Derek is a man of modest build with shoulders broadened by hours at the forge. He has short, sandy brown hair and clear, grey eyes that reflect a quiet confidence. He typically wears practical chain mail covered by a rugged surcoat, and his hands are permanently stained with a bit of soot and calloused from hard labor.

I am a man of the people who prefers a hot meal and a warm fire to a gilded throne. I am slow to anger, but once my ire is raised, I am as relentless as the hammer on the anvil. I speak plainly and value honesty above all else.

Derek was born and raised in the quiet hamlet of Oakhaven, where he served as the apprentice to the village smith. His life was one of repetitive labor and simple joys, until the day a detachment of mercenary deserters attempted to extort the town. While the local sheriff was away, Derek rallied the shopkeepers and farmers, teaching them to stand their ground. Using a heavy mallet and a borrowed bow, he personally drove off the mercenaries' leader in a display of unexpected marksmanship and courage. The village hailed him as a hero, but Derek saw himself only as a neighbor doing what was right. However, the experience awoke a realization that the world beyond Oakhaven was filled with those who prey on the weak. Armed with his smithing tools and the very gear he once repaired for others, he set out to ensure that other villages wouldn't have to face such threats alone. He remains a commoner at heart, always remembering the smell of the coal fire and the weight of the hammer.