Amar’s Story

Amar grew up just south of the Akela Inn, the last caravanserai on the Tokra road to Darba before the Copper Hills, in the Hara river valley. His mother died in childbirth and his father didn’t really know what to do with him. He was always a loner as a kid, unusually for the Dunmari never really got along with his extended family.

When he was 17, he ran away, spend three years wandering by himself, increasingly bitter with his life. Until maybe four years later, when he was 21, he was crossing the river in the monsoon floods – foolishly, in retrospect – and was swept away downriver. In some desperate hope he threw his prayers to the gods hoping for salvation. He woke up in the back of a wagon, listening to dwarvish, and spent the next 10 years living among the Dwarves of Askandi, having been rescued by a dwarven trader.

He spent a lot of time wondering why he had been saved, until 7 years ago he returned to make amends, and found his family had inherited the overlordship of the caravanserai here from a distant relative. His father had thought him dead and blamed himself, and now was not well and just glad to make peace before the end. Now, he has taken over the duty of keeping people safe from his father, and sees that as the purpose he was saved for.