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BelgianMoss

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  1. BelgianMoss

    Mukumbura

    Samuel Foster, born in the bustling port city of Sutica to a working class family of Haeseni descent, would begin his life in a poorly furnished apartment building across the water from a large populated dockyard. His father, Jason Foster, and his mother, Caroline Foster, were both respectively a hardworking dock laborer and a local seamstress. Samuel, or 'Sammy' as he was affectionately called by his mother and the locals who knew him well, grew up fairly poor but with just enough money to learn how to read and engage in homebrewed swordsmanship lessons from his overworked and underpaid father. Eventually as he matured he would go on to follow in his father's footsteps, alongside his two similarly aged brothers, in the art of lifting heavy boxes for merchants that got payed hundreds of times more then your meager wage. Samuel would grow up in this world, one where the sick rolled about in their filth while the foreign captains of trade profited off of every good flowing to and from the cities vibrant markets. Eventually he would form what he would refer to as a generous philosophy of collectivism, wanting to spread the wealth around to those who needed it most dearly. During his time working in Sutica he would meet several people he would grow to consider his working family, and some less savory folk he would commonly refer to as "Those bloody Pikers.". Piker was his own special little slur for those he found distasteful, and though he was usually a very jolly considerate man his blunt sense of cynical humor and unwavering sarcasm would very often land him in heaps of trouble with other workers. At the same time his values were sternly solidifying due to the teachings of his Haeseni family, he valued family, honor, and stoicism above all else and continues to sport these things broadly to this day. Another thing that would occur within these formative times, just before his departure from the city of Sutica to continue on his quest to bring prosperity to the downtrodden a few years later, was his experience with a local mystic that would assault himself and a companion in an alleyway after a nigh of much alcohol. This would lead to his distrust of magic users, and the subsequent death of his friend Harold at their hand was not a help towards his perception of them. He now ravels the countryside in hopes of finding an organization fitting of his communalist views on the world and economics, functioning as a joyous yet sickeningly honest sword for hire only interested in the best for those he sees as in need of help.
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