In the soot-choked annals of the Iron-Tooth warband, Grong was a 'reacher'—the first through the window to snatch what was most precious. His life shifted during the sacking of Oakhaven. Amidst the screams, Grong’s massive hand closed around a carved wooden horse. The sound of that toy splintering under his unconscious grip resonated with a sickening, hollow 'crack' that echoed deeper than any bone he had ever broken. In that moment of absolute silence amidst the chaos, Grong didn't see loot; he saw the irreparable nature of destruction. He realized that a lifetime of building could be undone by a second of cruelty.
He fled the warband that night, carrying only the splinters of the horse. Grong wandered into the Free City of Orizon and apprenticed himself to a blind glassblower, seeking the one trade where his terrifying strength was a liability. He learned to breathe life into sand, discovering that the heat of the furnace could temper his own boiling blood. Now, he operates 'The Vitreous Vault,' a shop so delicate that even a heavy footfall could bankrupt him. He has traded his morningstar for a blowpipe, and his war-cries for a soft, rhythmic breathing that keeps his hands from shaking when the 'civilized' world comes to mock the monster in the silk doublet.