Physical Description: David stands 5'10" and weighs roughly 206 pounds. Not exactly a tall, strapping man, David is relatively average-sized; with an athletic build that has clearly seen the wrong end of age, a minor pot belly and muscles that have given way to flab in places. His normally dark brown hair is peppered with grey in places, especially around the sides of his head, and is kept short and neat as is appropriate for his job. Along with this, he maintains a neat, if light, beard, the hair also brown and grey with his age. His eyes are brown and his features are slightly wrinkled from age and experience, crows feet at the corners of his eyes and wrinkles over his forehead. His normally rather pale skin is almost permanently tan from all his time spent under the hot, blazing sun, taking photos of wild animals, marathons and sports events. He has tan lines in the form of his watch on his right wrist and on his shoulders from the short-sleeved shirts he would wear to such events. A scar exists on David's face, a small one that crosses the bridge of his nose.

His normal clothing style is simple and rugged; David likes to wear either a brown leather jacket or a short-sleeved, collared shirt, with a white tank top underneath. The man only has a few pairs of jeans, mostly blue, and as such all of them display rugged wear across the knees and rims of the legs that are all part of the years and years of use. David normally wears a pair of leather loafers to work or out to relax, and a pair of brown hiking shoes if he's going out for a long walk in the park or going out of town. David also has several items that are considered part of his 'signature' look; a gun-metal grey diving watch purchased as a thirtieth birthday gift, that always sits on his right wrist. A black DSLR that almost always hangs from his neck. A weathered brown leather biker jacket with a small icon of a film camera stitched onto the left breast.

Age: 48

Relationship with Hildon: Tourist and visitor.

Occupation: Professional photographer.

Useful Supplies:

• Cold weather clothing; David always has at least a thick jacket with him, woollen gloves and thick pants.
• Satchel bag; enough to fit his camera, laptop, journal and some writing implements.
• Canon DSLR Camera; his pride and joy and his main weapon in his quest to capture nature's beauty.
• Frost-proof, waterproof, pressure-resistant wristwatch; a gift on his thirtieth birthday.
• Survival Swiss Army Knife; comes with as many tools as he has loose change in his pocket.

Backstory:
David was born and raised in Boston, Massachusetts, going to school there, attending yearly festivals and growing up alongside a small, close group of friends that stuck with him all through grade school. High school split up their little clique but they almost always met after class was over for the day, drinking milkshakes and playing tag. He took an early interest in documenting the escapades of him and his friends, at first through the media of drawing, but when that failed him, his father suggested the next best thing: a camera. His dad, a photographer by hobby, had an old film camera in his closet that he let his son borrow when he was old enough. All through his teens, David took photos of his adventures, developing the pictures and even scribbling little blurbs about what he and his friends had done that day, like cycling up to the city limits and back, or watching a sunset in the park.

When he graduated, David took his scrapbook of photos and, for a time, sold his services as a freelance photographer. In his neighbourhood, business was brisk; weddings, special occasions, anniversaries and festivals were part and parcel of his life for roughly two years. It was then that a smaller magazine took notice and sent him a letter asking if he would like to be employed at their office as one of their photographers. He readily agreed and began work for the zine, helping the small company to cover every little event that went on in the city. In between reports and work, David took time out of his schedule to submit some of his better pictures to national competitions, calendars and photography magazines. Most of his work wasn't up to par, but he earned himself several honourable mentions and smaller spots in minor photography magazines.

A few years passed in a flash. By then, David had built himself a rep, both within his neighbourhood and around the city at large, as a budding young photographer with promising work, an eye for detail and a heart for telling stories. He had gone from being merely a photographer to a full-blown photojournalist, having a small column to himself about his 'Photo of the Week', where he showcased his best photograph he'd taken that week and wrote a few paragraphs about how and where he'd taken it, among other things. David was a familiar face around town, so it came as a surprise when he told his boss that he was going to leave for a few months. When prodded as to why, he told him that he had accepted a brief overseas contract; to help further his reputation and to provide him with an opportunity, a humanitarian magazine based in New York City had offered to send him with a UN aid convoy in Mogadishu, attaching him there over the course of three months to both help out and to take photos of them. It was an opportunity he couldn't pass up, and later that year, David left his quiet home in Boston.

It would turn out to be the lowest point of his life. In those three months, he would take photos of some of the worst human suffering he'd ever seen, in the worst conditions. Helpless to do anything except work and watch, David fell to drugs to help himself cope. It didn't help that they were in a rough part of the world, feeding his addiction until his contract was up and he returned to Boston a changed man. Those around him saw the change; a gaunt, almost phantasmal image of his former self. He submitted himself for rehab and went clean, but the process took months, if not years, to return David to a semblance of the way he was before. He'd left his job in the interim and found some solace in taking photographs of nature and wildlife, and so he committed himself to that art to keep himself on the straight and narrow.

