Wyn, the Changeling Bard (School of Eloquence)

From a young age, Wyn loved taking the upper hand when it came to the arguments he had with his siblings. He would frequently change forms to whoever his siblings trusted enough and mimic their personality down to a T, all to find something juicy that he could pull out during a fight.

Sure, it may have been morally gray, but his arguing was like an art to him, and his canvas had to be as extravagant as he could make it. He wouldn't accept mediocrity from himself.

So, when his exhausted mother referred him to a battle rapping contest being held in his town, he was absolutely over the moon. He signed up for it, the ink staining his almost white hand, with all the same recklessness that led him throughout life.

Sure, his rhymes were shitty, but he'd be able to polish them with enough time. And sure, he wouldn't have the time or energy to scoop out info about his opponents like he often did, but he'd learn to improv well enough that it seemed like he did.

As the Day of Reckoning (as he called it) inched closer and closer, he spent more and more hours practicing his rhymes, studying his insults, trying to predict his opponents. It was tiring work, but it was worth it to him.

So, when the Day arrived at long last, Wyn came prepared with his same reckless attitude, a brand new clean outfit, and insults that could make the most stoic man cry laughing. Sure, he was about as nervous as a dog visiting the vet for the first time, but he was determined to make all those years of training worth it.

And by some stroke of fate, he won! The opponent stood no chance to him, and they ended up literally sobbing on the stage floor. That single vision inspired him to keep competing more and more, to climb higher and higher until he reached where he deserved to be: the very top.

Somewhere along the way, however, everything went wrong. One of the venues he was competing in collapsed mid-performance, and he barely made it out alive. He lost track of his family (who had been cheering him on), and to this day, it's up in the air as to whether they're alive too.

In the chaos of the wreckage, he ended up with a party of adventurers who seemed to need a force of intimidation and chaos to round off their sweetness. It was like there was a him-shaped hole in their group.

While he hesitated to join them, he soon realized that he had nowhere else to go. After all, he didn't know the way home from here, and he didn't even know if it'd be worth it returning home in the first place.

And so, he shunned his old name, instead naming himself after his favorite activity; to win.