Ever the loner, Mercator found unspoken companionship with the hereditary dream-spirit, Growing up following his parents between dig site and tomb excavation, he found ways to make himself useful, organsing layouts and calculating locations of tombs, and re-assembing aged contraptions.

He made his living in artifice, focusing not on cogs, chemicals and crystals foci, but astrolabes, runespheres and sextants, maintaining few personal connections, content in comparative isolation in his instinctive comradery.

After a recent trip to Baldurs gate, involving; a symposium on magical maps, a great deal of chaos, fire and grasping tendils, he hound himself waking up in a wrecked cephalopod.

Following recovery, he's found those still-quiet whispers of his lifelong companion urging this as evidence that more active involvement in current affairs, and this situation and growing magical capacity and opportunity to get out of civilization proper and see something new.