Hemlock

Born and raised in the Land of Ice and Snow - Hemlock Winterbane was the seventh son of a seventh son - his father being Virun Winterbane, Marlfox warlord and his mother Mysterium the Seer. Under the name Septimus Winterbane - he was shy, and timid - he didn't fit in the mold his father made - he held no sword willingly and couldn't find the hate in his heart for neighbouring villages. His mother hoped to turn him into a wizard like herself, forcing him into a pact with her own diety, the Fiend. Yet, when he awoke - magic running through his veins, his patron was not his mothers - but the strange, eerie and lonesome Great Old One. Despite this hiccup, he grew adept with magic and herbalism - spinning a spell like his mother. So long as he remained in her good graces then the physical abuse from his parents and siblings subsided but he couldn't help but overhear their thoughts, their cold cruel whispers that he wasn't like them - weak, worm-like, too kind. He hid his kindness, his longing for love and affection tucked away as badly as he could but when his father succeeded in overthrowing a nearby squirrel village - He watched in horror as families went up in flame - well, he had enough and voiced his horrors. One by one his family turned on him, nearly ripping him apart and he fled, the notch in his ear still bleeding. He tried to find sanctuary in the nighbouring towns but they knew the name Winterbane and threw stones at him until he left.
With nowhere to turn without feeling the shame, the fear of his roots - he fled across the ocean - nearly drowning in a storm as his tired, little frame held onto a raft for dear life. He landed on the shores of the Sea of Mist. Too scared to dare talk to the nearby villages, he roamed the woods and ruins - collecting bones so the rogues of the land wouldn't bother him in his creepy visage - his only companion being his unspeaking Patron of Dark Magic. Renaming himself Hemlock under his master's suggestion, Hemlock would rummage in the ruins, trying to forget the world of luxury he knew had been molded out of blood and bone.

Friendly, naive and utterly trusting - Hemlock dreams of a life well loved, where he can be himself unabashedly. He wears the cloak of a strange, friendly hermit too well - scared to tell anyone about himself less the past and his actions find him again and he is face to face with a history of bloodlust and war.