Teluria- The Fractured World
de facto constable of the trading caravan
Mordal Anvilhammer is the “younger” of two Quargoth brothers, and has become the constable of the trading caravan established by his brother. The two started out as treasure hunters, searching for an elusive fortune that would set them up for life. Wandering the wastelands for years, following up on any tenuous lead that they hoped would lead them to a mountain of the forgotten riches of the ancients.
Mordal is the more serious of the two, often referred to as “the brute of the family” by his brother Cael. Mordal ignores the jibes as he sees it as validation for the expediency of his methods. However, the two brothers do quarrel at times as all siblings do, and sometimes the escalating arguments turn into entertainment for the rest of the caravan company. Only once did one of their disagreements result in something more serious. During one of their expeditions, they came across a rag-tag band of thieves that had ambushed the archaeologist Warick and his party. From a distance, Mordal had drawn a bead on their leader with his rifle. At the last second, just as he was pulling the trigger, Cael kicked him and whispered, “Don’t kill him, just scare ’em off!”
Of course, Mordal’s shot went wide and only winged the bandit leader. The startled gang was sent into a panic by the unexpected shot, and they turned tail and ran. Furious at Cael for ruining his shot…and letting the gang leader live to perhaps waylay their own caravan and make off with the brothers’ wagons full of supplies and treasure in the future…Mordal set out on his own to “tie up some loose ends” as he put it. Cael, ready for another one of their brotherly squabbles, stood there slack-jawed as Mordal simply went about gathering up some gear and tying his bedroll to his saddle. He mounted up and rode out of camp, turning briefly to remind his brother to be safe while he was away “taking care of this business”. Cael had seen that set jaw and look of determination on Mordal’s face before and knew that he would simply have to wait on his stubborn younger brother to return on his own terms. He waited patiently for a few days, perhaps a week, before he let his concern show. The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, and still no sign of his brother. Cael continued to conduct the business of the caravan, but looked for any possible information about his brother’s fate whenever he could. All of the leads turned up cold, and Cael had almost resigned himself to accepting the fact that the gang must have gotten the better of his brother, who was likely dead in a gully somewhere in the wastes.
Almost a year to the day that Mordal had rode out, a lone rider haggardly rode into the caravan camp. As the rider walked up to Cael, he simply stated, “It’s done.” Mordal finally caught up to the gang leader and several of his men as they were attacking a livery stable at a small settlement on the edge of the wastes.