To be an orc in a world of humans is hard. To be a human in a world of orcs, harder. To be both in both worlds is impossible. But such is the life of the half breed. One could wax eloquent on standing between two worlds or being able to see more than others because they’re outsiders. I will not. To be half a race is to be half a person. You’re crippled socially and culturally from birth. You likely end up hating your parents for having you at all, if you don’t kill yourself or get killed before you’re an adult. One of your parent races might accept you, but you’re never one of them. Some will throw that at you like a weapon, or bleed you with their looks of pity. They won’t accept you. Perhaps they could but you are something unspeakable to them. Look at the half elf. Longer lived than his family, but just another slow lived person to the elves. The elves pity you and the humans envy you.
Even in villages of just half breeds, you get problems. The half orcs have done it. Fate, there’s enough of us to be a race unto ourselves! But when we get together in villagers the same old problems rise. Those who look more orc are better, or those who look more human. We fall prey to the same traps we tried to escape. And we pass those faults onto our children. We pass on the shame and hurt and humiliation because we don’t know better, or can’t do better. Sometimes, its because we want our children to suffer like we did. I wanted you to suffer that way, daughter. You’re human at least. Not a half breed like me, as long as you don’t tell others who I am and what I am. I’m sorry for how I raised you. I wish .... I wish a lot of things. By the time you read this, I won’t be here. You can go now, free of my ties binding you here. Free of my anger, and fearing me. I’d ask for forgiveness, but I have no right to. I don’t deserve it. I tried to love you, as best as I could. Live well, daughter.
Racial: None
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