Far in the north, well beyond the archipeligo of Bolermos is a land that is rarely tread or journeyed to but by enterprising merchants. A land in near perpetual winter, Korgut's homeland is not for the weak. It's unforgiving landscape is difficult to traverse and even more so to survive. Most who live in that land have coelsced into tribes, including the dwarves who live in a rudimentary way compared to thier civilized brethren. Though they still build in the caverns of the mountains, they do not create the 'fine' arts of dwarves elsewhere. In a land so harsh, there is no time for vanity...

Korgut found himself drawn to the coast line and after years of wandering under the watchful eye of his spirit guide and guardian, made his way to the largest settlement on the southern coast. Though rather small by archipeligo standards, Greanol is a bustling seaport specializing in whaling and fishing. Trade is minimal during the best of seasons and though this is true, the dwarf somehow found his way onto a ship heading south to Bolermos.

Having just arrived, his story is yet to be told and his (comparitive) youth leaves much room for the spirits to guide him along his path to greatness.

"Bastard Ferals!" The Captain's voice seethed with rage as he held the "pretty rocks" Korgut had "innocently" given the man. Riding aboard the Long Wait had been a terrible experience for the dwarf as for one he was accustomed to being underground and for another he hated large bodies of water. As a matter of fact he'd gone so far as to panic and call up his spirit guardian on the main deck which set about throwing crewman overboard... though that's another story best told over a tall mug of darkbrew.

With a light chuckle, Korgut knelt upon the stone paveways of the Foreign Docks built into the cliffs of the great island. All along the hundreds of feet of rocky cliff, old coral beds formed the archways of windows and the platforms of cleverly made balconies. He shook his head ruefully as he glanced upward at the City of No Names. He'd heard of this place and the entire Bolermos archipeligo even in his small tribal community beneath the Wyvern's Fang Mountains. The stories of fame and fortune poured from this place like water when the world was broken.

Dis be der place I'll be makin' meself famous aye? Heh heh heh, dey won't know what hit'em! ...Wonder how der ale be heer?

Arching above him nearly thirty feet, a tunnel bore into the cliffside from the docks. His clever dwarven eyes saw much and little at the same time. The stonework drew his eyes away from the masses moving to and fro over the docks. Travelling upwards as much as possible he bumped and pushed his way through the crowds as best he could though he was in no hurry. With his mind wandering back to his ancestral home, he did little to notice the little hand working into a hip pouch.

Suddenly, the tunnel blazed with light as a tear in the fabrics of the planes opened, spitting out what looked like a crow in blaze of feathers and darkness. Korgut glanced up with a raised brow as the bird darted straight at him. Rather than land on his shoulder as Garundi often did, the corporeal crow began harrassing a small figure at the dwarf's side. Looking over he noticed for the first time the lass who'd been digging through his pouch. With a light chuckle he whispered a few words towards the pair and the spirit bird flew a quick circle before landing on his shoulder.

"Now der lassy, it be takin' quite der 'fence ter set off Garundi like dat. Whatchu be doin dat work her up so?" A slight grin played on the shaman's face as he watched the lass squirm in fright, pressed against the wall as many in the tunnel had around him. Glancing around he burst into laughter. "Calm ye'selves... calm. She jus' be me spirit guide is all, harmless really less ye be wrongin' me."

"I.... I ... I'm sorry sur... I was bein' hungry tis all." The lass quivered in fright for a long while under the steady gaze of Korgut and Garundi. When the dwarf grinned she cringed in fright as if expecting a blow.

"Well den, less make a deal aye? You be givin' me dem rocks an' take me to der place wit' der bes' ale and I'll be buyin' ye a meal aye? Mayhap two..." With that, the shaman turned up a tunnel and was given a wide berth by any who'd seen the spirit crow burst onto the scene. Nearly whining in fright, the lass caught up with him and walked silently beside pointing out tunnels to take up through the rock. As they reached the surface she headed straight for a little place she knew where adventurers tended to stay. It was the only place she could think of in the Foreign Quarter that could draw a savage's mind away from a poor beggar girl...

It didn't take long for the pair to make thier way into the common room where the dwarf took an open table in the center of the room. Garundi on his shoulder watched around them intently as he waved down a servant girl. From inside his rough leather armor he produced a small bag from which he pulled a few gold coins, foreign to these lands but gold nonetheless. He thought ruefully about the years supply of herbs he'd exchanged for these meager few coins. With a small shrug he ordered an ale and a meal and a glass of fresh milk, listening intently to the goings on about him.