On the Razor's Edge, A Razor Coast Campaign (Inactive)

Game Master Feral

He never knew his mother. This might come as a surprise to the more civilized folk, especially those like the preachers and the priests of the goodly gods, but for his tribe and for many tribes this was as it should be. It wasn't because they didn't value children, have family units of a kind or even because of women's roles within the tribe. Children were the lifeblood, the future. Families were born and though ceremonies were less ostentatious, they were just as celebrated so that the Three might bless a union, and women could lead just as well as men in their eyes. In fact, it was a woman who lead the tribe, and it was a woman that ordered his death when he was born.

He never liked her.

He was born a Dajobasu. He was told that it was the pleas of his mother who saved him. The tribe was remote, far off from the troubles of colonists. But pirates loved to come to such islands in order to make bases far away from authority. They were in desperate need of warriors, and though Dajobasu were hated by the Tulita for the one that created the race, their fighting prowess was well documented. Dag was saved on the condition that he would not be raised as a child, but as a warrior. On his second year he would be taken from one of the 'nurse maids' of the tribe and handed over to the care of a warrior.

He never knew his father either, though he suspected the one they gave him to, to be trained by, was him. Who else would be so filled with shame and anger by a child as to do the things that man did to Dagoresh? It was training, but it was more brutal then anything the Tulita would subject to even their strongest warriors. The reasoning was this. Should he not survive, he could not possibly be the champion they needed. And so the elder allowed it, and when he turned five his training began.

By the age of ten, he knew how to kill a man, and could easily do so. Despite the fact that he was obviously becoming -exactly- what they wanted him to be, he was hated and derided for his appearance, though he never chose to be born this way, but instead of fighting against it he let the rage inside him build. He took the name they gave him, Dagoresh Telarawr, as -his- name. He knew the meaning. Dagger Mouth. But he took it and used it to fuel his hate, and whenever anyone called him that, he simply pushed that anger deep inside.

At one point, he came across a very large turtle during the few days he had away from his training a month. The turtle was clearly injured, his shell cracked by something, though what he couldn't be certain. He knew exactly what the turtle was to his people. Though they didn't expect their gods to care, they would not have a Dajobasu insult their gods. Ten years of mistreatment and anger had been built up within the young child, and for a moment he very nearly started down the path that would lead him to the progenitor of his race.

Hunger flashed in his eyes as he stepped forward to devour the sacred creature... and then he saw its eyes. And the anger fell away. Would he truly kill this creature simply for what it was born as? Cause it pain because it was a turtle? It wasn't the turtles fault fault that his people were cruel toward him.

Dagoresh Telarawr became Dag that day. For the next week, he stayed away from the village, tending to the turtles wounds with the local herbs and a little of his own supply of medicine. He knew well how to treat injuries, having needed to learn long ago to treat his own. Dag cared for the turtle, fed it, and even began trying to fashion something to cover the vulnerable spot in the creatures armor.

He was nearly finished when his father found him, having been sent by the leader of their tribe to 'deal with his responsibility'. The man was livid, so much so that he very nearly killed Dag for becoming distract and shaming him further within his tribe. The turtle stepped in between them, taking the blow and then striking out at the man. The creature didn't seem to care what Dag was. Dag was the one that had protected him from predators. Dag was the one that had healed him.

The turtle crushed the warriors arm, leaving a mark for all to see that none could mistake. The three returned to the village, the turtle following Dag, and the warrior recounted his story to the village leader. He told the truth, the entire truth, feeling the sacred creatures eyes upon him. The tribe was in an uproar, demanding he take it back, but the leader saw the danger in this. Turtles, all turtles, were avatars of Tumatenga, Grandfather Turtle. This was known. To defy one was to defy Old Angry Face himself.

Dag was given... better treatment from that day on, though whether it was because of his good deed or because Snappy, the turtle he had saved, never left his side was uncertain. In the days to come, Dag would realize the change that had over taken him. He didn't care. He kept his name, but changed what he asked people to call him slightly. He did not want to forget the past, to forget his mistake, but he also didn't want to let it hang over him eternally. He would not let other peoples anger decide for him what he would be.

Dagoresh Telarawr had become Dag over a week and a half before he ever told someone to call him that, but he only realized it after time and patience.

