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Robert Ayr Glenfeidh
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Height: 6'1"
Profession: Distiller
Birthday: 14 of Fall, 495 AV
Current Location: Syka
Housing: The Protea Inn, Room 6
Birthplace: Lhavit
Fluent Language: Common
Basic Language: Fratava
Poor Language: None
Appearance:
Robert has soft, awkwardly trimmed black hair, a (poor?) decision he made before travelling to Syka. Hearing that it would be a great deal warmer and humid, he thought it was a good idea to have his hair trimmed down. Unfortunately, he chose the wrong barber for this job. His eyes are storm-grey, and while he does not deliberately train his physique, his life of working in the fields and in the sometimes-harsh conditions of the distillery have left him with a lean body with more mass than you'd expect him to have. His hands are calloused, and retain a strong grip from years of lifting barrels and stirring mash for hours on end.
If it is cool enough, Robert tends to wear a simple linen shirt, but most of the time he goes topless in the harsh tropical climate of Syka. All his old clothing have been stained by whiskey and assorted liquors/fermenting liquids, and if one were to be close enough, they would be able to detect not unpleasant odours.
Character History:
Born to a family of distillers, Robert has lived his entire life so far in Lhavit, in a small house adjacent to the family distillery, which was set up by his grandfather. From birth, Robert has drank spring water used to make his family's finest whiskies, and water stored in barrels once used for ageing - all this has nurtured his palate well enough that, with his experience in vinting, has given him an instinctive knowledge of any and all notes present in whiskies.
Since he was old enough to work, Robert helped his family in their small distillery, and the small plot of land they owned in Lhavit's Sharai fields, where they grew mainly barley and other crops, resting only when there was no other work to do, or when one of Lhavit's festivals occurred. In his down-time, Robert has dabbled in things here and there, leading to his somewhat-varied skillset.
The Glenfeidh distillery was a small, family-run distillery in Lhavit, kept in business by a well-knit group of regulars, small batches bought by inns, taverns, and market-goers, and the occasional Svefra trader that dropped by Port Tranquil if they were lucky. Unfortunately, in 518 AV, the distillery collapsed.
His mother had never been in the best of health, and Robert's father never really recovered from her untimely death a few years before the distillery's bankruptcy, opting to literally drink away their profits. Robert and his sister struggled to keep it afloat, with the aid of her husband, but in the end, their debts were too high and they had to sell off almost everything, leaving only their house, and the remaining casks of liquor.
The siblings worked to help their father recover, and after a few months, coupled with the sheer shock of the distillery's ruination, Robert's father eventually recovered, resolving to join his daughter's small business and make up for all the time and money he wasted. Having ensured that his family was relatively safe and happy for the foreseeable future, Robert wallowed in uncertainty before an unforeseen encounter at the docks.
A particularly carefree member of a Svefra Pod, who had been occasional customers of their distillery since his grandfather's time, mentioned to him that Syka was in need of a brewer, while having a drink together at the Star's Shadow to commiserate over their recent fortune with love. The very next day, Robert appeared at the Lia's main cabin in his very best clothes. He carried with him a small cask of his family beverage, meat pasties from the Jugged Hare, colourful sweets for the Pod's children, and a few bottles of the very best snow apple cider from the Peaks to wet their throats while he alternatively begged and negotiated with the Lia for passage to Syka in exchange for most of his family's remaining stock and generally performing the role of dogsbody on the Svefra Pod's ships.
Seven days later, promising to write to his sister when he could, hefting a large backpack, the heir to the Glenfeidh distillery set foot on the deck of a Palivar, and was promptly set upon by every Svefra child in the Pod.
Character Concept:
A streak of melancholy runs in Robert's family, and he is no exception - there are times when he simply wants to enjoy a good drink, watching the clouds and stars above with Anastasia by his side, wondering what lay above them. He prefers to remain quiet and watch the world around him, but can patter with the best if need be.
Robert tends to be serious about his work and doesn't quite allow himself to relax, unless trying to develop a rapport with his fellow workers or employees. This is expressed in his strict work ethic and the high standards of quality he demands from himself and others when working in the distillery - failed batches in the past have cost his family's small distillery much, and he does not wish to see it happen.
In leisure, though, Robert can drink as well as any other man (and perhaps a little more), and his palate for whiskey flavours has taken him places he wouldn't normally be able to set a foot in - he has been invited to some private parties through his more connected acquaintances, where he provided the guests with an idea of the liquors provided by the host, coupled with a few amusing tales of his life in the distillery. It does take some time for Robert to open up to anyone he meets, but he tries to treat them kindly and with understanding, in true Lhavit fashion. He is a glass of whiskey within, warm as liquid gold, and a spirit that nurtures the fire of camaraderie - or at least tries to.
In his distilling and brewing one may catch a glimpse of his love of creation, expressed through liquor. He is no stranger to innovation, having experimented in his own spare time with different blends, grains, fruit and herbs in countless failed attempts to enhance, or even create new flavours. If given a glimpse into a new field, Robert will feel an urge to delve deeper into it out of curiosity. However, he binds himself by duty, and will only do so when his current duties allow him to.
Robert tends to be respectful of authority - a mark of his strict upbringing, and if wearing his faded blue bonnet or any hat in particular, doffs it to any figure of authority he meets. When praised by such a person for an achievement he feels proud of, he feels rather bashful.
Companions:
Birthday: 517 AV [?]
