He was raised outside Laagehoven, in the informal settlements, caravan spurs, and transient communities that form along the capital’s outer arteries. Laagehoven itself is orderly and safe, but beyond its walls prosperity thins quickly. Riven grew up among laborers, porters, refugees, and seasonal workers—places where survival depended on awareness, adaptability, and knowing when to move on.
He learned to fight not through crime, but through defense and necessity: protecting people, breaking up dangerous situations, and surviving unstable border conditions where Council authority was distant. His skill with a blade comes from close-quarters encounters in camps, ruins, and half-mapped roads rather than alleys and gangs.
Riven joined the Consortium seeking legitimacy, steady work, and a framework
His face is weathered but young, with faint sunlines at the eyes and a thin scar along his jaw. His eyes are a muted gray-blue. Lean and built for endurance
Riven dresses practically and unobtrusively. He wears a dark, well-maintained cloak suited for travel, with a hood used against weather more than concealment. Beneath it is fitted leather armor, reinforced in places that matter and repaired carefully over time. At his side a sword, the grip worn smooth from habit. His boots are sturdy and dust-stained.
Overall, Riven looks capable but unremarkable—the sort of man guards forget moments after passing him. Only when he departs on a mission, does it become clear that he is far more dangerous than he appears.
