Aging Medic and Monster Hunter
Sten is tall with a lean frame, someone that can be a bit easy to miss in a crowd unless he makes an effort to make himself stand out. Spear and bow strapped on opposing sides of his pack is a familiar weight on his back. Body is scarred and callous from use and travel with a bit of soreness starting to set into his joints, slowing his movements down. Voice is slow and deep, and his greying black hair is usually nestled underneath an old wide brimmed hat, matching with the duster with a few metal plates laid into it’s leather. Face bears a long scar across it’s left side that has grown more pronounced with the sag of skin given with age. Eyes are a hard and cold blue that betray the strength and sharpness within the ageing body.
Sten generally carries himself in a reserved manner; keeping quiet and calm in most situations. When he chooses to act or speak it is typically done directly and quickly, sometimes even edging into harshly. Sten has a reputation for being hard; challenging others to perform their best or to step out of the way. Despite his cold demeanour he desires community and family; he can be loud, boastful and happy in times of peace with close friends. He carries some regrets over his actions in youth that motivate him into doing good in the world and makes him a bit more forgiving to the transgressions of others. He has accepted his own mortality.
“Well, there goes ol’Sten again. Eh traveller? Nah, you don’t need to pay ol’Sten no mind, ‘less you’re lookin’ to stir up some trouble. His story? Don’t rightly know it myself. Gossip is that he wasn’t a good ol’boy. You know how those youngin’s from those cities are. Don’t know the value of life and all too eager to play at being bandits or heroes. Figure he’s one of those lads who joined up into the service with a bunch of friends and learned t’rebel real quick. Nah, it’s the right of youth to think the only folk worth dying for ‘s themselves.
Yeah, cowardly deserter, but ain’t be a right man wanting to say that to his face. Must’ve been decades ago anyway. So, bunch of boys with skills to kill and some gear. Figure they did what comes natural with that. I’ve only seen Old Sten draw that bow once on another person, but that look in his eyes? Ain’t a doubt of it, he’s haunted, killed more than a few. Rumours end there, figure anyone still alive to remember his bad old days’d rather keep quiet on it.
Well, then story goes as it does. Met a pretty young thing to wed. Settle down with. Sten’s skilled enough with mending that he’s as good as any doc ‘round these parts. Never had no children, but they were always kind to the other families in the town. Could tell that tore at them a bit, yknow?
Well, time passes. Faster than you’d think. Doc’s wife gets sick and there ain’t a thing he can do aside from make her comfortable. After that, well, no man’d be the same.
Couple years later there was this beast of a wolf edging close to the town. Hunters and travellers getting wounded or ate. So, one morning the Doc’s seen strolling out of town with that nasty looking bow o’his. Come nightfall he comes back, dragging the wolf’s body along behind him.
Figure that’s when he decided he was tired of mending wounds and instead set out to prevent them. So he wanders between towns on his patrol, dealing with the monsters and beasts that get too close to town, healing the sick and wounded when he finds ‘em, and teaching other folk how to fight.
Family? A man like that ain’t got no family. A man like that is just trying to put himself square with the world. A man like that is just waitin’ for death to come, and making himself as useful as possible until then. Strange to think, that one day he’ll go walking on by and not come back.”