Millet, spilling the tea:
DILIGENT HALFLING FIGHTER FROM AN UNCHARTABLE ISLAND WHO IS SECRETLY ENAMORED BY EMBROIDERY
“Complete ye tasks any fasta’ or any betta’ and I’d be forced to assume you’s ain’t a Halfling- but a sorceress aiming to inevitably black mail me.” Dunbar said while gleefully patting Quin’s back.
Quin, gently bows in appreciation.
“Thank you sir, your compliments are much too kind. Will that be all?”
“No, I wish to drown ye ears in unsolicited advice for a minute.”
Quin looks up troubled, he was under the impression he could do no better so what could there possibly be to give advice on?
“Wipe ya face of that alarm, you misunderstand.”
Quin uncomfortably stands straight, prompting Dunbar to continue what he has to say.
“You are a diligent fighter, you play your role here in the Hunters Guild well. But, uh- can’t help but notice people avoid ye, lookin’ at ya as too much a goody goody.-”
Quin unintentionally cuts Dunbar off.
“I’m alright with that sir, my duties come first. I care not for a popularity contest.”
“I wasn’t finished ya bum, I told ye I had advice not a statement. I’d never tell ye to work less hard, but perhaps ye need not….” Dunbar stumbles on his thoughts.
“need not?....” Quin implores
“Need not dress to impress. Ye a hunter, find something comfy and practical. The boys I’m sure can appreciate your hard work. But by Gods you dress like you should be on the royal court. It’s an unnecessary effort my friend and it sends off the worng message.”
Quin looks down in shame. Eyes darting left to right.
“Sorry sir, but this is how my people dress and I find preserving my Islander culture, is a personal duty of mine.”
Dunbar’s head kinked to the side.
“Lad, it just looks like fancy embroidery on any ol’ tunic to me. No one would guess this is foreign atti-“
Once again, Quin cuts Dunbar off- immediately irritating him.
“IT ISNT JUST ANY OL’ TUNIC. It’s made of felted equine hair, and the punctures of the embroidery hold much better on this material compared to other laise’ scraps!”
Immediately after finishing, Quin’s face shot of embarrassment, and a tinge of anxiety began to escalate in his chest as he took in Dunbar’s furrowed brows and half pursed lips.
“A small unheard of island is known for it’s horses and clothing made from?” Dunbar asks skeptically and condescendingly.
It is true Quin came from an island allegedly cut off from the rest of the world. Quin had traveled desperate to find new land, and while he was indeed successful, he had completely lost his way and has no idea how to return home. The lie however, was that his home island had anything to do with fine garments.
On the contrary, they although mentally civil had lacked any intellectual integrity of the cloth. Presently, the only thing that helps Quin not break down into depression of his home is the exquisite beauty of these foreign lands embroidery.
If he looks like he is dressing to impress a noble rather than a damned gaggle of brutes than so be it; perfect even! For it is those of nobility who have the most access to fine clothes and detailed embroidery, laced with real gold.
Getting the chance to catch their eye, work they way up the ranks and have access to finer materials and patterns they’d surely help the memories of home sting far less.
But…deep in Quin’s heart he does not realize that apart of his fascination comes from a secret desire…for his lover back home to someday wear the fantastical white and gold embroidered dresses of these lands. How beautiful she would wear them…finer than this lands Queen. Any hint of these thoughts, triggers moisture to pent up in Quin’s eye. So he shakes his head, grounds his feet and accepts that without progress- it’s just a fantasy.
"Earth to friggin' Quin" Dunbar draws him back to reality.
"Sorry, sir." Quin awkwardly bows down and takes leave- unintentionally leaving Dunbar skeptical of Quins honesty and priorities.
Always ping me please. 
