HEIGHT - 5’7

BUILD - Mildly athletic

HAIR - Black

EYES - Hazel

MARKINGS - A large entertwining raised scar that trails up his right forearm almost to the elbow facing his body. It seems to be a trail of unique burns that will in some circumstances glow blue when he flexes the muscle it’s up against.

OTHER - Answer

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If one were to ask anyone on the street they’d report him to be an elusive creature both in form and spirit. He never lingers in one place too long and always seems to know precisely where his next customer is going to be and what they’ll have him find for them. When in the city he doesn’t interact with any of the working class people or the peasants. “Well, he ain’t about to get any coin out of ‘em is why. Stuff he sells is way over a hundred coins a piece. It’s real magic y’know?”

However on deeper inspection and should anyone have the interesting opportunity of traveling with him be it by shared wagon or simply tagging along on the same stretch of road for a little while they’d see a tranquil look in his historically sharp gaze as he took in sights he’d already seen time and time again with each journey into the unknown. He loves exploring and being out where humans scarcely traveled it put peace to his mind.


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▷Lazing about in nature
▷Enjoying well-made liqueurs
▷Money

▷Water
▷Strenuous sword fighting
▷City folk and sad peasants

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▷Excellent Survivalist
▷Ace archer
▷Spectacular Swindler

▷He swims as if he wears lead boots
▷He is a bargainer, not a soldier and thus a coward in a real fight. He was also never trained for battle with swords. Only how to (barely) survive an encounter with a thief or a raider.
▷He holds no sympathy for whatever doesn’t provide him gain








Rowin did not suffer a tragedy as a child. In fact he was very much lucky to grow up on a reasonably successful farm in a village that had the fortune of trading directly with the nearest city. It offered them the privilege of being safe both financially and by way of having a reasonable reach for resources as many salesmen came by with woods metals and tools of all kinds of trades to trade with. Rowin had plenty of siblings as well and was free, when he became of age to find a trade that suited him without being concerned with being tied to the farm.

Rowin decided early on he wanted to follow the trade of a huntsman. He learned to hunt and use the bow and after a few years…well…he discovered his TRUE interest lay in craft making. He apprenticed at 17 with the local craftsmen who specialized in leather and wood making furniture, saddles and the like. It wasn’t until a salesman came by and tried to sell his master a spell caster that would help his skins dry twice as fast on the tanner. Magic. Rowin had been told as a child that magic was mostly myth expanded to the level of awe by drunken story tellers over the ages. He was told at one point humans used it a bit more but with one reason or another it had gotten lost after a war with dragons. The story itself had been warped with time, Rowin didn’t doubt that. He’d expected the whole magic bit was a metaphor for something but upon seeing it face to face…a whole new world opened up to him.

He left on his first journey at 18. It’s unclear what had happened but he returned to the main city with a vibrant wound on his arm and a shattered amulet. “It is real, see? The power of it! A mere fragment and you can do anything!”

It was without a doubt the effects of the magic had altered his mind for a time and after a while his ravings calmed. It’s said even so several men went to his bedside with an offer for the mere fragments he still had on him and each had bags of coins as heavy as infants.

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