Dad jokes. Ocean metaphors. Motivational speaker who says “fuck.” Does not do nearly enough to discourage Blight from stealing just so he can continue referring to him as a thiefling. Cannot get over how clever that is, no matter how many people tell him it's terrible. Would definitely have been a bard if he’d ever been an adventurer. Definitely cried the first time Blight called him “dad.” Needs less emotions, but honestly fuck you Barbara, you only live here because your brother was cool. High key a reincarnated conman. He convinced the townsfolk to take to Blight pretty much immediately just by existing near him. Which is literally the exact same way he convinced them Arya was a paragon of perfection, too, so I mean...if you have a problem with people accepting you, be friends with Obyron, I guess.

Raised by the seaside, Obyron never strayed far from the water. He was raised worshipping Poseidon and, as many of his faith often do, took to sailing when he came of age. While he never stood out much among his fellow sailors in his work, Obyron did have a tendency to pick up a lute and spin a tale or two. That, on top of his charismatic and cheerful nature, made him popular among his peers. It also earned him the attention of an old priest who offered Obyron the opportunity to join the temple as his protege.

Obyron was trained in one of the larger temples in the city of Varen. During his training, he met a young man named Bayard, who often came to pray and ask for advice. He was constantly struggling to make ends meet, having no apparent support from friends or family, while saving up to pay for experimental services from Varen’s University of Exploratory Medicine. Obyron often gave him work painting new murals on the temple walls--both to help him financially and to spend more time with him.

The more time he spent with Bayard, the more he began to pick up on his friend’s tendencies to avoid his reflection and cast mournful looks at the dresses on display in the market. He found crumpled pieces of cloth with small paintings of a woman with Bayard’s eyes and hair color enough times to eventually figure out that Bayard wasn’t a Bayard at all--she was an Arya.

With time, patience, and a lot of monetary help, Obyron eventually convinced Arya to start growing her hair out and wear dresses. They fell in love years before they’d saved up enough money to pay for the University’s services and by then Obyron was getting reassigned to restore a decrepit temple in the town of Tiffana. It was a fair way down the coast, but Arya agreed to follow him there.

The couple worked for years, breathing life back into the temple and, by proxy, the town itself. Obyron called on countless old shipmates to fill out the populace with their families and, with Arya’s influence, created one of (arguably) the most stunning temples on the coast. Not architecturally, perhaps, but the murals are quite something.

Obyron and Arya married in that very temple when they were ready and moved into the old clergy house nearby. It had just enough space for them and...someone else.

The University didn’t have the power or knowledge Arya needed to have children, but the couple started saving up anyway, just in case. But “just in case” never happened. Some things fell by the wayside. The temple needed maintenance. The docks needed repairs. The people needed advice. Time just got away from them. They grew older. Even if there was a way for Arya to have carried children, she’d now be too old for it.

They were considering adoption when Poseidon provided an alternative. Obyron had come into the habit of taking early morning walks along the beach, taking in the sounds and smells on the sea. Maybe pick up a few nice shells to bring home; Arya liked to make little paintings inside of them.

Instead of seashells, Obyron found Blight. For all intents and purposes, the little tiefling looked like a 12-year-old. He was half-drowned, frightened, malnourished, and clearly abused. Trust came slowly, but Obyron coaxed it out of him eventually. He and Arya put the boy up in their spare bedroom and started the long, painful process of rehabilitating him:

No, you can’t bite people. No, you can’t just take things. No, that’s not how we treat children. No, the doctor isn’t going to hurt you. No, we don’t eat on the floor like dogs, sit at the table please. No, you don’t need to sleep hiding under the bed, nothing here will harm you. No, we’re not angry you had a night terror and woke us up. No, we’re not angry you had a panic attack and needed to go home early. No, we’re not angry you didn’t tell us where you were, we were just scared. Yes, you can ask for hugs if they make you feel better. Yes, you can sleep with us tonight. No, it’s not weird for us. Yes, you absolutely have to listen to Obyron’s terrible dad jokes. Yes, you’re learning how to weave a fishing net, it’s useful and our neighbor has arthritis so he needs help. Yes, you’re going to the festival with us, it’s good for you to get out. No, you may not whine about it. No, we don’t think it’s weird you want to wear a dress instead. Yes, you look beautiful. Yes, you have to wear the flower crown Arya made for you, it’s adorable. Yes, you have to return the merchant’s ring. Yes, I know it’s hard. No, it’s not fair life turned out like this. Yes, you can have another hug. Yes, I really am going to use ocean puns to give you life advice. No, you can’t complain about it. Yes, I mean it when I say you’re a blessing. Yes, we do love you. No, we’re not lying. Yes, you can always have another hug.