After The Sundering, the Vayemniri kingdom was removed from the Realms. Most Dragonborn were taken with it, but some were stranded. Those left behind became nomads. Wandering clans searching for a place to settle.

Clan Norixius was one such clan. Mostly they were merchants along with a small squad of soldiers for defending the goods and clan. I was one of those soldiers. Sworn to protect my clan or die. I failed to fulfill either of those oaths.

The clan was on the move, leaving market at Waterdeep and making our way to Baldur’s Gate. We had heard rumors the Cult of the Dragon was causing problems. Even that dragons had been more active of late. While we hate dragons like all good Vayemniri, we had not seen anything concerning. Then one night on the road between Daggerford and Dragonspear my world came crashing down.

The attack came swiftly, with no warning other than the flapping of huge wings. Our camp was bathed in flame and in the sudden light I saw the cursed dragon. Her roar rose above the screams of my dying clan. Rage washed over me. I grabbed up my sword and ran to meet her. Have you ever heard a dragon laugh? It is a terrible thing. But I cut her laughter short, and gave her a slash on the face to remember me by. Alas, that is all that I could do for my clan. The monster slammed me with a foreclaw and I knew no more.

When I awoke the next morning I found my entire clan dead around me and our caravan plundered. With the huge slash across my chest, the dragon must have thought me finished and left me for dead. In that moment I prayed to all the gods I knew, begging for the power to seek my vengeance. Torm answered me. If I would show courage and self-sacrifice, he would bless me with the power I would need to avenge my clan. Though I had failed in my first oaths to my clan, I will not fail in this one.


Dreams of a Blue Flame AndrewGatlin AndrewGatlin