Age: Middle forties
Weight: Heavy set
Profession: Prospector and blacksmith
Personal motto: The wheels of commerce turn
A dusty figure approaches you, ambling down the mountain side, pick in one hand, the other filled with a small stash of ore. As he comes further into view, you notice the squat, dirty, and unkempt man doesn't immediately cut a heroic figure. He approaches you eagerly, displaying his find readily, the ore glimmering in the midday sun. “Tha'r be gold in them tha'r hills!”, he announces, his own gold coated teeth glimmering. A brief moment of joviality puts you at ease, before the brim of his wide hat casts a dark shadow across his face. “An' its all mine laddy, and don't ye be thinkin' otherwise.” He shoots you a stern look, spitting at your feet as he strolls past you, rubbing his grubby hands together greedily.
Jarvis Miller is the first born of Jarvis Miller Senior, Covian peasant, minor tradesman, and former supplier of arms to the Covian Grenadiers. The Miller family was well known around Cove, infamous for their feuds and back room dealings. Possessing no formal education, Jarvis was destined to take over the family business when disaster struck as his father was murdered by unknown assailants. Whether it was the Altmere Liberation Front taking revenge for the family's devout support of the Baron, or if it was simply a business deal turned bad is unknown. Either way, Cove was no longer a place to linger for Jarvis, and a life on the road beckoned. With dreams of gold and glory, he set out to explore the world beyond.
The life of a prospector was a hard one, filled with dashed hopes, bar brawls, near scrapes with monsters both natural and unnatural, and relentless solitude. The mountains of Britannia yielded enough for a modest living, but that dream haul never materialised. Led to Blackwell by another whispered tavern rumour of deposits aplenty, Jarvis finally felt age and the vigorous of a travelling life catching up with him. As he strolled around the streets of Blackwell he felt at home - or at least, as close to home as he could be. He set about constructing a small shop from which to sell his goods; yet he never gave up on the belief that Blackwell's mountains may still yet hold riches untold. In the meanwhile however, he'd seek political power and wealth however he could get it. Selling to the locals in avaricious pursuit of a personal fortune was his immediate goal - yet how far he would go to achieve it, and how he would use it once he acquired it, remained to be seen.