Dorhe

Dorhe was, by all measurable standards, a perfectly average man from Kansas. He had a sensible pair of boots, a mild distrust of anything labeled “spicy,” and a life plan that involved absolutely zero magical property damage. Unfortunately, Oz had other ideas. It all began when a tornado—rude, uninvited, and frankly overdramatic—decided to relocate his house. Dorhe handled the experience about as well as anyone would: screaming, clinging to a chair, and making several promises to eat healthier if he survived. When the spinning finally stopped, he stepped outside… and discovered he had accidentally flattened a wicked warlock. Now, Dorhe would like it clearly stated that this was not premeditated. He didn’t even know warlocks could be flattened. Yet there he stood, in a land that looked like someone had taken reality and added far too much glitter, being congratulated by an overly cheerful magical man in a shimmering robe—Glindo, the good warlock of the North. Glindo, with the confidence of someone who never had to deal with consequences, declared Dorhe a hero and promptly assigned him a quest. No paperwork. No appeal process. Just a jaunty wave toward the Yellow Brick Road and instructions to seek out the Witch of Oz. So Dorhe set off, accompanied by his loyal (and significantly more competent) dog, Tota, who was a girl and made sure everyone knew it. Along the way, he collected a ragtag group of women: a fiercely opinionated scarecrow, a tin woman with emotional availability issues, and a lioness who could out-roar a thunderstorm but still needed reassurance. Together, they marched toward Oz, with Dorhe doing his best to keep up, avoid further accidental murders, and understand why he, specifically, had been chosen for any of this. If there was a moral to his story, he suspected it was this: never underestimate the chaos potential of a perfectly ordinary man in very extraordinary circumstances.