Grant was born in a rough village where survival mattered more than comfort. Raids, harsh winters, and barely enough work meant you had to learn fast or you didn’t last. From a young age he learned how to fight, how to read people, and how to keep going when things got bad.
He didn’t come from anything special, no wealth or noble name behind him. Everything he has comes from working for it. As he got older, he started taking jobs as a caravan guard and sometimes a sellsword, moving between towns and learning how different people live. He’s seen both sides of it, from nobles sitting safe in castles to regular people struggling just to get by, and it shaped how he sees loyalty and power.
Grant isn’t loud or the type to brag. He watches first, speaks when needed, and acts when it matters. He values loyalty over coin "unless he's paid enough", but he’s not naive about how the world works. He’s been in enough fights to know how things can turn, and he carries himself like someone who’s had to learn the hard way.
Now he’s come to the kingdom looking for something more stable. Whether that’s serving a house, joining a group, or making his own path, he just wants to earn respect and stand with people he can trust when things go bad, and maybe more.
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.))
“Came from a rough village, nothing worth naming,” he says, voice calm. “Place where you learn quick or you don’t last long.”
He leans back slightly, one hand brushing his moustache as his eyes flick to the floating candles, then back to her.
“I’ve been moving town to town, taking work where I can. Guarding caravans, swinging a blade when needed. Not looking for trouble, but I don’t run from it either.”
Grant exhales quietly, then straightens a bit in the chair.
“What I want is simple. A place to stay that isn’t falling apart, and people worth standing beside. Somewhere I can build something that actually lasts.”
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