not face my people or my family again. I had disgraced myself and let fear rule over me. Never again. After crawling my way out, I headed straight to Khazat Glorak, determined to make a difference. Perhaps there I could find redemption.
In combat, I found my redemption. I had tempered my fear and my pride into a weapon for in the service of something greater than myself. Out here, amongst the armies of Sigil, I found purpose. My healing skill had earned me a friend, a silver wyrmling I have named Laur. As time had passed, word of my brother's deeds began to reach my ears. I learned he had fought for his title of Thane. He was working directly with Aurumia herself. I'll bet that stuck a thorn in Usk's ass! I also learned that he had returned a different man. Weary. Duty, it is said, is heavier than a mountain, while death is lighter than a feather. I had been "dead" long enough. Moradin might have chosen Dor'Thee over me, but it was because he is the better man. And though I am the elder brother, it is clear which one of us is meant to be the legend. But even legends need help. Even legends need their family.