#half orcs

Long time no see (again lol)! Here's some stuff about hybridization across the Orthosapiens order (which contains ~99% of sapient organisms in my designed world) :)

I focus on orcs and half-orcs here because, especially in WotC 'literature', orcs are one of the few species that seem to have always been able to hybridize on their own (without magical intervention).

Some comparative taxonomic discussion below:

They had waited two days for the clear sky. Louis was certain the wait was for Gat- his fellow orc had been shattered by the loss, by the death of his protector. Normally they would have dressed and buried her within moments of her passing but their traditions demanded clear skies so all of nature could see that they were returning one of nature’s friends back to her. Rain would cause the grave to fill and wash away the burial oils and paints and the clouds obscured the sun’s view. That was also why they could not perform the funeral at night- the moon merely reflects the sun’s light. Their shamans and clerics all agree that the moon could not inform the sun of their friend’s return, but the sun would do their due diligence to keep the moon in the loop.

It was warm. Louis remembers how much she loved warm weather. Perhaps nature had wanted her to be as comfortable as possible as she travels back though the earth. He breathes in the fresh air, the wind gentle on his skin. He catches the smell of the wild flowers and the ceremonial incense, which tells him she has been brought out to sit in the sun. Gat’s cries also tells him that he is struggling. Its understandable, no one grieves in one night.

Louis approaches and sees the orc resting his head on the alter. Normally one of their own would be set here to be cremated but in her case, it is serving as a display to allow all others to say one more good bye. Gat’s body shakes and his hands, folded in prayer, tremble roughly. He rests a comforting hand on his shoulder and knells beside him.

“I loved her-“ he whispers before his cries interrupt him. “She took such good care of me! And m-my son! On Brouq, he would have-“ he stifles himself.

“Yes, I was there the night the bear attacked. She drove it away before your son could be hurt. It was thanks to her we didn’t have to kill the creature.”

The different tribes and bands had their own opinion of animals and the magical beasts of the area. Many would not have blamed them for defending the child, but they themselves saw the attack as an accident. The bear hadn’t realized it had entered their home, and they have yet to see it again. Killing it would have been senseless in their eyes.

Adeline, their priestess for the day, approaches. She holds the funeral tablets and clears her throat to gain Gat’s attention. She was Gat’s protector; it is only right that he read the tablets over her before she is buried. The orc looks up at the half-orc and slowly shakes his head. His voice rattles as he breathes in and out. Louis stands and offers the man a hand. With a sign heavy with grief and apathy he looks at the protector before him.

“Alright.” He says. “I understand.” He reaches out and rests is hand over the dog’s head.

The dog, blessed to be named Sunny, lays peacefully on a bed of flowers. Her protector’s medallion rests under her head, a blanket just big enough to drape over her back depicts a sun that reflects the light off of the yellow gems sewn in. Bracelets made of beads and gems wrap around her ankles. Her fur shines with anointed oils. As Gat stands he is offered the funeral tablets so Adeline may retrieve the final adornment. She knells before the altar’s left, facing Sunny, and places a woven crown of wild flowers upon her head. She turns to the incense burners and holds her hand out for one of the plates. She is handed a stone plate full of the ash built up over the last two days. Gently, Adeline takes Sunny’s right paw and presses it into the ash. She does this again with her left, then moves to do the same to her back paws. Gat chocks on sobs when she finishes and motions for him to come forth.

“I’m sorry your son couldn’t be here, Gat.” Adeline whispers, resting her hands on both of his shoulders. “If you need strength you are free to ask for my assistance.”

He takes a shaky breath and nods. Normally the priestess would leave, allow the protector and charge(s) one final moment alone, but Gat is alone. Brouq had left the tribe years ago to be a traveler, to see the world. No one should be alone in these times. Gat takes one more breath and holds out the tablets, reading the orcish scribed on them.

“As Sun as witness, you served me well. As Air as witness, you were loved. As Earth as witness-“ he sobbed. Adeline gave his arm a squeeze, grounding him. “As Earth as witness, you are sent home.”

The wind blew then, carrying with it the smell of fresh water, wildflowers, and late spring. The pallbearers approached, taking hold of the poles that were used to carry Sunny to the alter. Carefully and slowly, they pick her up once more and carry her to her grave. Adeline has to bear Gat’s weight as he leans heavily into her, sobbing into her ceremonial robes. Louis, being the chef, must move and lead the pallbearers to the grave he dug. It is a small procession, as many of the tribe had opted to stay inside and meditate. Normally it would be one or two families meditating but Sunny was beloved by many if not the whole tribe. Her three mates she leaves behind can be heard howling as they arrive at the grave.

Sunny is lowered in. Gat stands over the grave and gives a private prayer as Louis shovels the dirt over the dog. The tribe members who came sob and cry out- it is not every day they lose a protector. They lose hunters, yes, and it just as world shattering and heart wrenching, but a protector is a dog who made sure the newborns were warm, who guarded the tribe at night, who were wise and caring. They always grow old and white in the muzzle, always die after living a long life. They watch and learn and when nature takes them back, they surely become guardians; the magic of wisdom transforms them in death.

When Louis is done Adeline reluctantly leaves Gat’s side and presents him with a bundle of cloth. This cloth is treated with soil, water, compost, and seeds. He plants the bundle over the grave and Adeline, though her magic and connection to the divine, fills a watering can and feeds the seeds. He remembers his mother told him this step, the final step, is called “The tears of those who mourn”.

Louis doesn’t pray. Not due to a lack of faith, but because he believes Gat and those at home have done enough praying for him and all the tribe members who are not present. The progression dissolves, members returning home, others walking off into the forest to hunt, and eventually it is just him and Gat.

“She was a good dog.” Louis says. “Come, she would have herded you back home by now.”

Gat nods and starts to shuffle away. When it is just him and the grave, Louis reaches into his shirt and pulls out an old, worn holy symbol.

“Do you see why I can not simply dig up the dogs?” he growls at the emptiness around him.

“Yes.” A voice says within his mind. “Thank you for sharing your culture with me.”

He stares out into the forest- the forest full of graves and the final resting places of hundreds of the tribe’s dogs, all returned to nature- and growls. “You still expect me to do it, don’t you?”

“No.” the voice whispers. “But I do expect you to do what you must to save your people from being wiped out by Caekrix.”

I will just spam post everything here at this point