Blackwell was born in the land of Almaris along the coast, to a small family under the rule of The Holy Orenian Empire. He struggled with focusing as a child and his mind always wandered. This daydreaming did not escape the notice of his father who would force him to work through the night to try to get his son to focus. He'd spent most of his free time wandering the forest and exploring further from his village day by day. Eventually, upon reaching adulthood, after working as a fisherman with his family he set out on his own. He wanted more than to live and die filling his belly and his pockets as a fisherman. He wanted to explore the world, meet people, and shape the world. But most of all, he wanted power enough to not be under anyone's control.
"Right now I'm just browsing the stands because it's been a long voyage, said Blackwell, "you're a friendly enough fellow aren't you?"
"You must know quite a bit around here to be greeting strangers," observed Blackwell.
The finely clothed gentleman replied, "Well I've been around town for a while, and I'm always happy to see a new face."
"Why don't you walk with me while I browse the stalls and tell me about this city. It must have treated you well for you to afford such fine attire. My compliments to the tailor by the way," said Blackwell.
"I suppose I have the time-," The finely clothed gentleman attempts to reply before Blackwell throws an arm around him and is walking along the stands.
"So tell me where can I get the best bit of food around here," Blackwell asks as picking of knickknack from one of the stalls, "I haven't had a decent bit of food the entire voyage, you would be amazed how boring stale bread becomes after a couple months journey."
The fine clothed gentleman replies, still slightly shaken by the abrupt interrogation he seems to have found himself in, "Well I would say the best bit of food in this town I would definitely say is.... The Painted Galleon! Without a doubt!
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