Storyboards: Domchak

Domchak awoke with a start. His adjust adjusted slowly to the pre-dawn light. Wiping an arm across his eyes, he blinked to clear the fog.
Another morning, another town, another map, thought Domchak.
He'd begun his journey a month before, leaving his small village in Sendaria. He'd had only the vaguest of directions in his mind when he departed. It seems so long ago, now the sorcerer mused.
Domchak remembered the visit, that bright sunny day. He'd been outside, concentrating on holding his Will for as long as he could. A tall, proper-looking gentleman had rode up on his grey roan. Domchak had studied the face of this hawk-nosed thin man, and found no discerning clues as to what brought about the stranger's visit.
“You there,” said the stranger, “could you please tell me where I could find Domchak of Sendar?”
Domchak nodded. “I'm Domchak, who might you be, sir?” The lean stranger dismounted, and opened his saddlebag flap.
“Pendelgast is the name, good Domchak. I am here about your uncle's estate.”
Domchak nodded, and tried to remember his uncle, a man of many years gone past. He had only known him briefly, before the man had left to join the Cherek Navy as a navigator.
Pendelgast withdrew some papers from his saddlebag. He looked closely at them, then cleared his throat. “Domchak of Sendaria, I regret to inform you that your uncle has passed. His last will and testament has bequeathed his sole heir his entire estate. Pending a few considerations, of course.”
Domchak took a moment to digest what the Pendelgast had told him. An uncle he barely knew was now gone. Considerations? thought Domchak.
Pendelgast gave the young man a moment, and continued.
“Your uncle was, you may know, a navigator. His entire life was spent serving His Majesty King Anheg of Cherek. His possessions, for the most part, are copies of every map that he'd put his hand to creating. Those maps, good Domchak, are yours as his sole heir.”
Domchak swallowed. Maps, he thought, What am I to do with maps?
Pendelgast went on once more. “There are a few considerations, as I mentioned. The first is that you are required to journey to Jarviksholm to claim the maps, and the second is that you use them to continue your uncle's work.” Domchak nodded at the lean man, and asked,
“When do I have to be there?”
“Within a month of receiving this visit,” said Pendelgast, “Once you have the maps in your possession, you are free to explore them at your convenience. As you can probably tell, your uncle's estate has no way of ensuring the second condition is met.
“Once you have the maps in your possession, you are free to explore them at your convenience. As you have probably already surmised, you're uncle's estate has no way of ensuring that the second condition is met, but he had faith that you would acquiesce to his wishes.”
Domchak shook the man's hand, and the lean man remounted his roan.
“Remember, within a month you must be in Jarviksholm to receive the maps.” And with that, the man turned his horse and rode away.
Domchak had spent the next few days getting his affairs in order, and had struck out to the nearest port. He'd hoped to buy his way onto a Cherek bound ship. It was summer, and although Domchak had not been through the Bore, he'd heard that he'd better get moving as quickly as possible to avoid any delays in his voyage.
The young sorceror had struck a bargain with the captain of the ship, and had climbed aboard the sturdy looking vessel.
Thoughts of strange, faraway places drifted into his head as he leaned over the rail and watched the swell of the ocean. He'd spent almost his entire life within a few leagues of the place of his birth, and began to relish the idea of seeing many of the things that he'd heard about from wandering storytellers.
Their stories had contained exotic, far away places that contained different peoples, from the Knights of Arendia to the Snake Peoples of Nyissia. Domchak had thought that one day he'd see them, but now it seemed that he would get his chance.
The voyage around the bore was frightful enough, even though the captain had chuckled when Domchak had nervously watched the swells become more and more animated with every league they sailed.
Finally, they had reached the Port of Jarviksholm, and Domchak shook the good captain's hand. He grabbed his pack and leapt onto the dock, throwing his pack over his shoulder.
Following the directions that Pendelgast had left him, Domchak found the boarding house that his uncle had last lived in. Domchak gave the housemaster a few coins, and the man pointed to a small chest.
Within, Domchak found the maps his uncle had spent his life collecting. Ocean maps, shorelines, depth markings all revealed the touch of a master navigator. Various unnamed islands dotted the charts, and each of the Western Kingdom's shorelines were clearly marked. Domchak thanked the man profusely, and had requested a room for the night.
Lying in his bed that night, Domchak began to plot out his course. Southwards from Cherek, he would once again enter Sendaria. From there, he would continue southward, following the coastline.

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