Robert Faldon - White - Human - Fighter (blindfighting style) - Male - Straight

Average Joe who happens to be able to see through blindness and darkness in close range, sometimes even through invisibility. Not very impressive or accomplished, but with a very healthy appreciation for women. He takes a quest for hotties, saves hotties, gets foiled by hotties, etc.

Robert Faldon, a pale skinned human, standing at 5'7. A head of short dark brown hair, unkempt even if he tries his best to tame it. Brown eyes, with no age or wisdom or zest of life to be intrinsically found within. His physique was fit, lightly toned, with visible but not very impressive muscles. His dick, while usually four inches long, could grow to a decent seven inches-not that anyone had bore witness to it.

An average name, an average build, an average man. Robert fancied himself an adventurer, but truthfully he wasn’t much of one. Nearly no quests endured, hardly any battles fought, no stories worth telling. He was directionless. He clung to his adventurer ‘career’ in hopes of garnering some company, but also because he couldn’t see himself doing anything else. Little did the poor sod know, his whole life was about to change.

It was late evening, the confines of The Tipsy Maiden bustling with activity as novices, veterans, and laborers alike all drank, sang, danced, and fought.

Robert himself was decently inebriated and drifting from table to table, when he found himself in conversation with a group of adventurers.

“You ask me, only reason to take up quests is to go after The Darkness eventually. Otherwise, just stay home and ignore reality.” A large man belched.

“Then why haven’t you gone off already, eh Torvin?” Another man joked before taking another swig. They laughed in jest.

“Maybe I’m just waiting for the right shag to inspire me, hm?” Torvin retorted, puckering his lips at a couple of the women. More laughs.

“Or maybe you know deep down that you’ll only get shagged if you manage to defeat The Darkness, but you're too much of a bitch for that, so you stay here and hope to be proven wrong. No such luck yet.” One of such women suggested sarcastically. Torvin raised in hands in friendly surrender as more laughs rang out.

“That’s a good point, though.” Another woman spoke up.

“What?” Someone prompted.

“Whoever manages it is gonna be the most shaggable being in all the lands. I’d certainly fuck someone like that. Hell, I’d marry ‘em.” She said with a shrug.

Robert perked up. He’d never had much luck with women. Could the secret to finding love really be destroying The Darkness?

“At the very least, I’d only be interested in a guy who was at least attempting it.” Another said, to much agreement.

Of course! It was so obvious now! A perfect plan! Even just an attempt would garner him some womanly attention.

“In all seriousness, who do you think could do it? Reckon anyone here?” A lanky man questioned the group at large.

“Chadwyn might. He’s been building up his loot pretty well, hasn’t he?”

“Or Prevlick. Lad’s pretty damn deft if you ask me. Don’t think I’ve seen him get hit once.”

“She’s already gone, but I bet Ronnila can do it.”

“Bah! Bockle's our savior, I’m sure of it!”

“Oh please, I’ll get it done easy as pie. In fact, I’m heading out tomorrow as it is.” That was a bold proclamation. Who said that? All the eyes were on him, but it still took Robert a good second to realize he’d spoken without thinking. He swallowed thickly under the attention.

“Well shit, why not?”

“Aye, even a drunken twit could do it!” The attention was drowned out by laughter, fortunately.

Even as the drinks went on, Robert could truly only surmise he had said such a foolish thing (and not taken it back) because of the idea of having beautiful women throw themselves at him. For some reason, the word of his imminent departure was spread around the tavern quickly, and everyone was cheering him on in jest, but nonetheless expectant of his claim-at least, the departure bit.

Robert Faldon did his best to lose himself in the drinks and cheering, and pretend like his sole motivation wasn’t to garner womanly affection. He partied until he dropped that night.