Snappy taught him a great deal without ever needing to say a word. It was never really certain if the turtle was more then what he appeared or not but Dag could care less. He came to love the creature and even learned to fight beside him, using the great mass and surprisingly fast strikes to confuse and delay opponents until he could get in close.

By the age of 15, Dag stood at 7'4 and weighed nearly three hundred pounds. His greenish, scaled body was layered with many scars and his tail, short as it was, was missing its tip. And he was respected, if not liked, by his tribe as a champion and defender. By the age of twenty, he had even built a simple home closer to the beach, away from the tribe and closer to the shore that the various roaming bands of pirates often landed on. He was happy. Not because the tribe treated him better, but because he had found a way to be happy with the life he had. He paid respect to all the three gods, but in particular he worshiped Tumatenga for what the deity had granted him.

It was at the age of 22 that Dag's life would change and he would lose his only real friend. Pirates came to the shores of the small, remote island. Pirates attacked the tribe, knowing exactly where they were. And when Dag came out to fight, Snappy by his side, the pirates slew the turtle and injured him enough to subdue him with some sort of metal sticks that exploded with fire.

Some of the tribe bowed down to the invaders, believing they represented the wrath of Pele. But Dag fought bravely, knowing that it was simply another weapon they used, and slew several of them before he was finally brought down.

When he awoke, his injuries were healed and he was in the cargo hold of one of the vessels the invaders often used. Even in the cage his wrists were bound behind his back with leather and chains, a collar resided around his neck, and two shackles bound his legs. They were taking no chances with the monster that had killed so many.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Dag would hear of his fellow tribesman, kept in a separate hold meant for slaves rather then cargo, succumbing to sickness and eventually dying. Of the slaves they had captured, only he was hearty enough to resist the knew ailments the pirates brought with them. He would learn through idle chatter that it was a grand plan that had fallen through, but still left the pirates with a base and a slave for heavy lifting.

He would learn what they meant by that after a month, when he was forced to, in chains, do anything that required more then a single man. He was whipped constantly to make him move faster and he earned new scars trying to resist nearly daily. This lasted so long, Dag couldn't keep track of the days or the weeks. But he was not alone. Though Snappy was dead, Dag still prayed to Tumatenga, believing Old Angry face would watch after snappy.

It was near the end of his days aboard the ship, though Dag had no way of knowing this, that one other cargo was brought aboard. A creature he had never seen before. It looked like the crocodile his features so mimicked, but it walked on two legs instead of four and had two stubby arms in its place and smooth scales rather then ridged ones.

As he was want to do, Dag befriended the creature. It was so small then, barely four feet long counting the tail and seemingly very fragile. It was adorable, in his eyes, while the pirates seemed to fear it or pretend not to. Dag could smell the difference though. They all knew something about this creature he did not and they were desperate to get it to the 'buyer' they kept speaking of, smuggling it through port authorities.

Unfortunately their fancy metal sticks did not protect them. Well, they might have, but from what Dag learned of the day he freed himself and Stumpy, the other guy brought bigger sticks. The biggest in fact. Cannons.

The captain himself was in the hold inspecting their precious cargo... Stumpy, not Dag. He was giving his men careful instructions when thunder peeled across the ocean and the ship rocked back and forth, as if Old Angry face himself had slammed into the bow. The captain stumbled and Dag saw his chance. He broke the metal binding his wrists behind him with one rage filled surge of effort and moved forward with blinding speed. His thick arms reached through the bars of the cage and grabbed the captain. His neck snapped rather easily. Then he dragged the body through the bars, breaking as many bones as he needed to do so.

The other three in the room watched with horror. And then one asked, "Didn't... the captain... have his keys?"

The three looked at each other. And then Dag used the keys he had seen used a hundred times before to undo the cage door. The shackles around his legs were already broken. The three tried to run, but Dag learned many things that day. For instance, Pirate Captains have very nice swords.

The Falchion cut them down as easily as if it had been a God-blessed spear. Dag turned to Stumpy and calmed the critter down, promising to return shortly, and as the ship rocked and reeled again from another explosion, Dag went up top onto the deck of the ship.

When the authorities finally boarded the ship, the only one's left alive were Dag and Stumpy, the former standing between the latter and the attackers. It took several long attempts for them to communicate, but Dag was no fool. He had managed to pick up on the basics of the pirate language and was able to reply back in simple, short and terse sentences. He told them he had been a slave and he had freed himself, then slew the pirates while the authorities vessel closed in. He told them he would rather die then be a slave again, but he meant no harm to them.

