Saffron May (Done)

Saffron grew up in a small bar known as “The Alchemist's Glass” located in the city of Vale. Being that his house was literally above a place where people go to get drunk and generally do adult things he had to grow up quickly, proverbially speaking. When he was only about ten Saffron was already working the bar helping out his father. It became apparent rather quickly that he had a talent for creating new alcoholic concoctions, and though he enjoyed it that was not what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. On a particularly bleak and stormy night a man entered the bar already drunk. When he tried to order a drink and Saffron's father refused the man drew a gun. Without thinking Saffron grabbed the shotgun from under the bar and shot the man directly in the torso, seven times. After this incident whenever he touched a gun Saffron would begin to shake and freeze up.

When he was old enough Saffron enrolled in a combat school, though he still didn't know what he wanted to do he figured he wouldn't figure it out in a bar. Once there it became readily apparent that he was all but useless with any form of bladed weapon. Luckily; however, his skill with dust was something to marvel at. It wasn't until he transferred to Beacon that Saffron discovered his calling. One of his teachers taught him a new perspective with which to look at the world. In his heart he knew that he wanted to become a teacher. At graduation Saffron began studying teaching, shortly thereafter he became an assistant teacher at the same combat school he had studded at as a youngster.

After hearing about a school out in Bellmuse what was looking for teacher Saffron unhappily applied, hoping to get the chance to enlighten and perhaps inspire.

Today was a slow day. Then again the past six months had been nothing but slow days. That damned “Crowbar” had opened up just a block away and was stealing all the costumers. Sure all the stuff there was imported directly from Atlas, but none of it was original, none of it had style. Saffron worried what would happen to this place when he left. Sure his old man could mix up a mean martini, but that was about it. Hell, ever since he had been old enough to stand over the bar, maybe with a little help from a wooden stool, Saffron had been mixing drinks and practicing the family business. Even when he had studded at Beacon he would sneak out whenever he could and work the bar.

“Mix me up something new,” A patron said taking a seat at the all but empty bar.

“Coming up,” Saffron responded reaching for a few bottles below the counter and began to work his magic.