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Bremon
Bremon
| Name | Bremon |
|---|---|
| Occupation | Metalsmith |
| Age | Young |
| Race | Man |
|---|---|
| Residence | Wanders, stays in various inns |
| Kinship | None |
| Outward Appearance | Slender, and tall. His shoulder length brown hair often dirty from long travels to find work, and often blackened with soot from the forges. His pale green eyes often seem cold and distant, his skin is rough and worn, usually red from the fires and heat. |
|---|
Background
Bremon is from a small farm among the plains of the North Downs, being the adopted son of a elder farmer and his wife. They raised him the best they could, showing him many things he uses in his travels today.Often times the plows would break, or the horses would need new shoes, in which he would have to learn how to beat the metals straight, and forging the shoes. He lived a peaceful, quite life until the orcs came. They slaughtered and burned everything they could, as they were ascending onto the farm, Bremon stood and tried to hold his ground but to no avail. His adopted father and mother were caught in the house as it burned, unable to free them, and his rescue was only thanks to s strange rider from the north. He now wanders around in search of work to try and make a living, He can often be found in Archet or Combe.
| Friends | None as of yet |
|---|---|
| Relatives | None |
| Rivals/Enemies |
| Loves | Warmth, pale ale good food and to work metal and exploring |
|---|---|
| Hates | Goblins, orcs, loud noises, darkness, weak metal, bright lights |
| Motivation | To find his place amoung this world |
| Quotes | "Weak steel is the death of man, but strong properly forge steel is the savior of us all." |
