Lord Boroman ir'Dayne

Nature: NPC
Race: Hobbit
Class: Rogue 6 / Extreme Explorer 4
Allegiance: Wayfinder Foundation
Alignment: Neutral Good
Gender: Male

Information: In his youth, Lord Boroman was a great hunter and explorer. He led the only expedition ever to reach the Frostfell and return to tell the tale. He wrestled ogres in Droaam, fought chuuls in the Shadow Marches, and was the first hobbit to travel to Xen'drik and come back again.

Dayne amassed a fortune in his day, but during his final expedition to Xen'drik he contracted a slow, wasting curse that no magic has been able to reverse. He has a few years of life left, and while he no longer has the strength to explore on his own, he still wants to unlock the mysteries of the unknown.

To this end, he dedicated his fortune to establishing the Wayfinder Foundation — a guild for adventurers and explorers that funds dangerous expeditions to exotic locales, as well as giving bold adventurers a place to display their trophies and tell tall tales.

The Wayfinder Foundation is an exclusive organization. Membership is by invitation only, and offers are extended only to renowned adventurers and explorers. The Wayfinder Conclave manages the affairs of the Foundation. The conclave meets in Aundair, and all decisions are resolved by a majority vote. As long as he still lives, Lord Boroman ir’Dayne has the final say on all expenditures of foundation funds, even overriding decisions of the conclave. Despite his skills, Dayne has been crippled by the wasting curse and rarely leaves the foundation’s enclave in Fairhaven.

Boroman is a true philanthropist; he wishes to have his name attached to the great adventures of the future, since he himself can no longer participate in the adventures of the present. His one ulterior motive is the hope that an explorer may discover a cure for the strange wasting curse that is slowly sapping his life.

Description: Lord ir'Dayne weakens each day. The wasting curse he contracted on his last foray to Xen’drik ravages his body but leaves his mind intact. Still fierce and proud, Boroman walks the 4 blocks from his Shard Street home to the Conclave headquarters alone, leaning heavily on his cane but refusing the help of his friend Vikan’s aid.

Once inside the headquarters, the man fawns over Boroman as the hobbit limps up and down the corridors, smiling at trustees and employees alike as he inspires them with his tales of adventure. When he demonstrates how he fought chuuls in the Shadow Marches and sniped feral drow in Xen’drik, he swings his cane wildly, banging it against desks and walls.

His wasting curse remains as mysterious now as on the day he contracted it.

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