He sat hunched over a work bench, tinkering with something with gears and springs. It took him several moments to notice me but when he did he rose quickly. He wore a pair of blue jeans, somewhat out of place in Amber and he wore a black shirt concealing grease stains. His hair was unkempt, but the smile on his face seemed genuine. He wiped his hand on a rag before extending his hand to shake mine. “The names Dashell.”
Adepts of Doom

Dashell is the son of Delwin, but unlike him he appears to have no interest in politics. He has a passion for mechanical constructs, particularly time pieces.