<<the unsevered>>

DATA LOG.

job: SAM/RPR/CUL
race: au ra (mixed raen/xaela)
age: ~25
birthplace: terncliff, ilsabard
residence: limsa lominsa
nameday: unknown

“my, what brilliant scales of black and white.„

An intimidating exterior belies a rather shy young man. Unfailing politely and possessed of a soft heart, Fero is skilled of the sword, though not of words. In many instances, he is often clumsy, naive and easy to fool. Nor does Fero consider himself particularly smart, a fact he is acutely aware of.

He has notable habits that seem to have arisen from his troubled youth, to put it mildly. For example, Fero hardly ever initiates a conversation, nor will he eat or drink without being instructed to first.

Despite such shyness, Fero is a man of strong convictions. It seems ironic, given his less-than angelic past, that he would have such strong senses of justice and loyalty. Or, perhaps, it is most fitting. Regardless, Fero works hard to make amends for himself. Whether he is forgiven or not matters little; there is only one path but forward.

Once in Eorzea, Fero's hobbies include collecting cookbooks. The pastry recipes wherein are his favorite of the bunch. Fero has a large collection of stuffed animals, though he hardly gets the opportunity to showcase them all.

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“you won't take him from me without a fight.„

There are few things in the world Fero hates more than talking about his past. But if he must, and if he must choose a place to begin, it might as well begin here:

Some twenty years past, an eccentric daughter of the Kha meets a native of Terncliff. They fall in love, they live happily together, for a time, with their newborn son. And were it another tale, that would have been the end of it.

In this tale, however, the husband and wife are presumably slaughtered in cold-blood, and their infant son is captured by Garlemald.

Now, with Terncliff in the subjugated territory, young Fero is offered a new name and a new choice by Garlemald. He either submits as a conscript, a weapon of violence, or dies like his parents before him. There's no more peace to be found, they tell him. There is only survival.

Young Fero finds survival the better fit. He would proceed to make his way as a contracted assassin, training ever since the age of fourteen. And once a contract is on the table, rest assured that he means to fulfill it.

That is, until he plans his escape.

There are parts of the story that need not be spoken in words. They already linger in the scars of Fero's forearms, or the burn marks on his back. And though his story is, ultimately, that of violence, Fero does not intend for it to end that way.

Not if he has any say in the matter.

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“dead or alive, he must return. i don't care which it is.„

When Fero is twenty-three, he makes one last desperate act. He runs. Without a particular plan in mind, he gathers among a collection of other conscripts and Garlean prisoners to stage an escape.

Fero doesn't know whether it's by sheer luck or sheer stupidity that he managed to make it to Eorzea alive. He would flee via a cargo ship to Limsa Lominsa, aided by an unlikely band of smugglers. They take pity on him, perhaps. Either that or they were too lazy to kill him where he stood.

And once he's on the ground, Fero doesn't know where to go. His first few months are spent aimlessly doing mercenary work, at least to collect enough gil to stay at the Mizzenmast Inn day by day. He finds himself, however, anxious at the proximity to violence. Eventually, Fero would find employ through the Culinarian's Guild as a chef.

However far from Ilsabard he is, Fero's worries remain steadfast. Though the warm scent of baking bread and pastries soothes his mind, Fero can't help but wonder when it is he'll get found out. Or, worse, when they'll drag him back to the battlefield.

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“can't tell whether that man is an angel or a demon. he's probably both.„

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