My father always wanted me to be a warrior, Even though I never wanted to be. He would sign me up for fights in ‘The Pit’. I won mostly, But hated it. At the age of 20 I left home to get away from my father. What I didn't know is how harsh the wild is. I left to avoid fighting but in the wild, I had to fight daily. I always Fight to the best of my ability even in uneven fights. After a fight I tend to take the teeth of enemies alive or dead as a token of victory. 7 years later I returned home. Beaten, scars now cover my body. I begin to look for my father, I want to impress him with all the teeth I collected. Lets just say he wanted nothing to do with me, So i left again. 20 years later Im still roaming the world. At age 49 I started drinking to numb the pain of loneliness.
