Bloodcookie
Explorer
Caradoc - Charming, Wanderlust-y Disgruntled Shopkeep, and Wanna-be Bard
The son of a prominent and (relatively) wealthy general-store owner, 22-year old Caradoc has lived a somewhat more privileged life than many of his peers in Poins. His father, knowing that he would be able to finance Caradoc’s higher education, ardently encouraged him in his studies, which Caradoc diligently pursued, although this increased the alienation he was beginning to feel toward his friends, who, he realized, did not have the same future in store that he did.
That future lay in the classrooms, taprooms, and bedrooms of Syra, in all of which Caradoc would come to excel. He became something of a fixture, and a powerful presence, in the cafes and informal salons frequented by students. His well-trained intellect, and the natural charm and grace that had helped him back home to coast through what might have otherwise been awkward social situations engendered by class disparity, now served him well in dealing with those born to significantly higher station than his own, as well as mediating between the multiplicity of races, philosophies, and tax brackets whose company he shared.
Alas, as much as he tried to push the thought from his mind, Caradoc knew he would eventually have to return home; his father had always expected him to carry on the family business, and Caradoc hadn’t thought of a way out of complying (yet). So, at the end of his fifth year abroad, Caradoc returned to Poins, better prepared for a career as an historian, diplomat, or barroom philosopher than a shopkeeper. Still, with his longing for places elsewhere and uncomfortable awareness of the provincial mindset of those around him concealed by an always affable demeanor, he bides his time amongst the inventory and at the accounting ledger, taking advantage of every opportunity for a “business trip.”
Until one day…<insert deus ex machina here
>
The son of a prominent and (relatively) wealthy general-store owner, 22-year old Caradoc has lived a somewhat more privileged life than many of his peers in Poins. His father, knowing that he would be able to finance Caradoc’s higher education, ardently encouraged him in his studies, which Caradoc diligently pursued, although this increased the alienation he was beginning to feel toward his friends, who, he realized, did not have the same future in store that he did.
That future lay in the classrooms, taprooms, and bedrooms of Syra, in all of which Caradoc would come to excel. He became something of a fixture, and a powerful presence, in the cafes and informal salons frequented by students. His well-trained intellect, and the natural charm and grace that had helped him back home to coast through what might have otherwise been awkward social situations engendered by class disparity, now served him well in dealing with those born to significantly higher station than his own, as well as mediating between the multiplicity of races, philosophies, and tax brackets whose company he shared.
Alas, as much as he tried to push the thought from his mind, Caradoc knew he would eventually have to return home; his father had always expected him to carry on the family business, and Caradoc hadn’t thought of a way out of complying (yet). So, at the end of his fifth year abroad, Caradoc returned to Poins, better prepared for a career as an historian, diplomat, or barroom philosopher than a shopkeeper. Still, with his longing for places elsewhere and uncomfortable awareness of the provincial mindset of those around him concealed by an always affable demeanor, he bides his time amongst the inventory and at the accounting ledger, taking advantage of every opportunity for a “business trip.”
Until one day…<insert deus ex machina here
>