The captain of the ship that had attacked the pirates was feeling particularly grateful to Dag for sparing his men the need to fight what would have been a bloody battle. He offered the creature passage in return for fighting for them on three more hunts. He would bring Dag to a place called Port Shaw with a handful of gold after they were done.

Dag knew the basic idea of currency. His tribe had never used it, but he had been on the pirate ship long enough to know that there was more to it then give gold and get stuff. He was also slyer then his appearance let on. He began bartering. Two hunts, and the captain would also teach him to read and speak the language, and would teach him the basics of this 'Port Shaw'. The captain was surprised, but instead of being angry at the suggestion he threw back five hunts and he would teach the man how to speak.

They bartered for an hour before finally settling on six hunts, everything Dag had asked for, and that Dag could keep some of the gold, the pirate captains weapon, and Stumpy.

Captain Taylor was not particularly happy about the last being aboard but Dag had been able to convince him he had the creature under control. Dag boarded Taylors ship and fulfilled his obligation to the fullest. He also learned rapidly, devouring the common language and then any book the captain had aboard. Not... not literally. He just learned how to read very fast.

When he was finally put off at Port Shaw, he had a purse full of gold numbering in the thousands, a brilliant magical blade, a new friend, new knowledge and absolutely no idea what he was going to do. It was only thanks to Taylor that Dag knew to look for a particular inn, the Salty Siren. Within resided two people that would help him... adjust.

The owner of the place was a woman by the name of Besarana, someone of both Colonial and Tulita descent. The Bartender was a half-orc named Jared, a man nearly as large as Dag and with skin far brighter and greener. Dag immediately sensed a theme as he entered the inn, but the pair proved to be just as helpful as Captain Taylor promised once he gave them the mans name.

They started by grilling him. Intensely. They were surprised with how fluidly he spoke the common language, and though his horrific appearance and direct manner wasn't exactly charming, they understood he wasn't any threat to them. They asked for his story and listened intently when he spoke, probably looking for any lies. When they tried to brush off his own inquisitiveness as to the nature of the questions, he could smell their deceit on them and called them out on it.

It was intense for a few moments, but then Jared made a joke, and they were all laughing. Dag would learn each of their stories in turn and as a good friend would, he would keep them to himself. Things weren't always perfect of course. He and Beserana fought as often as they got along, but Jared was always able to calm them down.

Besarana and Jared both knew what it was like to be outcasts, and while they admitted that Dag was a... severe case, they knew what sort of trouble came with the life. They eventually found a place for him in the Port as a guide and a bodyguard.

With a little study, he knew the region well, and could lead a group through any of the island with little trouble. What trouble he did meet he could easily deal with too. Dag began making gold and a name for himself. And he had friends. Dag never learned to like beer, but Jared and he spoke often at the bar during the Salty Siren's later hours. And Besarana put him up for rent and defended anyone that tried to have the Dajobas kicked out. In return, Dag paid his rent on time every month and helped Jared with some of the more... difficult groups of drunks.

Dag has been in Port Shaw for five years now, and while he can only guess his age within a few months of any sort of accuracy, he believes he has finally found a home. In that time, Stumpy has grown, and Dag has moved out of the Salty Siren to a nearby apartment. When he's in the port and not on a job, he visits every night after bar rush.

He has a home now and friends, and every night he thanks Old Angry Face for showing him the truth of things all those years ago. In recent days, the Grandfather turtle has even started to reply in... subtle ways. A dream awoke Dag one night to the possibility of something... more. He went outside to the sea and cast his very first spell, feeling Tumatenga's power flow through him. It was a simple thing, so very simple... and so perfect.

She was born into a Moamasu tribe that was renowned for its coral and pearl creations. Her birth was greeted with horror and shame. Her family felt that she was a divine punishment given to them by the gods. 

At first she thought she had a happy family. After all, her family was all she knew as she was kept in secret and she was treated coldly. She thought this normal and thought nothing of it. One day while out in their little private cove she saw others and waved and greeted them. She just got hard looks and sneers. 

"Get away from us Dajobasu. You are not welcome here monster."

