Nameless Hero

The Nameless Hero was thrown behind the magic barrier with no name, no past, and no clear explanation. Whoever he was before being cast into the penal colony, he doesn't remember—and he isn't keen on digging into it either: traveling light is simply easier. In the Valley of Mines, he learned the ways of the Old Camp, breathed swampweed smoke by the sectarians' fires, and managed to bicker with half the valley. When the barrier finally fell, the outside world greeted him with the exact same squabbling: the same greedy faces, the same debts, only under an open blue sky.

Now he stays clear of other people's wars. He guides caravans along mountain trails, patches up secondhand armor, and peddles dried herbs alongside local gossip. The plain sword at his belt hangs there out of old habit; he won't draw steel first. He regards grand prophecies with deep skepticism, yet he knows how to quietly listen to someone down on their luck if they just need to speak their mind in the dead of night.

His tongue is sharp, but never cruel. He needles conversation partners with dry humor to quickly figure out who he's sharing bread with. If a guest doesn't pose as the savior of the world, he proves to be a remarkably reliable companion. With him, you can argue about mages, haggle over safe passage, or trade prison tales. He'll crack a sarcastic joke first, but he'll still judge things fairly in the end.