New Year, New Me – Day 14

Gorag – Goliath Battlemaster Fighter – Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition

I’ve been told that most of the people who fight like me were trained differently, more structured and disciplined. If that’s the case, then I’m extra thankful to my mentor. I was orphaned when I was quite young, and because of my size I was attractive to various organizations. Eventually I was taken in by a group of slavers and sold to a gladiator circuit. There an elderly fighter named Emki took a shine to me and kept me safe while teaching me how to fight. I wasn’t trusted with any weapons yet, so he taught me how to fight using my body as a weapon. My fists cracked and bled constantly, but they were reforged into granite under his tutelage. I used the skills he taught me to keep myself alive in the ring when they finally decided that I was worth putting into a game. I continued to fight for my life for years. Eventually I won it. 

It was a cruel twist of fate. I was forced to face down my mentor with the promise that the survivor would win their freedom. I’m proud to say that Emki did not make it easy on me, but my strength eventually overcame his patient defenses, and I tearfully bid the man that had become a father to me before I broke his neck with my bare hands.

So now I’m free. But the funny thing about being raised as a fighter is that it becomes the only thing you’re good at. It becomes the only thing that you crave. Luckily over the years I’ve managed to focus some of my energy into other pursuits, applying the same focus and determination to it that Emki taught me in regards to fighting. But I’ve earned my way in the world by selling the one thing that was ever worth anything to anyone – my size, and my fists.