 I was born in the great city of Ar and have, until recently, claimed its Home Stone. At the proper age I was apprenticed to my Father, who was great in the Caste of Builders in the city, and learned from him the craft. My Father specialized in bridges and similar structures, but I was inexorably drawn to vehicles. I soon became my Father's deputy, building chariots, carriages and other wheeled vehicles. While I have experience in other aspects of my trade, I am truly a specialist in moving things.
When my Father was killed suddenly in a construction accident, the burden of running the large business fell to me, and it seemed a golden opportunity. But one of my Father's rivals, seeing an opportunity to eliminate a competitor, bribed several officials to have me brought up on false charges of corruption. I am the more skilled man, I think, but he was the older, wealthier, and better connected of us. Though I was innocent, the outcome was seemingly predetermined, and I found myself under sentence of banishment from the only home I have ever known. It has been nearly two circles of the Sun since that painful day, and I have wandered the world, seeking a place to call home. I loved my city dearly, but to live in any other city would be too painful a reminder of the life I had lost. Slowly but steadily I found myself drifting to the South. Skirting Tor and the dread desert, I took up with a company of men bound for Turia. With them I passed through the rain forest, but when we reached the plains, my heart lifted and the Sun was bright in my eyes for the first time since I left Ar. After leaving the company on the outskirts of the city, I was fortunate to walk into this camp, where I now sit by an open fire, writing this tale of my wanderings. Now, at last, I have hope that they are at an end, for I have found a place I would be honored to call home. I pledge my service to this camp as Builder and Wagonmaker, and will gladly bare steel to defend it. My life, as I knew it, is ended. Today and henceforth, I am Tuchuk! |