There once was a man named Undil Maxwell, who became known as a hero in various parts of Fargona for destroying countless bandit hideouts many years ago. Late in his life, the man and his band of companions took on the berserk dragons that had begun to pop up around Fargona as well until he finally met his end at the hands of a pitch-black Lung who was using many different means to terrorize people and dragons alike. Songs and stories can still sometimes be heard of the way he managed to bring it down with him, giving his life to save many others.
During his life, Undil bedded many women, and of course, some of those women bore his children. One of these children was a boy named Lendas, who took pride in the fact that he had the blood of a hero in his veins. So much so that he adopted his father's surname despite never having actually met him. He dreamed of becoming a hero like his father, and took to the sword as soon as he could hold one (his grandfather's actually, who actually outlived Undil). His mother probably believed that his father's blood could give him the power to be a hero as well, since she simply let him go on with his ambitions.
Throughout the years he trained and did various jobs throughout his hometown of Remok to save enough money for armor and a sword of his own, and once he was old enough and geared up, he left town to travel the world and save lives. Unfortunately, all of his training had been done on his own rather than under a master, so while he was in great shape he had nothing in the way of skill, experience, or talent. Lendas made it as far as Ormvorit, where he managed to stop some thugs in town on a few occasions before being killed by a Wyrm that had been killing much of the game.
Fortunately, Lendas lived long enough to leave a son: Dervish. Born in an insignificant little hovel on the edge of Ormvorit to the first woman Lendas had saved after reaching Ormvorit, the young boy wanted to be a hero just like his father and grandfather. He trained hard to accomplish his dream, but every step of the way he had to fight against his mother's frequent protests as well as his father's laughable reputation. He was frequently teased by the neighborhood boys who bragged about how much stronger their dads were, as boys do, and because of it got into fights all the time. These continued as he grew older, though now because he eventually earned his own reputation as a skilled brawler. His future as a warrior was already looking much brighter than his father's.
Dervish was fourteen years old when a little incident occurred that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He had picked a fight with an older man in the local tavern and was ready to brawl when the man pulled out a knife. Dervish's body was tough, and he never feared the fists of his foes, but after seeing the blade, he froze. After a lot of work, he managed to convince himself that he was strong and that a little knife was nothing to a warrior so he pressed on, but when he felt the stinging edge of the blade and the warm blood gushing from his shoulder, he began to panic. His heart started racing and he grew short of breath. Sweat rolled down his face and he started to feel faint. In the end, he ran, the knife fighter and the rest of the bar patrons laughing as he did.
As much as he hated to admit it, it would appear that Dervish was afraid of knives. Until then, he had never really felt like his life was at risk, but even a puny little knife like that could easily kill someone. Even the mightiest of warriors could be caught off guard and killed with a thing like that. Suddenly, all his experience and his powerful muscles felt worthless. What business did a coward have trying to be a warrior, or for that matter, a hero?
Dervish gave up his dream and found work as a farm hand where his muscles were put to good use, but it was a miserable, soulless existence. Over the next year of his life, as his body worked, his mind was trapped in that day wondering what he could have done differently. Furthermore, every time he saw a knife or sword, his heart rate would go up and he would go into a cold sweat, and he would imagine blood running down his side from his shoulder until he managed to get away and calm himself down.
He eventually decided that he couldn't live like that anymore. He sought out the knife fighter from that incident and attacked him, not even bothering to challenge him properly. He flew into a blind rage and ended up beating him to death in broad daylight, a twisted smile on his face when he finally calmed himself enough to realize that he had already died. The town guard tried to apprehend him, but pointing their spears at him wasn't a very good incentive to get him to surrender and they scared him off. He fled until he had left Ormvorit, and he kept running until he couldn't run anymore.
The only thing Dervish had going for him was his strength, so he wasn't very good at living off the land. He managed for a couple of days, but random nuts and berries weren't enough, especially considering that he had to keep running away from Ormvorit. One night, he was on the verge of going crazy from the hunger when he stumbled upon a camping traveler, dragging along a massive wagon with a pair of oxen. A wagon that big had to have something to eat, so Dervish tried to sneak around and open it without the traveler seeing him. The wagon had a wooden lid that was very heavy, but Dervish was both strong and willing to do anything for some food, so the lid proved to be little trouble. There was no way Dervish could have expected to find a dragon waiting inside the wagon.
Dervish's terrified scream alerted the man, who surprisingly wasn't angry. Instead, he was laughing. He then surprised Dervish even further by offering him food. Dervish eagerly accepted. They talked over their meal, and Dervish learned that the man's name was Adkilar, and that the dragon was one known as a Bakunawa. The man's calm, pleasant demeanor was a welcome change to the way the past week had been going. Their conversation continued well after the meal ended, and Adkilar allowed Dervish to travel with him until they reached a town.
The next day, Dervish was mortified to learn that Adkilar was headed towards Ormvorit. After much protesting, Dervish decided to tell Adkilar why exactly he wanted to avoid it. Adkilar's answer was simply that he himself would pay off whatever bail or bounty Dervish may have incurred. Dervish was speechless. He finally gave in, unable to think of a reason why he shouldn't accept. Thus, they continued onwards to Ormvorit. Along the way, they talked a lot more, Dervish feeling comfortable sharing everything about himself after seeing how Adkilar was completely unfazed by the fact that he had killed a man and was a fugitive. Maybe he had taken pity on him because of how pathetic he looked begging for him not to go to Ormvorit, though it didn't really matter anyway.
