Aldrick grew up working in his father's smithy from a young age. Before he could properly talk, he was watching his father work at the anvil. It was a simple life for the two of them, and though he was a single father, Aldrick's Pa did his best to take care of his son, working to pass along the family trade as the boy grew.
All was well for some time, until his father suffered an accident at the forge. Many things can go wrong when smithing, but what did his father's career in was a crushed hand. That was the start of the end.
His father could no longer smith, and it was suddenly up to Aldrick to provide for the two of them. Luckily, Al was skilled at the task. Perhaps too skilled, as his father grew increasingly bitter. He took to drink, both to numb the pain of his hand, which had not healed correctly, and to forget about his inability to provide. Increasingly, father's time in the forge was less focused on instructing Alrick and more focused on berating him, and later escallating to beating him when he found the smallest flaw in his son's smithing.
Alrick grew to hate what his father had become. The loving man who cheerily worked at the forge was no more, spending all the coin Al earned smithing on drink. This went on for years before Alrick finally gathered the courage to leave.
He left without so much as a goodbye. Taking what he could carry as well as some money he'd hidden away from his father, Al set out on his own.
Alrick looked the man over, noting his fancy clothes and wondering if he was about to be scammed or robbed.
"The latter two, I suppose." He finally said. Al had not dropped his guard towards the man, and he tensely continued.
"Do you want something from me, or can I be on my way?"
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