The Sands of Delmaria
The Free-folk Pirate stuck in City folk Politics
Soon to come “The Galion” Stores and Materials
Founder of House Gali’on
Work in progress, spelling errors and confusion ensured
From the Nor’Lak’Tor Freefolk
Adapted from the sailor
Personal Traits: My friends know they can rely on me, no matter what.
Ideals: People. I’m committed to my crew mates, not to ideals.
Bonds: Ruthless Slaver murdered my captain and crew mates,
plundered our ship, and left me to die. Vengeance will
Flaws: Once I start drinking, it’s hard for me to stop
I use to be part of a crew, once. It was a small crew, part of the Doubloon faction. Arr those were the days, once we set sail we glided along the dune sea searching for the next sense of adventure. It was also when I still traveled with my Older Brother… 1st mate mind you. But that all changed when I learnt my brothers secret… he possessed magic… quite a bit of it too… and well… the tribe may accept magic for it is the way of the free-folk, there are always are always the “hunters” and it was one night while we where tied to a dock , did my tongue slip.
It wasn’t until we were anther day out in the dunes did they come for him, we thought they were a simple caravan line that had the “miss fortune” of losing there way, but wen we arrived closer… that was when the chains and irons came out.
My crew was captured, and when they appeared to have no value or magic, put to the sword. I was the last to be valued, and if by cruel fate they recognized me as their source, they tormented that fact over my older brother, that I was the cause of his capture… in the end I ended up like my crew in the sand, tho not by blood spilling around my neck.
When I came to, I pondered my regret and vowed to find my brother again, I buried my crew and sailed our ship back to the nearest port. From there I venture to the city states hoping to one day find the location of the slavers or if luck would have it my brother himself.
And that is how I wound up in Farrain, and how my connection to Burlon began.
It started with a HalflingJayley Leafenwind… In search for her Father.
The Crew was Myself, Jayley and a Spotter called Ricoh
It ended with a Sandworm and us being grounded in a “Reef”
All that survived was a ship’s Dingy with us on broad, everything else was lost to the worm and it would of been us as well if it was for Burlon’s “intervention”
So now I live in the Beserker’s Flagon Tavern, and work as Dune guider under Burlon Stone name. I thought of leaving but I stopped when I meet a Half-Giant by the name of Malgar “Longstrider” Orikanu and discovered he was the last person to of seen my Brother… alive. Here in the city of Farrain.
Trying to avoid city politics was as effective as asking the desert to stop spreading sand. Trying all his might, Dorn soon became lost in the political scramble. Any Free-folk would distain him if they saw what he had become. “City soft” they would all most call him… politely.
But alas the crown does have its advantages, off on the eastern wall of Farrain construction has been undertaken, the tavern yard is that another rich fool is trying to build a Nor’Lak’Tor vessel. But the workers don’t question the orders for money is money and at least they have more sense.
Dorn is still in search of his Brother and at “Court” he could be consider a ‘Deserteer’. His plans is still to find his Brother so they can raise the Galion, but alas he searches have been for naught. Turn out one can’t travel far without the Court’s suspicions.
That was until a few weeks ago. (Just Narrative for no one has been properly told)
The sandstorms have been quite chaotic this season, the Sands spilling into the city streets as if the desert has realised there is still a patch yet to be claimed. Dorn has also become restless, his nights are plague with partial memories of his Brother and the day of his betrayal, The countless men slaughtered in the city streets, the coming of the Exarchs, the almost failed attempt at crossing the desert, The deadly dances with the raging fire.
Then one night as it all came to another a head, as the memories continued their barrage on his dreams, the sand storm too gained velocity. As Dorn remembers the slashes and flashes his dreams begin to focus on an object hazed in the distance, drawing closer the form takes shape of his trinket, and clearly marked across its face are the three strokes that makes the symbol for REVENGE. And then he hears in a voice that he has not hear in such long time “Dorn…”.
Retching from his nightmare, he feel a surging in his veins, he listens and hears no understands the winds that swirl around him. There’s a knock at the door, a brief turn of the handle and then the sudden the door no longer stands… it’s been blow out into the hallway (thunder wave), the unfortunate person knockout from the surprise. He stares at himself… what has he become.
He then effectively flees his residence and heads towards the Warehouse to the one object that can comfort his fears.
(Dorn has magic, however he believes it is a extension of “The Gali’on” not himself)