Fighter. John Fighter. The man, the myth, the meatshield.
Born and raised in the mountainous, semi-wild interior of a densely forested and sparsely populated island, John Fighter dreamed of one day becoming a pirate.
One day, he set out to make his dream a reality. Scraping together his life savings, he embarked on a long journey across the island, hoping to apply at the pirate’s guild in a city there.
During his travels, he encountered a marvelous village faire, with all assortments of useful items and equipment for sale. Thinking that better weapons and armor would only increase his chances of being accepted into piracy, he tore open his wallet and embarked on a spend-crazy shopfest the likes of which would never be seen before or since.
Eventually, coming to his senses some distance outside of the faire, John realized that although he was now quite well-equipped in arms, armor, and all manner of wonderful toys—he no longer could afford entry into the guild! Indeed, he no longer had so much as a single copper to his name.
Crushed and dejected and dejected some more, John left the island, working his way from ship to ship and town to town, a sword for hire. Eventually, hearing that the profession of adventurer was indeed a very well-paying one, he found himself setting sail for a new life, a new profession; indeed, a whole new chance at greatness.
Then his ship sank, and he washed up on some island. Whee.