Race: Cat
Profession: Definitely not part-time Queen of the world
Quote: Miaow
Skill: Purring her way into your heart
Anastasia is the light of Robert's life, and he hers, except when he doesn't let her have her way. One of a litter of kittens born to granary cats in Lhavit, Robert found her chewing on strands of barley. Since then, Anastasia has been a constant fixture in his life, riding on his shoulders whenever possible, and riding in his backpack otherwise.
Anastasia tends to be rather curious about anything new, but prefers not to be touched by strangers until she's had a good amount of time to get used to her. Hard-boiled eggs and grilled fish are her favourite treats, but Robert makes sure that she doesn't eat too much and get sick.
Skills:
| Skill | EXP | Total | Proficiency |
| Vinting | 15 RB, 15 SP | 30 | Competent |
| Carpentry | 10 SP | 10 | Novice |
| Herbalism | 10 SP | 10 | Novice |
| Philtering | 10 SP | 10 | Novice |
| Weapon: Axe (Non-battle) | 5 SP | 5 | Novice |
Notes: :
Lores:
| Name | Source |
| Lore of Priskil: the Lady of Hope | Starting lore |
| Distilling: Set-up and Maintenance of a Still | Starting lore |
Religion:
Priskil
In his darkest days, when his mother died and the distillery failed, Robert struggled to find reason to continue surviving - it had been his entire life. But though he fought to even sit up in bed every morn, his will still carried him through the torturous day, as it had through the endless hours of toil and sweat - but more out of desperation than anything else. A chance encounter on one of the many paths on the Sharai peak brought him back from the brink.
As he returned home from a long day of weeding his family's small plot and the communal fields, his feet brought him off the well-trodden paths and onto a nearly-faded desire path. Noting that he had strayed off his usual route, he started to turn back before noticing an elderly woman, bent over with age, whispering to herself - or was it to the small stone stelae in front of her, overgrown with moss and the verdigris of time?
Robert does not remember now the exact words she spoke to him when he spilled out his life's troubles to this wise old babushka, but he recalls a stirring of hope in his breast and a metaphorical ray of light that cleared his mind and soothed his humours. It was to a small shrine of Priskil that she had been whispering to, as she had been all her life.
Ever since, Robert has never failed to offer a small prayer to Priskil in the evening in thanks for the day gone by, and always has a few mizas ready to donate to any place devoted to Priskil that he passes by. One day, he hopes to be able to make a pilgrimage to one of the Watchtowers in person.
As he returned home from a long day of weeding his family's small plot and the communal fields, his feet brought him off the well-trodden paths and onto a nearly-faded desire path. Noting that he had strayed off his usual route, he started to turn back before noticing an elderly woman, bent over with age, whispering to herself - or was it to the small stone stelae in front of her, overgrown with moss and the verdigris of time?
Robert does not remember now the exact words she spoke to him when he spilled out his life's troubles to this wise old babushka, but he recalls a stirring of hope in his breast and a metaphorical ray of light that cleared his mind and soothed his humours. It was to a small shrine of Priskil that she had been whispering to, as she had been all her life.
Ever since, Robert has never failed to offer a small prayer to Priskil in the evening in thanks for the day gone by, and always has a few mizas ready to donate to any place devoted to Priskil that he passes by. One day, he hopes to be able to make a pilgrimage to one of the Watchtowers in person.
Belongings:
Starting package: :
Clothing/Accessories:
5 cotton handkerchiefs
Weapon: (non-battle) Axe (Broad edge ~ 4.5 in, total weight: 4 lbs) + sheath
- A general-purpose axe with a steel head and worn wooden handle, at just the right length to be used one- or two-handed. Usually used for felling small trees, but heavy enough to split wood with Robert's strength.
Miscellaneous:
12 50-litre seasoned casks (2 casks full of remaining family whiskey)
High-quality great chest
1 lb of distiller's yeast
1 lb of wine yeast
2 8 oz clear old-fashioned glasses
Mortar and Pestle
Rope, Hemp (50 ft.)
Steel knife + sheath
Heirloom:
A pewter flask, dulled with age, usually filled with the last of the family drink. This drinking flask has been passed down the Glenfeidh line for several generations.
Ledger:
| Purchase | Cost | Total |
| Starting | + 100 GM | 100 GM |
| Cashed in Housing | + 500 GM | 600 GM |
| Cat | - 2 SM | 599 GM 8 SM |
| Steel Axe + sheath | - 1 GM | 598 GM 8 SM |
| 12 50-litre seasoned casks | - 24 GM | 576 GM 8 SM |
| Whiskey (2 casks full) | - 106 GM | 470 GM 8 SM |
| 2 8 oz clear drinking glasses | - 3 GM 6 SM | 467 GM 2 SM |
| 5 cotton handkerchiefs | - 4 SM | 466 GM 8 SM |
| 2 lbs (total) of dried distiller's yeast and wine yeast | - 4 SM | 466 GM 4 SM |
| Great chest | - 6 GM | 460 GM 4 SM |
| Mortar and Pestle | - 1 GM | 459 GM 4 SM |
| Rope, Hemp (50 ft.) | - 1 GM | 458 GM 4 SM |
| Steel knife + sheath | - 1 GM | 457 GM 4 SM |
| Jungle boots | - 3 SM | 457 GM 1 SM |
| Summer 520 AV Lodging (Protea Inn) | - 120 GM | 337 GM 1 SM |
Notes: :