Hear ye! The name's Wilbur, for I was meant to be like a wild boar - hardy, yet sensitive to my surroundings. My training in the wilds had prepared me well for the dangers lurking within, and as such, I am also known as the Scout - a darn fine one, dare I say!
People around there regard me as a Half-Orc, which might be because they are so bloody dense! Truth is, there is less than a half orc within me, as it was only my father who was a proper Half-Orc. He had eloped with a human woman, eventually resulting in my birth.
I stand six feet and a few, perhaps three inches tall with a lean body, sculpted by my rigorous training. My head is shaven bald, and my rough face is adorned with a pair of large, protruding, hazel eyes, alert to just about any trick you may be thinking of pulling on me. As you could likely tell by my olive skin, I spend much time in the sun.
I see myself as one who follows the rangerfolk. I seek to make myself known as a mercenary, one who would either lead a troop of footmen across unforgiving terrain features and weather conditions, or assist in hunting the most unique creatures of prey. Whatever pays well. I do not seek to make lasting alliances - if anything, I view these as mere stepping stones on my ascent to greatness.
With each endeavour I make, I seek to amass greater and greater wealth and fame, as the baddest Scout in the whole realm. Hear ye yet again, for I now start this path towards adventure!
"Experience is that, which you get after you need it."
When Wilbur looked for his first job, the bartender advised him to see a few trappers sat by the nearby table. One of them was Jester, who offered to mentor him throughout. Although it is usually awkward for a boy in Wilbur's age to engage in a conversation with more mature men, Jester helped Wilbur feel more comfortable, answering to his fellow trappers' snide remarks with his own cracks.
Jester not only worked with the trappers, but he would often go poaching to earn some money on the side. Since Wilbur's arrival, the jolly trapper would take Wilbur on his poaching endeavours. Although they were not quite free of dangerous or otherwise uncomfortable events, Jester, true to his nickname, would help relieve the young boy of his burdens. As a matter of fact, the boy often found himself feeling even better than before embarking into such perilous travels. The jolly trapper eventually revealed that he was particularly fond of Wilbur, for the boy's enthusiasm reminded him of himself in his early years.
Although Wilbur has a positive impression of Jester, he can still see himself abandoning his mentor, if he could see enough of a benefit in it.
Reflections On Your Mother
I may not have been too fond of my mother, but even then I would never wish upon her whatever misfortune led to her demise. Back when I was a wee tyke, father suffered a fatal incident at work and so I remained solely under mother's care. Perhaps worried that I would suffer the same fate as my old man, mother kept me from doing much of the interesting things kids my age were doing.
It was not long after when I became out of touch with my peers, and when I would become the 'weird kid' of my home village. There was not a single week free from their painful teasing. I am certain that had it not been for father's passing, I would have been a different man. As of now however, I have to work with what I have.