Sitting alone on the dock along the harbor of Manfredonia, Trey sighed contentedly and watched the activity of the ships coming and going, longshoremen and stevedores loading and unloading cargo from faraway ports, and just the general chaotic mayhem of a city that was both vibrant and hardworking. Trey had always had a fondness for the city of Manfredonia, so much so that he nearly considered it as being his hometown.

It wasn’t, of course. Any outside observer would be hard-pressed to determine that on their own, though. Trey had what was frequently described as a swarthy Forzarrean appearance, his skin a mixture of deeply tanned from nearly constant outdoor exposure and that olive tan complexion so prevalent among the realms that encircled the Forzarrean Sea. His eyes were a light brown, almost golden hue that sparkled as though he had just witnessed a delightful scene. His teeth were nigh unto perfect, and shined almost unnaturally when he smiled. His thick black hair was forever tousled and yet fell into place as if an enchantment had been placed to make his appearance as appealing as possible. He almost always had stubble on his face, but he didn’t have a moustache or beard and did his best to shave every third day or so. His laughter was contagious and frequent, and the smile he almost always wore had creased wrinkles around his eyes that made him appear older than he really was.

A fun fact that anyone who knew Trey could attest to was that nobody had ever witnessed him lose his temper. In fact his relatives and people who considered him a close personal friend wouldn’t even be able to say for certain that they had ever seen him get angry. Trey was a man who seemed to live by a simple set of rules and guidelines, the hallmark of which could best be defined as “moderation.” He drank, but never to excess. He enjoyed good food, and yet took modest portions and never wasted what was provided. He did not have a permanent home, rather he spent the majority of his time traveling from one place to another doing what he could to make the lives of strangers more tolerable. Everything he owned he either wore or had packed into a modestly sized rucksack that he carried over his shoulder. The only weapons he had was the sharp dagger he used for shaving and cleaning fish and animals he killed for meat and a longsword that hung in its scabbard from his belt. While he didn’t wear any jewelry he did wear a pair of silver and brass bracers on his forearms and he had a plain silver chain around his neck upon which hung a simple medallion that he kept tucked in his tunic. Only the stealthiest of rogues would have even noticed the chain because Trey kept it well hidden under his clothing. His garb is simple, usually a tan tunic and leather breeches with either a vest or jacket of wool or leather depending on the weather. He will give his coat away when it gets warmer, and buy another when the climate turns chilly. He doesn’t even carry a bedroll or blanket, preferring to sleep as he is wherever he happens to get tired.

While famously a solitary man it would be a misnomer to characterize Trey as being unsociable. Quite the opposite. Trey was a keen lover of music and while he didn’t do much singing or claim skill with a musical instrument, he was a brilliant and nimble dancer. He readily made friends of the people he met, and seems to be able to recall names and faces of folks he has encountered years later should they cross his path again. His feats and adventures run the gamut from helping to harvest a poor farmer’s apple crop to fighting and vanquishing horrifying monsters plaguing a small, beleaguered village. Rarely does he accept payment for anything he does, but instead contributes what coins he has on hand to help further alleviate the poverty of those that are in need around him. And then, humming a happy tune, he sets off to see where the road will take him next. Trey has sailed with pirates, broken bread with goblinoids, and done menial jobs side by side with misfits and ne’er-do-wells. He has politely spurned the affections of many a fair maiden, gently ignored the offers of nobility to feast at their tables, and given up large monetary rewards for his services to those unable to fend for themselves. Trey is what some folks would call an odd duck. But he is always cheerful and always on the move.