[Memory] Where the Wind Blows

The barren wastelands of Daravin, ruled by mad raiders and bandit Kings.

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Deimos
Posts: 16
Joined: Sat Feb 26, 2022 9:06 pm
Location: Daravin
Character Sheet: viewtopic.php?f=43&t=1790
Character Secrets: viewtopic.php?f=20&t=1816

Tue Mar 08, 2022 2:35 pm

Memories

Deimos was fifteen years old when he and his best friend, Ash, were tasked by the temple to seek out an unknown corruption spreading in the forested mountains of his island home, Lukhan. However, the source brought them to an undead Druid, and Deimos was more unnerved than ever. What kind of foul magic would be able to possess someone so much as to think it’s a good idea to reanimate that which is no longer alive? Retiring to their temple's antiquary, he and Ash decided to collect the promised reward. Deimos, not happy in the matter, spoke rather curtly to the tribe leader. He apologized to Ash, however, and they returned to their room.

The next morning, he received letters from both Ash and Penny, another good friend and crush, and his brother, Oshun, was nowhere to be found. He went to get breakfast and overheard a small group of people talking about Grisic, where they will go to display and share their crafts. The conversation intrigued him so he decided he’d follow. Once it seemed everyone had their own paths to follow, Deimos wrote his own letters to his friends. First was to his best friend and foil, Ash Valdrum.

Ash,
I guess I get it, we all need to grow. That zombie druid was … I don’t even know honestly. But I’m heading to Grisic. I heard there’s a group of people there who have my talents, so maybe I can learn from them and become the greatest alchemist ever! I exaggerate of course, but some guidance is better than winging it, yeah?
And you say you're jealous of me? You’re already miles ahead in training and talent. Fasha gave you a frikken sword, for salt’s sake! I can barely swing a dagger, let alone be able to carry a sword. So don’t be jealous. You’re the bravest person I know, and I know you’ll get even better.
So shut up, dork!
Oh, and keep an eye over Oshun. I’m still not sure if he has a brain anymore. What happened? Did he outgrow it or something?
Also, Penny— (the sentences here are all crossed out save for the last sentence, which seems to be an afterthought) —just don’t be weird.
Good luck on your own journey, and only tell me if you want to! The gods know I have secrets too. Maybe the secret for a secret will be fun when we meet again!
Your friend,
D.

Then came Penny Sullivan, his first crush, confidant, and an overall sweetheart. Choosing his words carefully, he expressed himself in a way that he never did before, the prospect of going elsewhere emboldening him.

Penny,
No need to feel weird around me. It’s obvious I care for you a lot, and if how I act about it makes you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. Either way, I’m going to find this place that I heard is full of people with my talents and interests in Sabrespire, so I’m not sure when I can visit. Something to talk about next we meet, yeah? Anyroad, glad the music box is still working and it gives you comfort. Too bad about the gross people though.
If you ever need anything, let me know. I’ll keep you updated on my whereabouts.
Yours,
Deimos


Finally, he sent a quick note to Oshun, hoping it would reach him.

Oshun,
Get yourself a brain that thinks, you foolish thing!
Until we meet again,
D.

Image
Along the road to Grisic with a small group of strangers, Deimos received another letter from Penny via carrier pigeon. While he thought they must be highly trained to find him in the first place, he was more excited about the letter. After reading it, smiling, he wrote back and found a small box among the rubbish the strangers had. He placed a small device inside it, along with his letter and instructions, and sent it back through the pigeon. It was one of a pair of earpieces, fashioned together with copper wires, springs, and gears.

Once he heard Penny’s voice over the device, he couldn’t stop smiling. He wished he could have been able to make a more stable pair of devices, as he knew he could talk to her and hear her voice all day if given the choice. At that moment, though, he was just happy to hear it once, and responded in kind to confirm he heard her and that she was able to work it correctly. As it took an excessively long time for the devices to be able to send and receive again, Penny didn’t hear from Deimos after that first time. When the ship arrived in Tyrclaíd, Deimos found himself in a precarious situation. It wasn’t long before a tall man appeared and ordered the few men who collected Deimos, and others, to take them aboard his ship, The Queen’s Revenge.

