The runt

Akabwar the halfling's past is a twisted tale. A runt in a litter much too large to share attention of the parental's. Despite the obvious lack of care though, he survived infancy and the same with most of his siblings. (Unfortunately for him) Life was a battle at the hovel, fighting for a tit, fighting for a bowl, fighting for a place to sleep. When adolescence hit, Akabwar had the gross misfortune of a case of werewolfism. An abundance of hair growth and rapid. This caused more ridicule from... Well everyone who wasn't already after the runt. He became reclusive and began working on his braids. Over time he would work his hair into a proverbial suit of armor. Working his facial hair into a Auburn mask and his body hair interweaved through his body. Once his face was completely covered no one ever seen it again. Driven to a life of solitude he began to steal and pillage for survival. Not because he wanted to, but out of necessity. Who would want to hire a freak like Akabwar? Not yet a man, He attempted to break into a rather lavish house in Seringale, unbeknownst of its inhabitants, deeply a slumber inside. A trained office of Justice of all people. Before he even knew what was happening a firm hand held him hands and feet above the ground by the scruff of his neck. Realising not only was he holding a child, he was holding a halfling child, hardly the equivalent of a doll in his man sized hand. Do you have no family to take care of you child, his voice echoing through the empty house? Shaking and clearly distraught he wiggles in response. Words not coming to his lips. The gods are smiling upon us both little one, I am in need of a new apprentice, you were drawn here for a reason. You can leave out the front door and seek a future that will undoubtedly end in the gallows, or you can take my offer and make a better life for yourself.