Braum was once the Trusted Root of the Aethelgard Grove, a silent sentinel tasked with guarding the Great Oak that sustained his clan. But while his kin saw a sacred entity, Braum saw board-feet of prime timber and untapped capital. When the logging syndicates of the southern coast offered a sum that would make a king blush, Braum didn't hesitate; he drew a map, collected his gold, and slipped into the night as the first saws bit into bark. The screams of his people were drowned out by the sound of waves as he fled to the only place vast enough to hide a man of his size: the open sea.
Since his exile, Braum has reinvented himself as a maritime tycoon of the black market. He traded his bark-cloth for the finest violet silks and a captain’s commission earned through mutiny and meticulous accounting. He views the natural world not as a mother to be protected, but as a warehouse to be liquidated. His magic, once used to heal the forest, has curdled into a 'Salt-Rot'—a fungal decay that smells of brine and stagnant bilgewater, mirroring the corruption of his own soul.