It was aboard The Queen’s Revenge under the helm of Captain Thaddeus Hammerfist that Deimos learned how harsh life at sea could be. The Captain was brutal, plundering cargo ships and collecting the contents. People were not above being called “cargo”, Captain Hammerfist using them for trade, labor, or whatever else he could exploit from them. The Captain even used Deimos to terrifying ends.

Once the Captain caught the young man tinkering with the firearms, making the chambers smell like cedar (Deimos did not like the smell of gunpowder, to the point of finding it nearly offensive), the Dragonborn decided to put that skill to use. He pressed Deimos to reveal what else he could do, and exploited him when he learned what Deimos actually was, forcing him to join in the “festivities” or be subjected to the slave trade. “How much do you think a Duskai is worth?”

Reluctantly, Deimos modified some of the crew’s items. One of the Captain’s favorite was making a sword emit a scream whenever the user swung it, disorienting the victim. It wasn’t long before the Captain branded Deimos’s neck with his mark, and forced him to kill and plunder in his name, rewarding the young man with a hearty meal and a minuscule part of the bounty in return.

After twelve years of this abuse and blackmail, Deimos managed to slip away under cover of night, staying underwater for days to avoid being spotted, or the Captain picking up his trail. When he was sure the Captain was no longer searching for him, when the Queen’s Revenge left port, Deimos finally entered the city of Starkwayte.

His stay was short-lived, as he found it difficult to adapt to the militaristic lifestyle. Deimos learned what he could before finally breaking away and toward another prospect: Daravin. It was in one of the libraries in Starkwayte where he heard of the "barbaric wastelands" in Daravin, where raiders hoarded rusted trash in the hopes of making it useful. Intrigued, as he often was, Deimos packed his meager belongings and headed north to this desert junkyard.

The sun beat down on the lone figure sprawled on his back as he looked up into the sky. He was surrounded by various scraps of rusted metal and cogs, a toolset unfurled beside him as a mechanical dog paced back and forth on patrol. He raised his hand to shield his eyes and frowned. It was hot, and he was nearly out of water. He had yet to find a location to fill his waterskin and he still wasn't used to being so far from any oasis.

Image


Deimos dropped his arm back onto the sand and closed his eyes. With a sigh, he sat up and pulled his feet together. Jade braids fell over his face, the rest of his hair under a dirty bandana. He looked to his patrolling dog before issuing a sharp whistle, calling the golem to his side. He placed a hand on the dog's head, causing the dog to sit with its mouth open. With another sigh, he rolled up his tools and fastened the carrier with its leather ties before placing the bundle in the dog's mouth.

"Εντάξει, χαλκός," the man addressed the dog, "ας κινηθούμεthe.1" He picked the dog up and placed it in the sidecar of his two-wheeled chariot before mounting it himself and lowering his goggles. He learned when first arriving in this desert that winds here are awful, and dry sand flies everywhere. He didn't want to get another eyeful of the coarse sand.

This is nothing like home, he thought, bundling up his body under extra layers of fabric. He was already a deep-sea green in his skin, but the prolonged exposure to the harsh sun turned him a darker moss. He started to burn, and it was uncomfortable. "Ας δούμε αν μπορούμε να βρούμε κάποια πηγή νερού, ε?2"

1. Alright, Chalkós, let's get moving.
2. Let's see if we can find some sort of water source, eh?
word count: 1623
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Obsequies
Posts: 63
Joined: Tue Mar 08, 2022 8:06 pm

Fri Mar 11, 2022 8:21 pm

Where the Wind Blows

Points awarded:
  • +2 Skill Exp
  • +3 Artificing Exp

Lores:
  • Survival: One With the Surroundings
  • Gunsmithing: Trigger Mechanism
  • Gunsmithing: Barrel
  • Gunsmithing: Stock
  • Gunsmithing: Sight Calculations

Loot:
  • N/A

Injuries:
  • N/A

Notes:
Such a tragic start for the lad! I'd also imagine learning to survive in a desert won't exactly be fun to somebody who is from pretty much the opposite in terms of climates, ahah. Daravin is a great place to start, unkind as it is to outsiders.
word count: 207
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