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Dustin does not know much of his people but he remembers his father, uncles, his aunts, siblings, and his mother. The way they wore the dirt on their skin and walked the earth barefoot from island to island. Always on the move, it was crucial that he and all of those in his family knew how to haggle and while Dustin was too young at the time to hold any real responsibility, the children of the family were always kept close for them to learn. They found the hospitality of a mountainous clan who unknown to them were amidst a dispute with Donrai's Thrax over ownership of a neighboring mining colony. Overextending themselves, the Clan attacked the mining colony only to be wiped out by Thrax's retribution. Dustin's family found themselves caught in between the two, unable to get away. Those that were not killed, were thralled and put to work in the mines. From a child to an adult, this was Dustin's life. He rose up before the sun and left home after nightfall. Living hard sharpen Dustin and made his skin thick but even when he could barely afford a candle a night, he worked on his mind, engineering ways to make their life easier. He was rewarded with more books and the more he read, the more he yearned for the world and to be outside in the sun. He used his strength to compete among the other thralls and their wardens, knowing that fighting in the pit was the only real way of leaving this life behind because you either left in a coffin or were savage enough for an Islander noble to take notice of you. Still young, he established himself as an up and comer, only for the fight of his life to be canceled after the news of the abolishment of Thralldom reached their colony. Unable to support itself, the mining colony collapsed and the miners were given the option of taking some silver as reparation and a free boat ride to Arx. Knowing that someone like him had work anywhere, he took the silver and left his old life behind, hoping to learn more about designing and smithing to make a profession and a name for himself.

A man shorter than his kin, with a compact and muscular frame that accentuates his profession as someone who carries heavy things and works with his arms all day. His skin is alabaster when clean but turns ash from working in the mines. Sunken light ashen gray eyes peer through bony facial features. His face free from the distraction of hair because his coal colored hair is kept shaved to the skin on the sides with a mound that ties into a small tail on the top of his head. Despite good hygiene, there is always dirt under his nails.

There is a charm about the way he ignores the world around him. Some call him lazy, others aloof, but the fact of the matter is that he is the type to let things play out on their natural course. Though, when things require that he act, he does so with intelligence, precision, and charm. He never raises his voice and rarely takes any initiative in leadership, always preferring to work alone.