Baldur's Gate: Enhanced Edition Dorn Short Story and Voice Samples
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"Let them pass," said Dorn. "They're useless to us."
Dorn scowled down at the muddy road. The caravan was the smallest they had seen all day, only two wagons with a pair of lancers in front and another pair behind. Two armed men sat on each driver's seat, a third with a crossbow sitting atop the tarpaulin-covered cargo.
"They're headed for Luskan," said Dorn's mother. "And there are no dwarves among them."
Twelve-year-old Dorn had never raided the dwarves, but he knew they hated half-breeds as much as they hated the orcs of his father's tribe. He guessed the wagons carried iron ingots from the mining city of Mirabar. They would not stop to help a half-orc and his mother.
"Let them pass," said Dorn.
"We'll never make it to Luskan without help," she insisted. They had not eaten in three days, and she could barely walk. Dorn could carry her only a few miles each day. He had no idea how much farther it was to Luskan, where she said they would find civilized men.
Dorn and his mother were the lone survivors of the attack that destroyed their village. When the ogres crashed through the picket line, Dorn hesitated, torn between joining the defense and carrying his mother to safety as she begged him to do. If he had remained, he knew, they both would be dead. Dorn regretted not snatching up a weapon from one of the pulverized orc defenders. Armed, he could offer to help guard the caravan. Armed, he could defend himself if they attacked at the first sight of him.
Dorn's mother stood and cried out to the caravan, but her frail voice was too weak to carry.
"Here!" yelled Dorn, standing to loom above her. At the sound of his deep voice, the archers turned their crossbows in his direction.
