Username: eragon43 Discord Username: swordlord43 Full Name: Robin Moore Gender: male Age:18 Date of birth:15 january 2387S Place of birth: A hut near a forest Current residence: none Job: open for business Interests and hobbies: reading, herbology and archery Religious Belief: Marventa, having spent so many nights under the stars I have come to appreciate their beauty Signature Item: A simple reliable bow, the one I have used since my childhood Background: My life started on a cold snowy winter day in the light of a blazing fireplace. I was raised by my uncle. As such, I never knew my mother or my father. My uncle was always reluctant on telling me about my parents. In part because he did not know the full story himself, but also because, as he always said: “I’ll tell you when you’re older”. I tried for many years to get the story out of him, but it was to no avail. He had always been a very stubborn man, a trait he had succeeded in imprinting on me. This continued until my fifteenth birthday, a very special day in our corner of the region as it was considered the age at which a boy became a man. On the night of my fifteenth birthday, after a fair few drinks shared between us, my uncle came to me. What he said to me that night will always be etched into my memory “Son, the time has come. You are a man now and as such, you deserve to know now how you were put onto this world” Of course I was very excited. I had been angling after this story for years! After all this time I was finally going to discover my story. “Before I can start I must remind you that even I do not know the full story, and I need you to know that I will always consider you as my son, no matter where or who you came from... As you know, it was midwinter when you were born. It was an especially cold and snowy day. I had just brought in some more wood to stoke the fire and keep the cold out. I was just about to sit down when a loud knocking sound sounded from the door. I thought to myself that one would have to be mad to be out in this weather! It was freezing outside and several feet of snow had already fallen. I thought I must have imagined it, until the knocking sounded again. So I went to open the door. Imagine my surprise when your mother stumbled inside. I hadn’t heard from her for at least ten years. Imagine then how much more surprised I was when I saw that she was in the final stages of pregnancy! She explained that she needed help and that she could not stay very long. It seemed as though she was on the run from something, but she refused to tell me what was wrong. How she had even managed to get here through several feet of snow with the pregnancy so far along will always remain a mystery to me. Anyway, there wasn’t even much time for discussion as it didn’t take long for her to enter labour. It was an especially difficult delivery with your mom being as weakened as she was, but after several hours you finally emerged. Your high-pitched wail filled the room as I held you in front of the fire. It took your mother several days to recover, but being as strong as she was, she eventually pulled through. She slept for days on end and when she finally woke up she decided on calling you Robin, although she refused to give you a family name and tell me who your father was. And so I decided to give you my family name: “Moore”. Even though she was severely weakened from your birth she insisted she had to go. She refused to explain why and insisted that it was for our own safety. She begged me to take care of me, as she would be unable to. I initially refused but she didn’t leave me much choice. So I agreed, and after night had fallen I went to bed. When I rose in the morning it was to discover that your mother had disappeared into the night. There was no trace she had been there except for the baby wrapped in blankets by the embers of the fire. So my son, that was how you came to be in my life.” In the years following my birth, my uncle raised me as his own. I think he saw me as a sort of second chance as his wife had died following the stillbirth of his first child. Although my uncle wasn’t a man of much emotion, every once and a while I would find him holding a necklace that had belonged to the wife he had buried. We lived in a small house in the middle of a forest. We chose to live a few miles from the village as we didn’t like the hustle and bustle of being near it. This also meant that we didn’t really have any protection from outside threats and bringing our produce to the market proved to be a real challenge. This meant that we had to be pretty self-sufficient. So my education began once I reached an appropriate age. He taught me everything he knew. He taught me how to work the land and how to use the products of nature. He taught me the letters and the numbers, a very special skill for a farmer in our region, although it has proven its use on multiple occasions. When I was old enough he taught me how to hunt. He made me practice shooting with a bow until I was able to reliably hit a target. I learned how to recognize tracks and how to skin the animals I successfully shot. I learned how to survive in the wilderness and how I could recognize and use the plants in my environment. When I was twelve he took me on my first hunt. We tracked through the forest for days on end. He questioned me relentlessly on what he had taught me. We finally managed to track down a rabbit which I successfully managed to shoot and skin. It was a meagre catch but I was nonetheless very proud of it. This happened a few more times until one day until he was sure I was capable enough. And so, a few months after my sixteenth birthday he sent me out on my first solo hunt. “You have learned everything I can teach you. It is time that you go on your first real hunt”. We shared a hug and I left for the hunt, alone. It was halfway through spring and the forest was starting to come alive. It took me a few days, but I managed to track down a herd of deer. I chose a young deer with an obvious limp, as I knew it wouldn’t be long before it would be taken down by a wolf or another predator. I pulled out my bow and slowly snuck my way closer, as to not scare the herd away. I notched the arrow back until I felt the feathers of the arrow tickle my cheek. I let my breath go and watched the arrow fly straight at the target, hitting it precisely in the heart, killing it instantly. I skinned it and packaged the meat. I left the innards out for the other animals to eat and I started to make my way back home, proud of such a successful hunt. My happiness was short-lived however. As I got closer to home I began to notice a heavy smell of smoke that was getting stronger and stronger. I became very worried and hurried to reach my home. The sight that greeted me as I left the forest was truly horrendous. There was nothing left of my house but a pile of ash, and no sign of my uncle. I searched the remains for hours until I found a burnt skeleton with a half melted dagger still stuck between the ribs, right where the heart would be. I knew right then that this could not have been an accident. I searched for any clues i could find, until I managed to find a pair of bootprints In the mud. I tried to follow them but I couldn't track them further than the edge of the forest, where the tracks just suddenly dissapeared.