She was surprised by this for she had heard of the evils of the Dajobasu, but had never heard what one looked like. She noticed when they got closer that these people looked more like her parents and not her. Was she indeed some monster? Didn't seem possible, she held no ill will towards them. Then she saw them draw weapons. Her father showed up before anything else happened and sent the men away. 

That night she learned she was indeed a Dajobasu and the only reason she hadn't been left in the swamp is she was to young to take care of herself. When she asked if her parents wanted to keep her she was greeted with stony silence. She cried herself to sleep that night as she listened to her parents lament her birth. The next couple of weeks she came to a decision. She would give her parents the freedom of not having a Dajobasu daughter. It was early before her parents woke in the morning. She gathered what little she had and the small boat her father had made for her. She now knew it was to keep her from being in the same boat as them. She left them a pearl necklace with her favorite shell for them to find. On the shell it had a small carved dolphin. The symbol of the tribes main god of the three.

After all, she could survive on her own right. She knew how to fish and make a house didn't she?  

The next couple of years of her life were hard, very hard, finding her in various states of starvation, sickness, and injury. Eventually, in the swamp she had called home she met another Dajobasu. He was ancient in her eyes and he helped her survive. He taught her of the spirits of the world and how to fight. He was slowly grooming her to join his tribe and to be his apprentice but found her strange. He knew he would have to slowly work her into the Dajobasu ways.

One day they went fishing and they saw a pod of dolphins in a protected cove near the swamp. The old Dajobasu told her to come with him. Dolphins were giving birth and it was an excellent chance to bring in sacrifices. This stunned her. Dolphins were sacred. Why did he want to hurt them. She followed anyways as she puzzled out how he had treated her and what he had been teaching her. He had been telling her that her tribes ways were wrong and that they were against the will of the strongest god. But since the Three had teamed up against him it was a continuing battle for control. The Dolphin was especially devious. It went against Pele and to flee punishment, fled into the ocean. So vile was her deviousness that even her avatars hunted the great sharks in the name of so called protection. He had been challenging all of her beliefs.

Once there he saw a particularly white dolphin baby and before she could say anything threw out a vicious hooked net wrapping up the little one. The more it struggled the more it hurt itself. She watched for a moment its clicks and cries reaching her ears and when she looked into its golden eyes she knew her next decision would pick her path in life. Acting without thinking, Ma Hiwa followed her heart. She dove into the water to free the dolphin quickly working to cut it free of the barbed net. 

Her teacher grew angry that she would defy him and went to cast a spell on her only to get struck by a harpoon and lost the spell. They had both missed the boat nearby hidden among the thick trees. Cursing he redirected his attention there as she tried her best to help the little one free. Looking up she saw a couple of men and they were almost upon them. One pulled out a strange weapon and fired a loud boom nearly causing her heart to skip a beat. Her teacher fled cursing her saying he would get his revenge even as both wounds bled.

Quickly she finished getting the little one  free and with what little magic she had stopped its bleeding. It scurried off with its mother away from the boat and her.

The men grabbed her up and hauled her into the boat before she could swim away. That is when she realized that the dolphin had not been running from her, but from the sharks that had smelled blood and come to eat. She watched as the pod and the men on the boat quickly dealt with them. She watched another man heal the dolphin's wounds before they pulled out of the cove and to an even bigger boat, leaving the dolphins behind.

She soon found herself upon a slave hunter's ship. Eventually she figured out they were there hunting slavers and pirates. They had taken her with because they thought she was in danger from the other alligator man, as they called him. She was viewed with superstition for two reasons. One what she was and two she was female but the Captain had told them of her bravary and how she had saved the white dolphin. This garnered her grudging respect and admiration. When she asked why this was and they took her to the bow of the ship and showed her the name and bowspirit of the boat. The White Dolphin was the ships name. White dolphins had saved the Captain's life. So all Dolphins were treated with respect. They had come to the cove to watch the birth and protect them against sharks because of this.

She traveled with them for a long while and loved the freedom of the open ocean and waves. Eventually she heard the call of the Dolphin in her heart and took up being ine of her Shamans. She fought alongside the crew on their many hunts. Her spells augmented their fighting prowess and made them effective pirate hunters.

Eventually they came upon a pirate vessel that slowed down as they chased it and eventually manage to board only to find another Dajobasu on board. She hung back out of sight as him and the Captain haggled. It was only after a deal was struck that she cautiously approached.