Physical Description: The man before you stands at an imposing height indeed with a rugged build honed through years of hardships. His short dark hair, streaked with gray, is often kept short revealing a face rugged and weathered from years under the sun and salt. Deep-set blue eyes, shadowed by heavy brows would cast their gaze to and fro. When he smiles, which is rare and often more of a smirk. it softens his features. His posture stands confident but not overly rigid. There’s an ease in his body language that suggests he’s comfortable.
Background: Ship to ship, place to place. The man never lingered anywhere for long. Born in a quiet coastal village, Bertrand grew up amidst the bustling docks and the tales of sailors who spoke of distant lands. Songs of yore and legends of which he would become enraptured and would go on to continue telling to this day. With dreams of adventure, he found himself drawn to the sea from a young age, captivated by the freedom it promised. At fifteen, he stowed away on a merchant ship, eager to escape the mundane life he currently lived. The crew soon discovered him, but instead of throwing him overboard, they allowed him to remain aslong as he worked to earn his keep. Navigating treacherous waters, managing the sails and scrubbing the deck. That was his life for the next four years.
Yet, as he sailed from port to port. He found that the adventure he once dreamed upon never fully came to life. While he saw islands, towns and coasts. The ship never braved the unknown, always sticking to standard trading lanes. Risk, wasn't acceptable for the captain nor crew. The boy, now a young man made a decision. A fond farewell being given to those he had travelled with and thus, he did depart. He wandered from town to town, barely scraping by. Still seeking that dream. He soon joined a band of mercenaries, believing they would offer him the camaraderie and purpose he sought. Going under as an apprentice craftsman In their ranks. The rhythmic clanging of metal against metal echoing from the forge as it kept him company for a time, before he witnessed the brutality of battle firsthand. Innocent lives were caught in the crossfire, and the horrors of battle haunted his dreams. Despite his ideals and dreams, he felt increasingly lost in a world stained by bloodshed. "Was it all just a misguided dream?" A question which stuck with him in the following years to come.
During his time in service, he learned how to fight. A scavenger would be apt, going over battlefields in an attempt to collect any stray scrapes of metal or equipment as ordered. Avoiding any of the more heated skirmishes. Using subtlety to avoid attention in volatile areas."What was important in life? It cannot be this." Dreams made way for reality to his deep regret and he grew ever more somber. Disillusioned and betrayed by false promises. He packed his bags and departed once more for the open-road.
Now, years past as Bertrand stepped off the weathered ship onto the sun-kissed shores, a wave of mixed emotions washed over him. The salty breeze carried the scent of commerce, and the distant calls of merchants and seagulls echoed through the air. This land, vibrant and bustling with life, was a stark contrast to the memories he carried. Yet, despite the mundanity of daily life here, a part of him still clung to the dreams of his youth. The thoughts raced through his mind like waves crashing against the shore: "Could he still be that man?"
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