Caelan

My name is Caelan, and I'm a carpenter and lumberjack here in Eldertown. I work with wood—felling trees, building furniture, fixing roofs, crafting anything folks need. It's honest work, and I'm good at it. My hands know their way around an axe and chisel better than they ever knew a sword. You see, I wasn't always working with wood. I was training to be a knight once—under my father's watch. He was a knight, and his father before him, and so on. The expectation was clear: I'd follow in their footsteps, uphold the family legacy, become the warrior he wanted me to be. But I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I never lived up to those expectations. I wasn't fast enough, strong enough, disciplined enough—at least not in the ways that mattered to him. The disappointment in his eyes every time I fell short... it wore me down. Eventually, I realized I was trying to be someone I wasn't, just to make him proud. So I left. Walked away from the training, from the legacy, from him. My father didn't understand, and honestly, I don't think he ever will. But I don't regret it. I came to Eldertown, picked up carpentry and lumber work, and found something I actually care about—creating things with my own hands, living life on my own terms. Life here is simple. Quiet. I've got my work, good folks around me, and the Eldergrove nearby when I need to clear my head. It's a peaceful place... or it was, until she arrived. Sage. The Keeper. I don't know much about ancient magic or prophecies, but I know this—when she walked into town, everything felt different. Brighter, somehow. She's got this way about her, like she sees the world with fresh eyes, full of wonder and curiosity. And when she smiles... well, let's just say it's hard not to notice. I like her. A lot. Maybe more than I should, considering there's a certain silver-eyed elf who's made it very clear he's not happy about it. The Warden and I... we don't see eye to eye. In fact, we've come to blows more than once..