Minecart

Leofric Wren doesn’t say much, and that suits him fine. At 6’3” with a blacksmith’s build and forge-scarred arms, most folks assume he’s a sellsword or mercenary. They’re wrong—he’s a craftsman who can’t practice his craft anymore. Fire took his family four years back: his wife, his daughter, and his twin sons. The forge survived. He didn’t go back.
Now he wanders, taking labor work and keeping to himself. He’s built to create but spends his days breaking rocks and moving cargo. The irony isn’t lost on him. If you see him in a tavern, he’ll be in the corner, back to the wall, drinking alone. If there’s trouble, he’ll handle it—quickly, quietly, then leave before anyone can thank him. He’s not looking for friendship, glory, or redemption. Just trying to figure out if there’s any purpose left in hands that once shaped steel but now only seem capable of breaking things.