Name: Robert Ackerson
Appearance: Standing at 6 ft 1, quite tall compared to those around him, Robert sticks out like a sore thumb within the ground. His hair has a salt and pepper color, a mixture of over drinking and stress in the earlier year of life. As expected from someone who is used to manual labor, Robert possessed a copper-toned skin and a muscular build. He usually appeared in a worker uniform, characterized by the fishy smell of the port and dotted by large areas of sweat.
- Dirty Fight: Being a lower-class citizen, there are no definitive weapons for one to fend of from others. As such, one needs to learn how to fight dirty. Ambush in the alleyway, kick in the groin, or just simply smashing an empty bottle against another skull. There is no limit on how dirty ones can fight, only how low will ones allow himself to stoop.
- Farming: Being a farmer himself, what kind of skills do you expect for him to have?
- Exceptional Endurance: Toiling his life every 14 hours per day on the field, all year round, Robert possessed the endurance that allows him to win villages fairs.
- Survivalist: When the blight comes and crops wither, people from lower class would have no choice but to eat wild berries and any animals that they can lay hands upon.
Rowdy and uncultured, Robert is your typical lower class citizen. His words are coarse, and his speech is a very good indication of what currently happening in his mind. And although his appearance usually gave out the impression of “my word worth thousand golds”, there is no stopping when he begins to talk. Combine that with the fact of himself being a heavy drinker and you got a living, breathing, and walking flea market.
But beneath his boastful nature, Robert has a heart of gold and a desire to befriend with anyone he meet. He would never hesitate to push himself down in order for others to claim the glory, simply because he deemed others to be more worthy than him. And friends are where his achievements come from. Maybe he is stupid for letting others use him. Maybe his mother did drop him when breastfeeding him. But if no one plays the fool, who will?
Like any other kids that were brown in the lower social ladder, Robert was born in a crowded family consisted of nine members. And from the age of four, he had learned how to properly plant wheat, how to plow the field without damaging the blades, where to find the grass for the sheep,... Life was simple back then, and Robert like it. His family had even asked the neighbor about letting him marrying their daughter. What could he ask more in life? What he possibly need had been provided by the farm life. Thus, Robert never thinks of ever moving out of town. Slowly living and then turn to dust on this plot of land was his thought.
But, his wife didn’t think the same. To her, the city held what she desired. Power, social connections, and fashions are all there, beckoning her to just come and settle in it. She craved it; Robert could see it in her eyes. The thirst of being known, of wearing the newest dress, and joining afternoon tea party at the neighbors’ houses. And so he saves the meager amount of money he is able to earn, saving for her dream.
But then, the blight came and wiped all he knew away. There were so many corpses, his wife included. Fields withered and their odor attracted clouds of flies to enjoy the feast. Starvation struck the region, adding more scratches on the number lists. It was the first time Robert knew that the ground beneath him taste so good. But like every sane and devastated man would do, Robert joined the exodus, heading to nearby cities.
That was 10 years or so. Now, Robert is just the same man who left that town behind, at least he likes to think so. He is still the man who saves the meager amount of money he is able to earn, just not for the same goal. Currently, the goal had turned out to be something more realistic, something more obtainable, booze. And with booze, Robert can do so many things. He could drink it. He could smash it against some stupid rats who think they could steal some coins from him. And the sadness found a vent to go. And the more money acquires, the more booze he is going to buy.