Here's my character - Torian Tormen
The life of a farm boy is one of restriction and dead ends, every day the same, every night a day wasted. Well, that's what Torian and his ten year old brain had concluded at the time. There you could only hear tales of what it was like beyond the fences and cattle, beyond the large stretch of cut grass and shit piles. Where there existed lands of ice, oceans of sand and skies of raining fire. At ten years old, Torian had decided to escape his life of eternal confinement and enter the open world, to bask in freedom and the absurd. But a young boy yearned for whimsy and wonder, he only met cutthroats, slavers and regret. Two more years were spent in the hazardous conditions of a wasteland of resources, a hell with little food and little mercy. Soon it became less of a prison and more of a graveyard. Again, Torian had to endure a confined life of servitude, and again e would seek escape.
Unlike last time, escape was dripping with blood and dust, withering with flaws and scars Torian would never let go of. Once he was free again, he used his previous two years as a leash to keep him cautioned; briefly he had considered to look back towards home, but after two years he felt to ashamed of his trail to follow it back and continued forward. For the next twelve years the world decided to educate him. His privilege was the dirt. He owed life an eternal debt, one he would pay with his own blood and sweat. He did what he needed to do, and wanted what he needed.
He needed to hunt, so he took up a bow and learned. He needed to eat, so he picked up a cook book and learned. He needed to travel, so he stole himself a horse. He needed money, so he got down in the mud. He needed comfort, so he indulged his sarcasm. He needed to get some good boy points, so he headed to Rorst. This was freedom.
