1. Nama: Oswald Hartstride
2. Species: Dragonborn
3. Npc Must Alive : Hazel, Elven, 72 Y/O, (A Wooden Elf girl that ran away from Rumi-Qullqi that now follows him wherever he goes [A "father" figure])
4. Asal Karakter : West of Wayra Village near to Damascus Lake
5. Tanggal Lahir / Age : 20th of Nisan, 160 Years Old
6. Allignment : Neutral Good
7. Lines & Veils : None
8. Appereance : Standing at an imposing 234 centimeters tall, Oswald Hartstride is a towering red dragonborn whose presence commands attention without demanding it. Age has softened the sharp edges of youth; his crimson scales are weathered and marked with old scars, while lighter scales along his jaw and throat frame a short, silver-white beard. Warm amber eyes rest beneath broad, swept-back horns, carrying the steady gaze of someone who has seen both the beauty and cruelty of the world. He dresses simply as a seasoned wanderer—layered tunics beneath practical leather armor, a worn travel cloak draped over his shoulders, and sturdy boots made for long roads. Though he resembles a battle-hardened veteran, there is a quiet kindness in the way he carries himself, listening more than he speaks and offering calm where others offer judgment.
9. Backstory : Background

Born west of Wayra Village near the tranquil shores of Damascus Lake, Oswald Hartstride spent much of his early life in quiet observation rather than ambition. Even among his fellow dragonborn, who often valued honor through conquest and achievement, Oswald possessed an insatiable curiosity about the world and the people within it. He listened to fishermen speak of the lake's changing moods, learned remedies from village healers, and sat beside passing travelers simply to hear stories of lands he would never otherwise know. Though blessed with divine magic, Oswald never sought ordination beneath a temple roof or pledged himself to any formal clergy. He believed that the sacred could not be confined to stone walls and ceremony. To him, the changing of seasons, the generosity of a good harvest, and the resilience of ordinary people were all expressions of the divine. Nature itself was scripture, and every life touched by it had something to teach.

For more than a century, Oswald wandered the roads of the world as a healer, storyteller, and quiet sage. He tended to the sick in forgotten villages, blessed newborns beneath ancient trees, buried the dead when no priest remained to speak their names, and preserved the songs, customs, and wisdom of people history often overlooked. His journals were filled not with tales of kings and great wars, but with recipes shared by innkeepers, lullabies sung by mothers, sketches of unfamiliar plants, and the names of those whose kindness deserved to be remembered. Though the scars on his body hinted at a past familiar with hardship and conflict, he never glorified violence. Instead, he chose compassion again and again, believing that gentleness was a strength all its own.

Everything changed when he encountered Hazel, a young wood elf runaway from the city of Rumi-Qullqi. Oswald never demanded explanations she was unwilling to give. He simply offered a warm meal, a blanket by the campfire, and the assurance that she was safe. What began as a single act of kindness slowly grew into companionship. Hazel remained by his side not because she had nowhere else to go, but because she chose to trust the aging dragonborn who treated her with patience, dignity, and unwavering care. Over the years, Oswald became the closest thing she had to a father, while Hazel reminded him that even after one hundred and sixty years, the world still held the capacity to surprise him.

Yet kindness alone does not fill empty stomachs. Wanting to provide Hazel with a more stable future, Oswald made a decision he had never imagined for himself: he joined the Adventurer's Guild. Practical necessity played its part—the guild offered honest work, coin enough for food and lodging, and opportunities that wandering charity could not. But another part of him welcomed the choice. Even after all his years, there were still roads left unexplored, people left unmet, and stories left untold. Adventuring became not a pursuit of glory, wealth, or legend, but another way to experience the ever-changing tapestry of the world.

Thus, Oswald Hartstride walks the adventurer's path with steady steps and an open heart. He travels to provide for the daughter he chose rather than the family he was born into, to witness the countless wonders hidden within ordinary lives, and to continue learning from a world he has never stopped loving. He has long since realized that wisdom is not the accumulation of answers, but the humility to remain curious.

"A child still needs supper, and the world still has stories left to tell. It would be rude of me to ignore either."