It's a strange sort of honor to bear witness to the last moments of a person's life. With all the pretense stripped away and the sinking realization of that finality taking hold, a man tends to become more himself than he's ever been since birth. And while -- for the most part -- Wrench has never been one to leave his victims to languish in their final moments, he's seen plenty of different reactions in his time. He used to think maybe they held the clue to what lies on the other side, but over time he's convinced himself they're nothing more than the chemical reaction of the brain in its own death throes.

So maybe this is that for him: an endless abyss, still and calm. A bit of reprieve from where his deepest, most unspoken trepidations tell him he might end up next Or maybe this is all there ever will be. An eternity spent hanging in a nowhere-place.

Except that he needs to breathe. His lungs are still screaming for air, and the realization of that brings more to consciousness. Wrench can feel his body, and now he feels it being ripped from this wet cocoon and flung elsewhere.

Maybe the trajectory of Wrench's life is bound towards a single, fixed point. Perhaps there's no reason for him to ever consider that there could have been another path. If there were, why would he be standing here now, involuntarily conscripted into a war he knows nothing about? He's destined to be a tool, a weapon for others' free use. At least the realization makes this all feel somehow familiar.

training grounds

Hand-to-hand combat has never been Wrench's forte, but he's a quick study when it comes to ranged weapons. For want of what to do -- and maybe a quiet desire to satisfy the soldiers' clear interest -- he makes himself at home with a throwing axe, aiming near-bullseye after near-bullseye at a variety of distant targets. It's the kind of compulsive, showy behavior that might earn him a challenger.

swan song

Animals are almost as familiar to Wrench as weaponry. Being from the upper Midwest means he's had occasion to cross into Canada, so swans aren't unfamiliar to him. But Wrench's aim is usually to kill. If he comes across a shopkeeper or passerby in need of a hand he'll be glad to help out, but he might not realize he shouldn't bleed and pluck it.

Wrench's arrival in Solvunn does nothing to reassure him that this isn't some version of an afterlife. And maybe there's a part of him that wants to believe that anything that greets him after would look similar to this. He finds his surroundings comfortable and familiar in ways that ease his initial anxiety. While he's wary of following anyone, he finds the urging and offering of a hot meal too much for him to refuse for very long.

goat racing

The tall, silent man is one of the last to pass judgment about the way people spend their time. Goat racing might seem like the favored pastime of luddites, but who's to say he's any better than that? Pretty soon he finds himself standing in front of a tan and black billy with large, sickle-shaped horns and not a single brain cell to be had. Wrench waggles a handful of wildflowers and smacks its rump, which promptly gets him bunted.

shrine supervision

At nearly 6'4" of silent judgment, Wrench cuts an imposing figure just by crossing his arms and fixing his facial expressions into a neutral position. He might be new around Solvunn, but his scowl makes a good substitute for a reputation. Catch him frowning in the direction of a particularly boisterous adolescent, totally unaware there's a snake just behind him.

When Wrench realizes there's more to this world than the faction he's found himself summoned into, he'll use his provided pendant to travel into the portal to Nocwich. There he can be found searching out weaponry or seedlings at the marketplace, or poking around the hunting woods with a crossbow. Eventually he might make his way into The Arcanis and look promptly out of place as he accidentally stumbles upon the spas.

OOC: Please feel free to throw anything Wrench's way, even if I didn't write a starter for it.
One notable point is that Wrench is Deaf and nonspeaking. I've got a Communication FAQ page for any questions or concerns.
You can also catch me at stickyholograms if you'd like.