Ah, the grand University of Lepidstadt. What little child growing up in its giant shadow wouldn't want to one day wander those splendid halls as a scholar? Never mind that the Dragiale were poor-as-dirt illiterate farmers from rural Vieland who visited the city just once a year. Durril was always the odd child out, with a mind and wit as quick as his hardy body. For all the cruel, backbreaking work he was subjected to as a child, he never forgot his dreams, and used whatever time he could spare to read and learn with the help of the village elder. Eventually, despite his ragged appearance and humble upbringing, Durril managed to win over a powerful official and was granted his wish - acceptance into the University.
Durril's time in Lepidstadt was busy but rewarding. Finally surrounded by equal peers - or at least, ones that wouldn't look at him like he was crazy the moment he opened his mouth - Durril thrived and grew even beyond his own imagination. Though he was fascinated by nearly every subject he encountered, Durril took to history and linguistics with unmatched fervor, absorbing whole volumes of material on the ancient peoples and languages of Golarion; he even joined a mystery cult at the University for a different take on the world. But, Durril couldn't spend the entire time with his nose stuck in books. The life of a scholar still required money, and with his family unable to support him like most of his colleagues, Durril took the odd job here and there, some more dubious than others...
