Connorrrrrr

Coen sat by the campfire. He glances over at his flimsy boots and grimaces. "looks like i'll have to go in and get supplies." He looks over to the eyes across the fire. The reflection of the fire makes him grin. "low on bowstrings, almost out of drink and salt." The smoke passed over a leg of a good sized stag. Good eating. He places down a skin of wine and pulls out his pipe. "Haven't been into civilisation in a while." Coen had been doing rather well lately. Well fed, belly full of drink and warm. He packed the bowl of his pipe with some dried chaga, thumbed it in and took a twig from the fire. He looked to the eyes across the fire. "Rather not go in. This is my life. Got to used to what civilised living can provide." He lights the pipe and inhales the sweet tasting smoke. Warm. He exhales blowing smoke towards the eyes. "Try keep my head out of trouble."

Coen was born and raised in a forest outside of Rivia. His mother and father lived a simple life, just a cabin in the woods. They made coin selling hides, meat, dried herbs and wood to surrounding settlements. Followed in his fathers footsteps, A man of the woods. Hunting, Collecting hides and all the other riches the forest has to offer. Grew to be a strong young man as he learnt the way of the forest. His father was handy with a sword and would go serve lords for extra coin. Coen learnt to fight with sword and axe as his father did, The coin his father brought home usually covered repair costs, seemed a man should learn to fight. Life was a steady cycle of hunting, gathering and setting out to the settlements and selling what they had. Settlements brought excitement, friendship, women and drink. 

His youth and young adulthood had shaped him well both physically and in the way of the world. Although the way of the world was interesting, his true passion was for the forests. He began to venture out, challenge himself with hunts into the snowy mountains and learn the hidden lessons found in being alone, surviving.

He joined his father in combat one spring, better coin and better chances of coming back with the two of them going. Turned out well, Coen was a good shot with a bow and had a strong, fast arm with the sword. They came home with more coin, able to buy extra luxuries. As it does there came a day his father fell in a conflict, His mother passed and he was alone. He wasn't hurt by their passing, he was a man of the forest. Life and death are all a part of nature. He Took their passing as a sign, a sign he was no longer tied to the cabin. He packed all the belongings into the roof of the cabin, boarded it up and set out. 

He tapped the ashes out of his pipe onto the fire and packed away his pipe. Running his knife along the bone of the stag the last piece of meat drops onto a wooden bowl. "sleep soon. Be in town tomorrow and i'll have to have my wits about me." He got up and looked to his hide bedroll and then to the stag carcass. "Been doing well."