Hailing from the far off continent of Faerun and the even further distant lands of Chessenta, Kadmos has ventured to Falanar in search of academic adventure and is driven by a desire to further his arcane studies.
Possessing a striking figure and a distinct lack of pants, Kadmos landed on the sandy shores of Akarn after nearly four years at sea. By the time he had arrived, he was utterly starved, dehydrated, and barely able to steer the ship into the land. This spelled the end for his ship, and the bodies of the crew members that accompanied him littered the hold of his small vessel. The crash had, tragically, severed the man's arm and left him all but hopeless in the face of nature's fury, the desert's heat only furthering the process of baking the once proud scholar.
In perhaps the only stroke of good fortune in his entire voyage, Kadmos had been picked up by a passing caravan headed back to Akarn. A city of skeletons always had been for more bones, and Kadmos had arrived with an entire ship full of them, his own likely intended to join the pile. When he was loaded onto the cart, however, he was mistaken for a reanimated corpse, his gaunt appearance more akin to a zombie than a man, and in a fit of desperation, Kadmos has used what little energy he still had to compile a pile of bones into a vaguely humanoid skeleton shape to defend him. The last act of his dead crewmates, to continue his life despite his very idea being the thing that killed them, sacrificing a powerful artifact to do so.
Irony, or a mockery of their deaths? Desperate times and such.
Once the caravan had realized he was, in fact, not a corpse, he was given what care they could provide until he was back to Akarn. Though still in a grave condition, he was given water and shelter, food and medicine, and he began to accumulate a considerable debt to the people who cared for him. After several months, Kadmos had regained the strength to move, though his body had atrophied so considerably that he was barely recognizable. The fit, imposing figure now giving way to the stark, jagged appearance that earned him his nickname among the people of Akarn.
Though he had earned himself a debt from which he may never recover from, Kadmos's pride dictates he repay the debt that is owed one way or another. His magical research having been primarily on necromancy as it was, his skills in mending and reanimation were invaluable among the people primarily made up of bones. As such, after a few more months with them, Kadmos had devoted his studies almost entirely to the pursuit of necromancy as a school to be studied and explored. With the help of some local alchemists and specialist in the field, he was able to have a skeletal arm grafted on to replace the one he lost, though it ultimately paled in comparison to the flesh and blood one he'd become so fond of over his life.
In his second year in Akarn, Kadmos had become fairly acquainted with the city and had set up a small research building of his own. This didn't last, however, as he was soon struck by wanderlust once more, though at least he knew he always had somewhere to return to.
Secretly, however, Kadmos had realized that his bringing living, breathing, flesh and blood people on his escapades would only get more and more people harmed. The guilt of an entire crew of dead friends who will never return to their lives in Chessenta hanging over him like a storm cloud in his darkest moments, causing him to devise his first serious accomplishment in what became nearly three years on Falanar. A magical object that could bind a set of bones or a corpse to him, leaving the creature's soul intact and only animating the long dead body. There was certainly no way to make necromancy a family friendly affair even for the most open minded of people, but this way he would have the protection he needed and would never risk the lives of another walking flesh bag of hopes and aspirations again.
Well...that was the plan, anyway.
Currently, Kadmos still sends a portion of the coin he makes on his jobs back to Akarn as payment for saving his life. The exact debt is unknown and, very likely, lost to memory. Regardless, the debt remains, and the debt must be repaid.