The Exile: Your words carried weight with me, naabe. I may no longer be a worldbearer, but I still carry burdens. I need to find a way to rid myself of them.
Player: Perhaps the Eastern Lands is not for you? There aren't any gorajo here.
The Exile: How sure are you of that? I have heard rumours of a ramokee trading in The Hook region. Though I came to the east to escape my past, I also came in search of another exile - my brother... If I cannot be a worldbearer for the gorajo of my world, perhaps I can be a worldbearer for him... if I can find him.
Player: A brother? You should have said sooner. One of my captains has connections in that region. We'll get you there.
The Exile: I will require only sustenance and a place to lay my head.
Player: Welcome back. Did you find the other gorajo?
The Exile: Your captain's contacts were smugglers. They promised to reveal his location if I smuggled jewels for them.
Player: And you helped them?
The Exile: For a time. One smuggling trip became another, then another...but they gave me nothing. I reported them to the authorities. They were arrested and executed and I was banished from the island.
Player: It sounds like they took advantage of you.
The Exile: I was lucky. I should have been executed with them. It would have been just for my past crimes.
Player: What past crimes? Something you did back in Daemonheim? You said you weren't ramokee.
The Exile: And that was no lie. I said that I was not gorajo. I said that I was not ramokee.
Player: But you were ramokee once? A lie of omission is still a lie.
The Exile: It is not like that. I do not wish to speak of it.
Player: I prefer to know about the past of the people in my port - particularly if it threatens my people. If you want to use my ships, you need to tell me.
The Exile: I wish to apologise. You have shown me kindness and I have deceived you. You deserve to hear of my past. In truth, I do not know what I am.
Player: Go on...
The Exile: I was abandoned as a child. My parents could have been gorajo or ramokee. It does not matter. I was found and taken in by a ramokee skinweaver, and she became my challem. She was proud of her ramokee heritage and often would sing of it. Her music brought me much joy. It is her who the sirens reminded me of. My new tribe lived deeper within Daemonheim than any other tribe. We were tolerated - in part - because we numbered but a few, but it was mostly thanks to a deal struck with a man named Hearthen. The worldbearers of my tribe were tasked with carrying the imported wares down from the surface. My brother - my adopted brother - was our tribe's only bloodrager, and he was the one who dealt with Hearthen. He and the rest of our tribe would protect our caravan on the journey back down, but on one such trip, the caravan was ambushed. Everyone was killed, their throats slit. I...I survived, and I believe my brother did too. I have heard rumours that he fled to the east. I believe he is working in The Scythe region. Please, would you allow me use of one of your ships?
Player: Yes, of course. You have my leave. Go find him.
The Exile: It was him...but he is no longer family to me.
Player: Tell me what happened.
The Exile: We embraced at first and shared in our loss.
The Exile: But he has twisted his pain into something dark. As a bloodrager, he should be protecting his tribe, but those he runs with, he bullies. He has styled himself a mercenary, hiring out his services.
Player: I'm sorry to hear that.
The Exile: He said I should join him, be family again. At first, I wanted to, but...he wanted me to hurt someone, to prove my loyalty to him.
The Exile: He told me it was my new role, that I should join him as an 'Endbringer'. We do not use that role anymore - it is one the gorajo have long abandoned.
The Exile: I am a worldbearer. I carry the burdens of others, I do not cause harm to them! He has lost his way. I shall not bear his shame.
Player: I'm sorry things didn't turn out how you'd hoped. Thank you for telling me your story.
The Exile: There is more of my story I wish to share with you, if you wish to hear it, but some other time.
The Exile: I feel better. My mind is clearer. But something has been bothering me since I met with my brother. I wonder now how he survived the massacre.
Player: Don't you know? Weren't you with them when it happened?
The Exile: I...I was not, and it is my great shame...my guilt. Our last burden for Hearthren was to carry a load of strange black stones to the very bottom of Daemonheim. I was afraid of going that deep - the voices are everywhere, and their words entice dark thoughts. I...I was afraid...and so I hid. I was a coward. I waited alone for a long time, waited for my tribe to return to camp. When I finally plucked up enough courage to go looking for them, I found only their bodies. My challem still held on to life for a time - she told me to seek out my brother. I thought she had meant for our survival, as family, but now I wonder...