And so David Sawyer went from investigative photojournalist to plain photographer. Resting on his old laurels and using his old talents, but not for anything else other than his own personal portfolio and a little blog he maintains, his ongoing journey to catalogue America's hidden gems took him to Hildon.

Physical Description: At 157cm and 55kg with long, wavy black hair, Hanako Kurosawa would be entirely unremarkable were it not for her disposition and manner of dress. She wears a slightly oversized leather jacket with her band’s name and logo emblazoned on the front in white. Underneath are myriad tattoos acquired before her band’s breakup, and minor scars and burns from time spent working odd jobs before the band.
Age: 25

Relationship with Hildon: Almost none. Hanako has followed the trail of breadcrumbs about the whereabouts of her father to the town - and run out of leads. She has remained within the town for some time, trying to track down someone, anyone who can put her back on his tail.

Occupation: Unemployed. Formerly lead vocalist and additional guitarist of the underground metal band Flaming Hot Death Cocks until the band’s breakup, continued solo for a time.

Useful Supplies:

• Glock 20, plenty of spare ammunition
• 1000 Lumen tactical flashlight with swappable batteries.
• Stockpile of non-perishable foods within her van.
• A large military surplus backpack and thick warm clothes.

Less-Useful Supplies:

• Bass guitar and equipment.
• Personal massager
• A spare leather jacket.
• A small collection of American liquors.
• A pair of aviator sunglasses.
• A laptop with thousands of hours of music.

Backstory: Hanako Kurosawa was born in 1984 in Osaka, Japan. Her mother, Fumiko Kurosawa, was a student in her final year of college, and her father an unknown American tourist, whose name her mother never knew. Hanako never asked, nor received, specific details beyond that her ‘father’ had sabotaged the condom, before disappearing the next day. Barred from getting an abortion by strict, conservatively minded parents, Fumiko did her best to conceal the pregnancy and child, but struggled to make ends meet as a single parent. She found finding meaningful employment difficult, despite her excellent grades and promising performance. As a result, young Hanako grew up in difficult circumstances. Her grades were poor, and her attitude even worse. Her mother tried to love her, and did the best she could for her daughter, but the bond between parent and child never truly blossomed.

Hanako failed entrance exams to college, to the surprise of almost nobody and the disgust of her grandparents. She quickly fell into bad habits, working in porn on the weekends and underpaid, shitty jobs during the week - until her lucky break.

Hanako had always held a fascination with music, and had taught herself to play the guitar. At 21 years old, she was contacted by an old friend with a proposition to form a metal band. The going was slow at first, but though they never found widespread mainstream appeal they succeeded in attaining moderate success that allowed Hanako to finally live in a proper apartment, and begin saving up money. She thrived during this time, screaming her heart out into a microphone in nightclubs and minor venues to cheering crowds. Her lyrics became well known among fans, and her antics onstage even moreso. She became notorious for her anti-establishment, anti-authority views, and they influenced her work. Life, however, was going swimmingly, even through the recession, until the band’s breakup in 2008. Creative differences, coupled with poorly timed arguments and disagreements, lead to each of the band members going their separate ways. The others found employment in other bands, or in steady non-musical work, while Hanako tried and failed to recruit new talent to the band.

She continued on as a solo performance, until a fan who had remembered her life story accosted her one night in July of 2008. He pressed a handful of photographs into her hand, insisting that he was her half brother. He claimed that her father had married and lived life happily for a few years after returning to the US, but had openly bragged to his son about his ‘escapades’ in Japan, including names. After much research online, the man had become convinced of their relation - confirmed when she showed the photographs to her mother. His father, however, had recently abandoned the family and seemingly vanished into thin air.

Hanako immediately set off for the US, expecting to find the man relatively quickly. Ethan Mills was his name.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Hanako had purchased a used van and retrofitted it for her purposes, living out of it and occasionally performing in local nightclubs for spare cash and to take her mind off things. She didn’t know what she was going to do when she found him - attack him? Beat him to a pulp? Ask him why?

She traveled all across the United States trying to find the man. At one point finding herself at a gun range in Ohio, adrenaline pumping in her veins, purchasing her first handgun and ammunition - something completely inconceivable only a year prior, and made a point to practice with it whenever possible. She drifted aimlessly for some months, cushioned by a generous savings account from the success of Flaming Hot Death Cocks. The trail of clues seemed to have run dry - until in April, she found a lead once more that lead to the small town of Hildon, New Hampshire. Expecting… something, it seemed promising at first - but beyond a small smattering of information indeed confirming he had lived there for some months, there was nothing. She lingered in the town for some time, insistent that there must be more to it.

