Chester of Aelford
Chester is a burly teddy bear of a man. He's big, but more squishy than physically intimidating. Behind his unassuming exterior, however, lurks a mind like a steel trap. He always had a quiet, somewhat reserved demeanor. He was raised in a village that was an unusual blend of elves and humans living together. His large size and soft spoken nature left him somewhat isolated from the other children, and he could often be found lurking at the edges of society, observing rather than participating.
He did have one fast friend however, one of the half-breeds that were still rare despite the blended community. Demmon's mixed blood left him out from the regular childhood groups as well, but he and Chester got along well enough. It was Demmon's father, the elven half of his parentage, that first truly noticed Chester's mind. The boy didn't say much, but when he spoke it was always with uncanny intelligence behind his words.
And so Demmon's father convinced the young Chester to take up the study of magic. Demmon himself was more concerned with the way of the sword, and so Chester split himself between sparring with Demmon and studying under Demmon's father. The paired styles worked well for him, and eventually he moved on to study under elves that had mastered both steel and magecraft. Chester's mind grew apace with his magical studies, and the constant physical training softened his girth some, but he would never share the build of his elven tutors.
Eventually the two friends grew to manhood, and Demmon got it into his head to join the military. Chester, stayed behind, devoted to his studies and training, always believing there was more to learn. And so the two parted, but remained friend and wrote each other constantly. Until a few years later, when the letters from Demmon suddenly ceased without explanation. Unable to receive any response to the fate of his friend, Chester instead decided to follow in his footsteps. . . and then a mission . . . and some blue gas . . . and now Chester awakes in a field, lost, his thoughts scattered . . . and in his hand, a letter from someone named Demmon?