It was through talking with Adkilar that Dervish learned to better cope with what he'd done as well as the incident a year ago, and even his fear of knives. Of course, the fear was still very much alive, but it was no longer crippling. When the pair reached Ormvorit many were wary of Dervish, but he paid them no mind and immediately turned himself in. The officials were baffled, many of them only really having had encountered him until the murder. He didn't seem anything like a killer. However, the fact remained that he killed someone, and there were still many witnesses to that. Keeping the knife fighter's mangled corpse in mind, they knew they couldn't risk that this new, submissive Dervish was merely an act. Adkilar was denied any opportunity to pay bail.
Dervish had to stay in prison for two years. Adkilar visited him often to talk, occasionally leaving Ormvorit to continue his travels but always returning to Dervish. The young man had a lot of time to think in that cell, and talking with Adkilar helped him a great deal as well. Eventually, Adkilar inspired him to continue with his dream of becoming a hero, leaving him with his own story of his life, of a what ended in a meaningless, dreamless existence before finally leaving Dervish for good.
When his sentence was up, Dervish emerged from his prison a new man. After returning to his mother's home, he quickly got to work finding jobs and earning everything he could. He may not have had much in the way of skills, but there was always simple manual labor that needed to be done. His goal was to earn enough money for armor and weapons before finding a mercenary company to start with. He wouldn't repeat his father's mistake of setting out alone. His mother, while still opposed to his son following after his father, decided to support him. Most of all, she was just glad that he was out of prison, and if this would make him happy and keep him from going back at the same time, it was good enough for her. He was past the age to be away from home anyway, so it was time she let him go.
Dervish would not settle for anything less than knife-proof when it came to his choice of armor, so he was determined to get his hands on plate armor. However, being the pinnacle of self defense, it was naturally very expensive. It took Dervish a little over three years of constant work to earn what, according to some travelers passing through, would be enough for durable, high-quality plate armor and an equally tough shield, although he wouldn't have much left for a strong weapon like that. He didn't mind, since he valued his defense much more than his offense. Either way, he didn't know how to use any weapons other than his fists, so it was all the same to him.
Since Dervish wouldn't be finding any armorers skilled enough to give him what he wanted in a farming town like Ormvorit, he left town and made way for Honim where he would be sure to find plenty of good armorers. As a lone traveller with no apparent weaponry and a large bag containing loads of money, it was natural to assume someone would try to rob him at some point. Managing to fight off a pair of bandits by running away and throwing branches and big rock greatly increased his confidence, and he continued on with his head held high.
Once in Honim, he found that while he could, indeed afford high quality armor, the best armor was still way over his budget. Regardless, he got his hands on the best set of armor he could have had made for him with what he had, and also got an impressive kite shield. When it was time to find a weapon, he steeled himself and entered a weapon shop despite the lump in his throat and the sweat rolling down his forehead. He tried out a few of the weapons, but they all felt very strange after his experience fist-fighting. Furthermore, he didn't feel comfortable with how exposed his arm was after a swing or jab, regardless of the weapon. After much thought, he came upon the genius idea of just getting another shield and punching things with it. He didn't have much money left, so the best he could do was a wooden buckler, though he was sure to find one with a prominent boss.
Next came the search for a mercenary company to run with. He planned on gaining experience with them and upgrading his gear a bit before trying the whole hero thing out. Unfortunately, with no experience and no actual weapon he found it difficult to find anyone to take him. Eventually he found a fledgling band of mercenaries consisting of only four other members who were just glad to have someone with good equipment. They ran around doing simple jobs such as pest control and guarding farmers' wares, and eventually they started gaining a good reputation. Over this time, Dervish learned that he did, in fact, need some form of lethal offense as opposed to beating things with his buckler, so he sharpened the bottom point of his kite shield and had it reinforced with some of his earnings.
Dervish had been with the mercenaries almost a year when they got their first high-profile job. By now, he'd managed to earn enough to invest in a metal buckler, still remembering with dread the few times when he'd gotten a blade stuck in the wood of it and been unable to shake it off. The client was a rich head of a leather-working company. He had apparently been suffering attacks from a group of Dracotaurs that had recently increased in frequency and intensity, and was hiring many different groups of mercenaries to exterminate the entire band.
A fierce battle took place between the mercenary alliance and the Dracotaurs, and in the middle of it Dervish found himself drawn to one of his foes. When he approached it, he began feeling strange emotions before feeling a surge of energy that overwhelmed him. He fell unconscious in the middle of the battlefield. When he came to, he discovered that despite many losses the alliance still emerged victorious, although one of the Dracotaurs managed to escape. As he heard the report, Dervish continued to feel strange emotions that he was certain did not belong to him.
This continued for another week with Dervish eventually deciding to ignore these emotion until suddenly, when Dervish's mercenary group was gathering ore from a mountain for a client, they were set upon by a Dracotaur the group recognized from the rich man's job that for some reason did not attack them. It was here that Dervish discovered that these emotions came from it. One of his allies recognized this phenomenon from the old stories and informed Dervish that he was a Dragon Tamer.
With his companions to guide him through it, Dervish learned more about what he was and grew closer to the Dracotaur. When he asked the creature its name, it replied something along the lines of "Hssskrahshaklkliahrrr", which Dervish shortened to the only part that he thought sounded like words and came up with the name Sekrah. Being Dervish' dragon Bond, Sekrah was allowed to join their mercenary band. He was skilled with a spear and sword, wielding both simultaneously, and trained the mercenaries. On the other hand, with a Dracotaur in their group, the mercenaries found significantly less work as many clients saw them as savages.
Things weren't going very well for them until they stumbled upon a notice on a bulletin board from the king himself, calling for all Dragon Tamers and promising rich compensation. In dire need of money, the mercenaries encouraged Dervish and Sekrah to go to Issathon. Dervish was much more interested in the idea of saving Fargona and becoming a hero, so he gladly agreed to go.
