I am Bruj, and I've learned that the only thing you can trust in life is one's instincts and your own two hands (Or however many you have, I don't judge). I am called Brawler as such, as a loss of a blade is far from a loss of ability, and more often an unpleasant surprise for my opponent.
Of middle stature, my height rarely gives anyone pause, though the more perceptive may spot the muscle mass clothes hide and think wiser of confrontation. Tanned from travel, I still maintain a clean appearance when possible, keeping my chestnut hair in a long braid down the back, the sides shaven, and beard trimmed when possible.
I'm a fighter for hire, though not an assassin. From pit matches and light guard duty to adventuring, so long as there is coin to be had (And no undeserving blood to be shed), I'll take a job and see it to it's completion. There is no greater dishonor than a broken contract, as a man's word is his value.
I set out on this life path living each day like the last, and with a saying in mind ;
A laughing man draws his blade slowly,
A devout man falls best to his pride,
A concussed man casts magic weakly,
Though with Luck, Grit, and Instinct, the Great might survive.
A Sentimental Value
I take with me a ring. It looks decent and infers a status of something at least above basic peasantry. It has some value without being weighty too, so in a pinch I could pawn or sell it to get a quick coin influx, no matter how small.