Bolivar Jackson was a Cursebreaker, had been for a few years now. And like everyone before him, and those that would come after him, he had graduated from the Guild of Cursebreakers located deep within Dietanstad. It was a place were men and women without purpose, would come and train. To become Cursebreakers, monster hunters and mercenaries though with a higher purpose. They cared little for politics, or who sat on the throne. A Cursebreaker, like Bolivar, cared for gold and gold alone.
Business had been good. There was always someone in need to have a curse broken, a powerful monster slain or a lingering ghost banished. These were the things Bolivar and his kind did, they solved problems no one else could, problems that required a special finesse and knowledge to complete. Problems that did not come cheap.
He had been born to a seemingly unimportant Father and Mother somewhere deep within the lands of Canavia. Not that it held any meaning to him, his loyalty, his purpose was with the Guild and them alone. Had been ever since he came there on that fateful winter night, alone, tired, cold and scared. He had been taken in as a young boy and like many of those before him, he had been put through rigorous training in both sword fighting, alchemy, stealth, survival and archery. A Cursebreaker worked alone, and would need to rely on himself in any situation. They were a family, but they rarely worked in groups and rarely even spoke unless two would meet out in the wilds.
Over the years, Bolivar had done many tasks and jobs, ranging from minor monster infestations to the banishment of the Undead. In return, he had earned gold and fame. Though it resembled infamy more than fame. But he didn't mind, at least then when he was given jobs, they would know that he could be trusted to carry it out.
Not all was perfect though, there had been a job he had taken in the Tattered Marches, a job that seemed easy but was anything but. It strained his body and mind however he eventually managed to fulfill the contract. When Bolivar returned to the Baron for payment, he was met with nothing but betrayal and promise of death, a fate he escaped of course, yet the Baron never really forgave or forgot. He had been tasked with ridding the county of a Werewolf and had done so. Though the Werewolf had been the Baron's only daughter and like many others, the Baron blamed the Cursebreakers, for being the reason such a curse happened upon his daughter in the first place.
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