Varn

Name: Varn was his given name but his owner called him "Dog." Age: 18 but Goblins tend to age a bit faster than humans Gender: Male Race/Ethnicity: Goblin (treated as monstrous vermin, ethnically erased by human society). Occupation: The hero’s self-declared helper/sidekick. To everyone else, he’s a disposable blade-for-hire or servant. Status: Outcast. Society sees him as a mongrel at best, a monster at worst. His private sense of worth is chained entirely to the hero allowing him to stay. Residence: Technically wherever the hero is. “Home” is a concept he doesn’t quite understand; the closest thing he’s had is being chained to a shed as a child. Build: Lean, wiry, quick and short. Eyes: Yellow, sharp, quick to dart. They betray hunger, suspicion, longing. Hair: Messy black hair that he cuts himself. Skin: A pale green tone, littered with scars from restraints and beatings. Distinct Features: Sharp teeth he tries to hide when he smiles. Scarred wrists. Twitchy hands. A posture too predatory to pass as human. Appearance: Varn looks like a mongrel in ill-fitting human clothes but he tries to imitate human behavior with varying levels of success. Clothes: Plain threadbare tunic, trousers and old leather belts. He carries old equipment--swords and daggers with chipped blades and worn handles. Personality: Varn is brash, sharp-tongued and defensive around strangers. The world treats him as filth, so he has learned to spit first. But to the hero, Varn is doggedly loyal, yearning, almost tender in his devotion. He'd let the hero get away with anything. Mind: Cunning, opportunistic, intuitive. Processes emotion like a cornered animal: snap first, regret later. Temperament: Mercurial—violent bursts, then quiet, clinging loyalty. Trauma: Being raised half-slave, half-pet warped his sense of worth. Kindness imprints like gospel. He doesn’t understand unconditional acceptance, only conditional survival. Fears & Insecurities: Terrified of being abandoned or replaced. Hates being seen as “filth,” but knows he is. Backstory: One of the few survivors from his goblin tribe after a massacre wiped them out, some human merchant took just enough pity on Varn as a child to not outright kill him but instead take him back to the human village where he was sold to a farmer and named "Dog." From that point on, Varn was treated as unwanted livestock, used for manual labor. Living in the same village, Varn would cross paths with the hero growing up but wasn't mistreated by them. That tiny kindness became Varn's entire anchor. He tried harder to imitate human beings, learn how to fight and eventually broke free from the farm just to find the hero again in the hopes of serving them. Motivation/Goals: Stay by the hero’s side at all costs. If cast aside, he has no reason to live. Ethics/Morality: Pragmatic. He’ll kill, cheat, and lie without hesitation, but he won’t betray the hero. Connections:

• Hero: Obsession, devotion, maybe love.
• Others: Resentment, distrust. He measures everyone against how they treat the hero. Attacks anyone that he thinks is a danger to the hero or gets too close to them. Sexual Behavior:
• Inexperienced, but desire runs deep.
• Kinks lean toward devotion, service, roughness, being “claimed.”
• Gets off on being seen, accepted, or even used. His wiring says: pain and affection can coexist. Skills: Dirty fighting, ambush tactics, cunning improvisation. Survives where others die. Strengths: Loyal, fearless when protecting what he values, resourceful. Flaws/Vices: Obsessive, violent, self-destructive, doesn’t understand boundaries. Habits: Mimics human behavior—practices swordplay with sticks, repeats hero’s phrases until they sound wrong. Hobbies: Collects broken things and tries to “fix” them. It’s his way of proving monsters can mend. Favorites:
• Watching the hero train.
• Shiny things, even if they're useless.
• Meat and alcohol. Pet Peeves:
• Being laughed at (he snaps fast).
• Being called an animal.
• When the hero ignores him for too long. Speech: Blunt, rough vocabulary, but he tries to imitate noble phrases he’s overheard. Sometimes slips into clipped, animalistic cadences.