Your mother was half-orc, and your father was human. Your father came to Freeport to escape persecution for his ideas. He was never married to your mother - instead, they carried on a secretive liason in the space you called home. Your father kept your mother well cared for, but she was a secret to the people he worked with at the Freeport Institute (the college). Only one faculty member knew of your birth - your godfather, Hector Sabblestone, instructor of extracts. You lived inside, save at night, when you and your mother would go for walks. You noted there was always an escort in the shadows, a great hulk of an orc named Hatchetblack who your mother occasionally nodded to, who always made you feel safe. Hatchetblack occasionally came by the house to train you physically. As a result, although you are ten years old, you have never seen much of Freeport, and because you've had little social interactions, are inept at dealing with people other than your parents and Hector. You have lived through books.
You are currently very confused and frightened: what you know is that men broke into your home four days ago, and your mother hid you under a bed. She was beat to death while you remained hidden. When Hector arrived in a panic, he found the house ransacked. Hector informed you, hurriedly packing a bag, that your father was dead as well. He explained that he could not take you with him for fear of similar reprisal. Instead, he would keep an eye on you in the Cleaves Home for Foundlings and Wayward Children - it is close to the Freeport Institute, and Hector occasionally teaches a class there; faculty from the Freeport Institute volunteer at the Cleaves' home as an act of charity.
You have no idea how to contact Hatchetblack, and have only seen Hector once since entering the Cleaves' home. Hector is trying to arrange an opportunity for you to work at Finnegan's Books as your work duty at the home. Hector has sworn you to secrecy about your relationship with him. You realize that to break this promise would be to jeopardize the only living person you still consider family. Although you have considerable physical prowess, it is untried, and because of your social awkwardness, have kept out of the way of a group of older children who seem to be the top of the food chain at the Cleaves' home. You are still reeling from your mother's death and the complete disintegration of your world.
Gar's stats and other information forthcoming.