Thruman was born into the subterranean perfection of the Iron-Grid Holds, where every corridor is a masterclass in ninety-degree angles. To him, the surface world was not a wonder, but a catastrophic structural failure. He views mountains as 'unprocessed rubble' and rivers as 'leaky plumbing.' While other Forge Clerics were content smithing blades for petty wars, Thruman saw a higher calling: the world itself was an unfinished anvil, and the God of the Unyielding Grid had left the job half-done. He took his vows not to protect life, but to protect the integrity of the horizontal plane.
His defining moment occurred during the Siege of Oakhaven. While orcs battered the gates, Thruman ignored the screams, instead spending three hours using his 'Artisan's Blessing' to perfectly level the town square's cobblestones because the uneven footing was 'distracting from the gravity of the situation.' The orcs eventually tripped over his perfectly flat surfaces, leading to an accidental victory. He was named Honorary Mayor for his bravery, a title he resigned from within twenty minutes because the town charter's margins were inconsistent. He now wanders the wilds, a lone surveyor against the madness of nature, seeking the 'True North' of the soul and the soil.