The Asherati known as Khankhe Nazihar was born 28 years ago in the dunes of Osirion the home of his nomadic tribe of people. Like the others of his kind he was a native to the sands and took quickly to the sands as a dolphin or other mammal of the sea might take to the water.
Khan was adventurous from birth, always crawling toward strange sounds or unfamiliar lights. If his mother had hair he would have caused her hair to turn grey from the worry. As he aged this explorer spirit never faded though he swiftly learned of the dangerous of the desert and the beasts that call the dunes home as well.
When he was only 9 years old he encountered something he had no words for at the time. Something his parents and tribe had not taught him about in his hours of schooling. A shambling creature, wrapped in bandages and mindlessly hunting anything that moved. It fell upon him, trying to attack him but he was saved at the last moment by his father who simply grabbed Khan and dove into the nearest dune of sand and drug him to the other side. There his father left him with the instruction to run. But what child obeys when something is unfamiliar, when the danger has not sunk in.
He crawled the dune and spotted the light of his father below the sands moving around the creature, only to be joined by another and another light. Each of the three Asherati would peek up through the sand, drawing the creatures attention and draw it toward that direction. They herded the mindless dead thing further from camp. Till a fourth light appeared through the sand, racing under Khan and then under the undead. The light would flash, something odd for their people till Khan realized it was magic causing the flash not their natural light. The magic caused the undead thing to shake violently in pain and shamble in circles to catch the lights and creatures encircling it. Each flash drew another pained moan from its withered desecrated lips.
Soon though the danger had passed as the creature crumbled to the dirt and with another flash turned to dust only to join with the sand and the dirt in the wind. Khan's father returned to him, scolding him for not obeying and dragging him home. Khan never forgot what he had seen, he understood now the danger of the dead, what those bony fingers and jagged teeth could do. But he also learned what they could do to fight it.
He became a student of the flashing light, a Asherati called Quelutet as Sorcerer. Magic flowed in Khan's family through his mother and her father so when he began to demonstrate the spark he was quickly taken to a teacher to hone his skilled. He too learned the spell that slew the beast long ago, learned the tactics of his people in how they hunted in the desert. The sand was their home, it hide them from danger and prey alike.
Khan never quite lost his wanderlust, drifting on hunts further and further toward the cities of the surface dwellers. He had been taught how to steal, how to trade, and how to work for them when the need arose. Guarding their caravan from bandits paid well, being a bandit often paid more, though with more danger. When alone he explored, old tombs and ruins in the desert long forgotten to many of Osirions natives.
At the age of 28 he had decided to take a further step on his own. To leave the tribe for a time and travel to the cities, to explore the tombs there. To learn more about the peoples and how they worked. Like his whole people he fears the water, unable to swim and not understanding why anyone would want to be submerged in what you drink he steers clear of the ports and has only ever seen a boat from a distance or in drawings. But now that fear is even in question. If his adventures take him to the sea, what's the worst that could happen right?