Player: Why do you wonder about your brother now?
The Exile: His actions in these Eastern Lands. He seems to have fallen into his new mercenary life so easily. The pain he inflicts on his men appeared to come to him as a second nature.
Player: I'm afraid I may have some bad news on that front. I have reports of a group of mercenaries wreaking havoc on the Isle of Juniper.
The Exile: I understand. I must go to him. Perhaps I can curtail his violent ways.
The Exile: The creatures of the Isle of Jupiter are poor, defenceless creatures - more docile than any mastyx. And yet my brother was killing them, taking neither hides nor meat. He was...enjoying it!
Player: What? Why would anyone do something like that?
The Exile: He was paid to do it! Paid to wantonly kill innocent beasts. He said it was his role, given to him by his contractor. And when I confronted him about what happened to our tribe, his anwer was so cruel and brazen. He did not survive the massacre - he perpetrated it! He would have killed me too had I been there. Had I not hid.
Player: Why would he do that?
The Exile: Our last job for Hearthen - the black stones. Once complete, we were to be tolerated no more, so that no other would hear of these stones. He bargained to be the hand to silence us in exchange for his own life. My family; my challem - I long to be with them again. I cannot go on with this knowledge - it is too much to bear. I wish it to end!
Player: No. You're a worldbearer. Carry this burden!
The Exile: Every day I continue to live has been paid for with the life of one of my tribe. I am not worthy of them. I should have died alongside them!
Player: You've got to snap out of this! Your brother needs to be stopped, and I'm going to need your help to do it. Maybe you SHOULD become Endbringer - his!
The Exile: No, I cannot!
Player: Did you at least find out something that might help us stop him?
The Exile: I...maybe. The man who hired him - his contractor - he is called Kakashi.
The Exile: I feel good, Portmaster. It will take some time to come to terms with my brother's betrayal, but I have vowed to not give up. At least not until his crimes are paid for.
Player: You seek revenge?
The Exile: I seek justice. And death is the justice he deserves, but I will not be the one to exact it.
Player: Why? Because you're a worldbearer and he's a bloodrager?
The Exile: In part. I am not strong enough....but I am also not worthy. I was a coward when I hid, and a coward again when finding him. I sensed his guilt deep down, but refused to believe myself. My challem tried to tell me, but I allowed grief to blind me. And above all, I am no warrior. He would crush me before I could capture him.
Player: I think I could maybe help you out with that.
The Exile: You would teach me how to fight?
Player: I can do you one better. I can arrange for you to spend some time with the Gu - they have a temple on Ashihama. There are no better warriors in the Wushanko Isles. I think you're going to get a lot out of their tutelage.
The Exile: At first, they got me cleaning, carrying, cooking and serving. These things I have done all my life, as is the role of a worldbearer. I was confused at first. Why were they just giving me such burdens, treating me like a worldbearer? They were supposed to be teaching me how to fight! The more burdens they gave me, the more my impatience grew.
The Exile: When one of the Gu masters asked me to massage his feet...I snapped.
Player: And so they just sent you back here?
The Exile: No. The Gu master said that now my training could begin! The Gu have wisdom about a great many subjects, but the thing they taught me most about was myself. They said I had to unlearn my past before I could learn anew. They taught me that I have not been a worldbearer for a long time, and that all I have lived to this point has already prepared me.
Player: So what do I call you now?
The Exile: The gorajo do not take names; they are their purpose. But I am not gorajo. The ramokee struggle alone; they are without purpose. But I am not ramokee.
Player: So what are you?
The Exile: I may be alone, but I have a singular purpose. I am Honovi! The name I take from an animal of our home. The honovi is a gentle creature, but is said to have an inner strength. It treads lightly on the world so as not to disturb it, but fiercely protects its own if endangered.
Player: The Gu have told me that you are welcome back to train with them anytime you wish.
The Exile: I shall continue to learn from them; I am still some way from the strength of my brother. One day, I shall be ready to face him. For now, I thank you once again...challem.