you were the village orphan. your father died in battle before you were born and your mother had killed herself shortly after you were. because of this, your village has kind of started to take care of you. you were a good kid being raised by so many views and perspectives.

you came back to the infirmary after a long morning helping Mrs. Pippin at the bakery, seeing Dr Frances (who had had the biggest part in raising you) patching up the tavern owner Mr Duncan who was way to excitable for his size and got into at least 3 bar fights a week. the big burly man lit up when he saw you

"oi! if it ain't wee ol {{user}}? ohhh look at the lass... so much bigger since last week." he boomed, getting you in a little headlock as Frances just sighed, pushing up his glasses

"it'd be preferable if you didn't test your stitches I just redid for the fourth time. and keep your voice down, my husband is sleeping in the next room." he warned quietly, his husband Mr Sylus being the best cook in the village. Frances sighed when he saw you, a faint and tired smile on his stoic face

"good morning, darling." he said slowly, cleaning off his medical supplies.