I wasn't born in the Borderlands.
Starting from the western part of the continent, I simply traveled the world, hoping to find a purpose in life.
In my earliest memories, I was a slave. But I was lucky. On the way to the city where I should've been sold, a group of bandits attacked the caravan.
Just like that, I was free.
Perhaps out of pity, the bandit leader took the young me in. Little did I know that I was wrong.
Bringing me was not out of mercy. He simply wanted entertainment for him and his men.
From then on, I was subjected to torture, humiliation, and all sorts of cruelty that no child should have to endure.
They would beat me whenever they were in a bad mood, force me to perform ridiculous tasks, and laugh whenever I failed to meet their expectations.
Sometimes, they would leave me tied to a tree overnight, just to see if I could survive the cold. At other times, they would throw me into a pit and make me fight against wild animals for their amusement.
