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Dask was never a very unique person, and had gave up the hope of ever
being a ‘someone’ at a very young age.Being born into the small, barely
noticeable clan of the Drakhorns, Brackden and his small family were
relatively high in the general hierarchy, as his father, The Great
Juktar, who had valiantly fought the rival clan, the Calverdi, and
succeeded in liberating their small clan from the Caldervi’s iron grasp,
but unfortunately passed from his wounds, surrounded by his vast
family, he passed peacefully. Brackden was only a child, fresh from the
womb for only 5 years, when he saw his father die. If you were to ask
him about his father, a sad glaze would wander over his dark, nearly
black eyes.. and he would answer. “I never knew the man, but from what I
have heard over the years, he was the very foundation of this clan. I
am honored to have his blood running in my veins.” With that, he would
curtly bow, bid you good day, and go on his way.
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