Talbot

made by LorraineChicken



Born where Shadow meets Water, young Talbot spent his entire youth fishing. Whether it was for recreation or to help feed his clan, he loved nothing more than to bask in the soft moonlight, dreamily gazing at the waves while waiting for a strike. It was a blissful experience and one he would miss terribly, but as a growing teenager, he couldn't help but become increasingly curious about the more exciting aspects of life. During a yearly visit to the Eberglow Hearth, at the cusp of adulthood, his curiosity finally got the best of him; he let himself be swayed by a charismatic recruiter and enrolled in a reputable mercenary company inbound for the Southern Icefield to assist the Fire Flight soldiers.

There, his innocence would be forgotten like spilled blood under freshly fallen snow.

---

The reality of how the simple act of putting his signature on a piece of paper could destroy so many lives would forever leave him nauseous whenever his thoughts would drift to the issue.

It would be a while before he would stop seeing his victim's faces, glassy-eyed and staring beyond him, whenever he closed his eyes. It would be even longer before guilt stopped eating at him for being so talented at dealing death. Perhaps it would've been easier if it didn't remind him of fishing; He would chose his ambush location just like he would chose a good fishing spot and prepare his bait and tackle depending on the intended target. He would spend hours under the soft moonlight, watching a branch sway in the breeze until his target would move within range. There would be a struggle and, eventually, he would return with either a trophy or a story about how feisty his catch was.

Sometimes, pithing or gutting would be involved.

It was a constant source of amusement for his comrades-in-arms and, for his entire stay in the mercenary company, he was known under the moniker of "the Fisherman". A ridiculous name to be sure, but the reputation that came with it was anything but.

He would never admit how long it took him to realise that escape was an option; It would be too painful to be forthcoming about the number of lives lost while he wallowed in self-pity. To his credit, when the idea finally struck him, it took him less than three hours to escape, melting in the shadow's welcoming embrace. His company would look for him to no avail and would eventually declare him taken by the enemy.

In a sense, they were right.

---

Getting back to the Tangled Wood had been easy. He was welcomed with open arms and given the help he needed to recover from his nightmares. He retrieved his old fishing rod and his tackle and, with time, he would stop being the Fisherman everytime he used it. He could never quite get used to pithing and gutting again but he wouldn't miss that anyways.