Born in a fallen empire prison planet, Dal grew up surrounded by strife and violence. Although never very physically imposing, Dal survived through a mixture of hard earned street smarts and a natural quick wit. Rising from the bottom of the filth, Dal managed to acquire enough credits to have a stable shelter, and the guarantee of at least one meal a day. from there, by campaigning with the other downtrodden, be it speeches at seedy bars, or putting up posters in a jazz club, Dal spent the better part of his life climbing the political ladder, until he finally had a home planet that was a half-decent place to live. Retired now, Dal wanders the galaxy, seemingly living out his grey fox years with the intent of wandering until the end.

5

Oath, 12. Dutybound, 3.

A well weathered old grey fox, sly and light on the feet. not physically imposing at a glance, but when the old bastard speaks, he commands a presence of firm respect and disarming warmth. Hidden in a clean, black long coat accentuated with dark purple seams and trim, bound with polished black buttons and a plain black silk belt. beneath the fine coat and hat, however, lies a more utilitarian set of pouches and hiking boots.