Wardrobe

Villager: Nicodemus Willshire

~ On a foggy autumn morning, he heard the heavy growls coming from behind the ridge of birch trees. The sound of chain jiggling in the crisp air was music to his ears.

Ah, another one. A good start to the season so far.

Nicodemus trotted into the woods, the loamy floor wet and cold. The doge jumping and whirling in the air, snarling and snapping at the chain, was a warm welcome. Nicodemus crouched in front of it, laying a finger to the muddy, shredded up circle the doge danced in, froth flying from it's mouth and eyes reflecting an intelligent fury.

"You should shut up." Nicodemus sneered as he gave a gentle chuckle when he stood up, readying the catch pole and muzzle, "Once I get you out of that trap, I'm going to tame you and you're going to be a loyal beast. You hear me?"

He pinned the doge down. Using his feet, he flipped the levers loose on the trap and pulled the unwilling beast back to his wagon, where he fitted the muzzle on. Beside the doge was an array of other muzzled or caged creatures, each wild eyed and wary.

Nicodemus made his way back to the wagon, brushing mud clumps off his knees. He bid the forest farewell and when Tigereye Peak made it's birth in the horizon, his heart sank and soured. How many mice would whisper to him today? How many lies and false smiles would he deliver? He didn't know, but he knew he was going to climb a few rungs higher today. ~

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Nicodemus is a conceited and sly sort, not very trustworthy to most. Although his friends tend to stand by him, from what little he actually has anyways. He's quiet but very observant of his surroundings.

He tends to put on a classy and sociable front when he needs to deceive, but he's truly more introverted and prefers solitude. He has a large network of false friendships to his own benefit, and a small thread of genuine friendships. He absorbs whispers and gossip from everyone, keeping tabs on everything.

He had humble beginnings as a school teacher, but eventually left the profession to a more natural, solitary lifestyle of trapping and domesticating wildlife. He feels like his old, more innocent self when he's among the snow and trees, free of his deceiving and ambitious habits.

He is keen for rings and broaches, such things attract his eye. He has a hoard of broaches in his personal collections, serving no purpose other than to be shiny. Some are stolen, some were gifts from friends.

He's a clever liar and often does things to his own benefit, but he draws the line at absolute direct cruelty. He's handsome and a little vain, but is also rough and enduring. When he isn't lying and vying in town, he's in the snowy wastes trapping, hunting, and domesticating beasts.