Sylvestor "Sly" Emanuel, Former Lady's Man, age 34
As a young man, you slept around a lot, and got quite the reputation as a ladykiller. You also got beaten up a lot, because men thought their wives were cheating on them with you. It was true about half the time.
You were going to make something of yourself. You were that guy, the one who always tried to reach beyond his grasp. You had great ambition. Your plan was to hop a cart and travel the world, find a place that was big enough for you. Maybe try to journey into Faerie, see what that was like.
And then the Emperor came. The carts stopped coming through town and the factory was built. He needed munitions for the wars he wanted to fight, and Tedoch had a good supply of natural materials. And your mother died. Suddenly you were a man, and you found that it wasn't exactly to your liking. It wasn't as fun as you thought it would be. Instead of the adventures the stories made you expect, you were greeted only with hunger and cold and rising debt.
You got a job at the factory and tried to make something of yourself in the harsh light of reality. You wanted to outlive the image of your younger self, so you worked as hard as you could and focused on gathering the amenities of life. You built a house (that leaks) and married a woman (who loves you), because that's what a man is expected to do. You met your wife at, of all places, the fighting pits. She was there to see her brother, Kryg, fight. She was from a neighboring town, but she moved to Tedoch because of your steady job.
The fact that you two are an interracial couple receives some note, but not as much as you expected. The real problem with having Taerya move to Tedoch was that she started hearing rumors about your younger days: rumors that suggested that you were less than faithful. This is completely untrue, but you know she suspects you of cheating on her when you work late at the factory. The truth is, you really do want to leave that part of you behind. Thinking back on your almost painful optimism is difficult for you, so you don't like to talk about who you were then. You generally change the subject.
You used to be friends with Will Casta, a man who enlisted with the Emperor when his name came up. You never heard directly from him again, but his wife sometimes sent you his regards. You two meet up for lunch occasionally to reminisce about him. A man is also expected to have friends, but all you have now are memories of your good times.
Tonight, Foreman Jones has asked you to work late on some paperwork, and to lock up afterwards. But no one would steal from the factory. That's silly. Right?