Derecho the Touched, or Iosen Donegat as he was known before his awakening, hailed from a small fishing village on the Clarkskill Sound. The Donegats were known as successful fishermen whose advice was often sought after and who were awarded with a fair amount of respect form their peers. Even the women of the family tended to be leaders in the small community, seconding as midwifes and herbalists in times of need. Iosen was born a strong, healthy, and extremely bright minded youth who quickly outgrew the confines of the small fishing village yet had not the opportunity to leave.
As he aged, Iosen learned that either due to his family name or his own magnetic personality he had an easy way of influencing those around him. Though capable of hard work and making a living at the arduous family trade, fishing didn’t fulfill him as it did his brothers. Instead, he began cultivating a reputation for laziness and being a trouble maker.
At 15 he was married to a fisherman’s daughter whom Iosen had supposedly deflowered. Bringing further shame to his family, Iosen’s new father-in-law, claimed that the fishing net and skiff that Iosen had stolen on a night’s drunken revelry was the only dowery that he’d get and so Iosen was burdened with a wife and a trade for which he resistant to pursue.
Iosen was far from a good father or husband or even a provider. He was frequently absent from home even though he apparently had no difficulty in fathering children. In fact, his ability to father sons was only succeeded by his ability to find women to share his bed with and it was rumored there were several bastard children born of his trists throughout the neighboring villages.
He fished when he was broke or when his brothers would drag him from the various local watering holes or from the gutters where he had passed out drunk from the drinking or the fights from the night before. It was, in fact, after one of these long nights where Iosen found himself piloting his small fishing skiff after a long, hot day with no fish to show for his labors. As was custom to his locality, his small skiff had a small, makeshift shrine to Istishia, the god of storms and oceans, to keep the ship and the owner safe so that he may return from the sea with a bountiful catch. Lashing out he kicked an oar which clattered against the shrine, breaking the driftwood ornament. Blinded by his anger and the pain of his hang over he cursed Istishia for her fickle attentions as was struck dead, from a bolt of lightning.
Iosen was found unconscious in his skiff adrift in the sound. A healer was brought in from a neighboring village who administered herbs and healing droughts for the burns on his body. When Iosen finally awoke a fortnight or so later, his body and health had been decimated by the lighting bolt which had also bleached out all of the color of his hair.
It was from this point in which Iosen was finally able to see what a ruin his life had been. He noticed that one of his younger brothers had not only been feeding his family but had been rearing his children and teaching them the trade that Iosen, himself, had despised. His wife, with whom he could only remember having bitter feelings for, seemed to pine over his younger brother as he was a Donegat worthy of the name.
Using a knife to carve his last testament on the drying shed where he had been left to heal he wrote, “Iosen Donegat died here, punished by Istishia for his many foul deeds and blasphemies. May his wife and children find blessings and prosperity that he was unable to give. He tasks his family, the Donegats, to become wards of his family, to raise his children to be dutiful and god fearing and to provide for his wife who’s known naught but hardship. May his sins be washed away with the outgoing tide so as not to pollute the waters of this village.”
With that, Iosen left the village taking the name Derecho an old form of the name of the severe, damaging windstorms that preceded much larger, rain driven storms, which was how Iosen had viewed his former life; a damaging windstorm that preceded the might of Istishia, may all fall before her in homage to her might.