Warren was born in the bustling human city of Providence, the second son of a cooper and a washerwoman who spent most of their lives trying to stay afloat rather than chase glory. He grew up in the dockside districts, surrounded by sailors, laborers, traders, and the constant noise of carts and hammering workshops. From a young age, Warren learned that honest work mattered more than noble blood, and he spent his childhood carrying lumber, cleaning stables, and running errands for craftsmen who barely remembered his name. Though he lacked formal education, he developed a sharp eye for people and a quiet determination that often went unnoticed by those around him.
His father hoped Warren would inherit the family trade, but the business slowly fell apart after bad harvests and rising taxes made life in Providence harder for common folk. Warren watched neighbors turn to mercenary work, banditry, or drink, yet he stubbornly clung to the idea that a man could still build something worthwhile through labor and persistence. He became fascinated by caravans and traders arriving from across the realm, listening to stories of distant settlements, frontier towns, and opportunities beyond the crowded city streets. While others dreamed of knighthood or adventure, Warren simply wanted stability, purpose, and the chance to make a name for himself through his own hands.
After his father passed from illness during a harsh winter, Warren decided there was little left keeping him in Providence. Taking what little coin he had earned through years of odd jobs, he joined a merchant caravan heading deeper into Aevos in search of work wherever it could be found. Though still inexperienced and ordinary by most standards, Warren carries with him a stubborn work ethic and the belief that even the smallest man can someday shape the fate of something greater than himself. Whether he becomes a respected tradesman, a wealthy merchant, or something far more important remains to be seen, but Warren intends to earn every step of that journey himself.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
((How does your character respond? Please ensure your response is at least six sentences long, and uses at least two actions.))
Example: (delete this when you add your own)
Warren hesitates at the doorway before stepping inside, pulling his worn cloak tighter around his shoulders as he eyes the floating candles with visible unease. He slowly lowers himself into the chair and rubs his hands together before muttering, “Providence… that’s where I come from.” His gaze drifts toward the shack’s dusty floor as he lets out a dry chuckle. “My family were tradesfolk by the docks — coopers, laborers, washerwomen — honest people trying to survive.” Warren reaches into his satchel and absentmindedly turns a small iron tool in his hand before looking back at the old hag. “I don’t know if I’m meant for greatness, but I know how to work, how to endure, and maybe one day I’ll build something worth remembering.”
Recommended Comments