Physical Description: Miriam is light-skinned, about 5'4" tall, and weighs 120 lbs. Her hair runs down her back in an elegant brown curtain, and her eyes are hazel in tone. Her usual clothing includes fairly decorative shirts, stretchy jeans, and most of the time a thick puffy pink coat, especially with the decreasing temperature of the town.

Age: 23

Relationship with Hildon: Miriam is an out-of-towner, somebody who heard about Hildon's quiet, unassuming atmosphere, and visited the town to gain inspiration for her next book, for she is...

Occupation: A writer! More specifically, she is a semi-professional novellist with the one book under her belt to date: Holding Down the Light, an adventure novel about a woman gathering allies from across the lands to deal with a great threat, and in turn making those allies into unexpected friends. She hopes Hildon will help her gather more insight into small-town life, and thus grant an idea of how to base a tale within the borders of a similar town in her writing.

Useful Supplies: -Pepper spray, for self-defense
-Bersa Thunder 380CC, a concealed carry pistol with a magazine loaded and one spare, for when the pepper spray doesn't work or is simply unavailable
-Big puffy pink coat, kind of a personal effect she enjoys, but perhaps the only thing keeping her from freezing in current temperatures

Backstory: Miriam's life has been fairly plain - no overly-destructive family members or anything, but born in an area with a lot of interesting stories to tell. Her home city of San Francisco was highly multi-cultural, especially for the United States, and simply by looking around, one could find all sorts of people to talk with about all kinds of things! One of her favourite people was a homeless man named Joshua, who had tried and failed to write several books, falling on hard times until he was living under bridges. A tragedy, but Miriam made firm friends with him as a teenage girl, and with her help over many years managed to get him back into an apartment and back into writing, be it for himself or for an audience.

This proved something to her: anyone could succeed with the right support, and anyone could be brought back to their feet in the same way. Inspired to become a writer, both by her experiences with the populace and by Joshua's tale specifically, she authored her first book at 22, an adventure novel called Holding Down the Light, to reasonable enough success. Seeking further inspiration, she has come to the small town of Hildon to see what might inspire her next... the inspiration in question is probably not the sort she was expecting, however.

Physical Description: Hattie seems like a lot of woman in a small package. No more than 5'5", lean and lively, with skin that has refused to wrinkle but learned to crease. Her expression makes it clear that she has had enough nonsense for one lifetime. Her hair was fly-away black, now with some fly-away grey. It flutters everywhere as she moves around purposefully, never still for long.

Age: 62

Relationship with Hildon: Hattie was born and raised in Hildon, daughter of a long-haul truck driver and a long-suffering mother. She went to college to become a nurse but ended up with an MRS degree, married to a doctor. She moved down south, down to the big city, and worked as a nurse and a wife. She turned out to be better at the first than the second.

No one in Hildon is sure what happened, but one day Hattie came back. She was using her birth name instead of her married name and she had a strip of pale skin around her ring finger. She also must have had a wicked divorce settlement, because she bought the house she grew up in, renovated it and installed a kennel. She owns the surrounding bit of woods and keeps to herself.

Now she's something of a recluse. She's technically retired, but constitutionally incapable of relaxing. She volunteers at the Haggarty Clinic during the peak season. She breeds hunting dogs, harvests maple trees on her property, and sews clothing out of deerskin to sell on Etsy. She buys tanned deerskins from the reservation and has a cordial relationship with several members.

Occupation: Hattie is a nurse. She's a bit out of practice but she can still handle first aid and she keeps all her certifications up-to-date. Most of her money seems to come from her ex-husband; either from a divorce settlement or blackmail, the rumors disagree. She makes a bit through her hobbies, but most of that gets funneled into new hobbies.

Useful Supplies:

Dogs. She has just sold off her latest litter of pups, so she only has four full-grown Brittanys. Good all-around bird dogs.

Snowshoes, poles and other snowgear for harvesting maple sap.

Basic medical supplies

Backstory: Hattie lived in Hildon until she was 19, moved away, and moved back when she was 50. She was a nurse in a big city hospital for 20 years and saw some serious crap in her time. She soldiered through a marriage with an unfaithful husband for an equal amount of time before finally decided to quit both. Her father died in a truck roll-over. Hattie moved her mother into a retirement home near the city until she died as well.