My mother and father were on the boats that arrived at Athera. They hadnt met until later. My father was a brawler and my mother was a saint, she tamed him. He used to get his kicks from breaking a jaw but after time my mother showed him his core and he became a builder for the Norlanders. “an honest days work is a good nights rest.” he would tell me. I remember as a young child the Illician attacks. It made me angry. He never got angry though, and as much as those people tore down he would build back and then some.
Then he died. To an Illician sword, and I saw those evil men kill my mother too. They beat me but didnt take my life, and I hated them for leaving me alive. I got away from the village that night. Three years later I joined the Covenant and I searched and searched for blood. I was so angry. I needed to kill the memory of them away. I stayed with the Covenant until they disbanded and I joined to fight the orcs and dwarves. In a battle that was poorly directed me and 33 of my fellow soldiers were captured and held. I once again saw my family be murdered in front of me, and once again I cursed the dogs who forced me to live. I dont know why I was still alive, but soon after found myself in a dwarven pit mining ore for the people who had allied against my Norland blood.
I met a dwarf there who was fair. He took pity on me and many years into my servitude came by my cell and unlocked the door without a word, slid some parchment through the bars that read, “an honest days work is a good life spent.”
I escaped, wandered for awhile, realizing that in my slavery I had found redemption. My bloodlust was gone and only a desire to build good things remained. The memory of my father compels me and the memory of that nameless dwarvish friend had enabled me to live another life free from blood and hatred.
My name is Mason Ganger and i’m a builder looking for a home for good.
