1. Characters

Drogar Frostfoot

This character is dead.
The Cursed Merchant
NPC
City of Hojo in Y’azi Peninsula

Drogar Frostfoot hails from the icy wastelands of Norska, a land known for its harsh climate and even harsher inhabitants. Born into a proud dwarven tribe, Drogar was raised with tales of valor and battle, the echoes of his ancestors' deeds ever present in the frozen air. His tribe worshipped Valkur, the Khaos God of War, and were steadfast in their devotion, believing their strength came from their unyielding faith.

However, the valor of Drogar's life was shattered when the united Tribes of Khaos, led by the formidable Warrior-King Varaghast Ghuul, unleashed a cataclysmic assault on his homeland. Drogar's tribe fought valiantly, but they were ultimately overwhelmed by the relentless forces of chaos. On that fateful day, Drogar was returning from a trading voyage to the Unknown, only to find his home razed to the ground and his people annihilated.

With no home to return to and nothing left but his memories, Drogar set out once more on the road, trading his wares wherever he could find a willing buyer. His travels took him to the far corners of the world, from the scorching wastes of the Forlorn Flames of Fyrashan to the verdant jungles of Tigre, and finally to the bustling City of Hojo. It was in Hojo that Drogar found a semblance of stability, plying his trade among the city's eclectic denizens.

Drogar quickly gained a reputation for the unique and often cursed artifacts he carried. Many whispered that he was a sorcerer, as his wares seemed to have a dark allure. One of his most notable transactions was with the legendary Tortle musician, Donatello. Drogar sold Donatello an Onyx Crown, an artifact of dubious origin, for the price of gained notoriety. Donatello, in turn, spread the word of Drogar's peculiar wares across the city, drawing in a curious clientele.

In recent times, Drogar found himself at The Dragon's Roar, negotiating business with Ren-Li, before a fellow wanderer named Chance stumbled upon them. Over mugs of frothy ale, Drogar recounted the tragic end of his people and the futility of their worship of Valkur. He spoke of how their unwavering devotion brought them not fortune, but only war and destruction.

Much mystery surrounds Drogar Frostfoot. His past is filled with shadows and half-truths, and he speaks little of the time before his tribe's fall. Some say he carries the weight of his people's legacy, while others believe he is haunted by the spirits of the cursed artifacts he peddles.

The Death of Drogar

Skald, The Shattered

Amidst the chaos within the shattered corpse of Skald, The Shattered, Drogar Frostfoot met his end in one final, glorious battle against the Unknown Warrior-King, Varaghast Ghuul. After decades of concealing his past, of refusing to acknowledge the blood-soaked legacy of his fallen people, he finally embraced it—not as a burden, but as a weapon.

As The Sunsations waged war within the corpse of the Ice Elementari, facing endless waves of Khaos Spawn, Drogar tore through the battlefield like a beast possessed. His dwarven axe clove through warped horrors, and his once-hidden Khaos Markings of Valkur burned upon his skin, awakening the fury of his ancestors. With each kill, his movements became wilder, more frenzied, the cold precision of his strikes devolving into pure, unrelenting savagery.

Even Azrythal, the Wight-Wyrm, was not beyond his wrath. As the undead dragon bore down upon the Sunsations, Drogar fought alongside them to bring the beast low, his icy breath steaming with exhaustion but his spirit unshaken. When the final blow was struck, he did not pause to bask in victory—his eyes were set upon Varaghast Ghuul, the butcher of his people, the warlord whose shadow had loomed over him for all his years.

Drogar lunged at Varaghast, his fury unchained, his axe hungry for vengeance. He struck with the might of a warrior unburdened by the past, knowing that this was his last stand. He fought not for survival, nor for victory, but to die a warrior’s death, to carve his name into the annals of history as more than a merchant, more than a drifter—as a warrior of Norska.

But Varaghast Ghuul was no mere warlord. The Wraith-Lord met Drogar’s charge with cold amusement, letting him carve through his spawn before raising a single palm to his head.

For a moment, all fell silent.

Then, riftfire erupted.

In a heartbeat, Drogar Frostfoot was reduced to cinders, his body turning to nothing but smoke and ash.

The Sunsations cried out in rage and sorrow, but there was no body left to mourn. He was gone—burned away by the very force of unmaking.

Yet, even as he perished, he died as he always wished to: in the throes of battle, drenched in the blood of his enemies, and unshackled from the past that had once haunted him.

March 10th, 2025