Editing Campaign:SUNSHINE AND DECAY/Gandr Jormen (section)

=== Background ===
Gandr Jormen was born in the Eastlands around the forests of the Ten Tribes, growing up as one son of many to a craftsman. In a large flock of children to a strong craftsman, both the praise and the work was shared more or less equally by all in the house.<br/>
<br/>
Living in the deep East forests isn't easy. All manner of beasts (and worse) stalk the sun-starved dark ends of it, and in order to survive, a tribe must work together; all must pull their load and, on occasion, more. Gandr grew up with this, and to him, survival is always a group effort, the chain only being as strong as its weakest link. When he was still a mortal, he was stronger and more enduring than most of his kin; he often took on some of the burdens that the others could not carry when it became necessary. While he has left his tribe to see the world through the burning lens of the eternal sun, he still considers helping others with what they cannot achieve themselves to be important; not because it is the right thing to do, but because it is simply ''necessary'': doubly so now that his chains are the light of the sun.<br/>
<br/>
On the other hand, his drive to help the weak inspires frothing, no-holds-barred rage in him if those who have strength prey on those who do not. He holds no love for anyone who bullies or terrorizes those who are already downtrodden; picking on those who can stand up to it isn't a problem (you can take it, you're a big boy), but deathlords help you if you're poking a dying man with a stick, or worse.<br/>
<br/>
It gets a little funky, though: Gandr is a big fan of action and reaction. He does his level best to help those who are too weak to help themselves, but on the other hand, Gandr has absolutely no patience for dimwits; being too stupid to realize that you're not a match for the Mask of Winters doesn't make you ''weak'', it makes you mind-bogglingly, blatheringly ''stupid''<br/>
<br/>
And then there's the Fair folk.<br/>
<br/>
The Fair Folk are everywhere; much like spirits are held to be responsible for everything in Creation running smoothly, to Gandr, the Folk are responsible for everything going downright ''wrong'' in Creation. To Gandr, everything that's bad, stupid, wrong or just plain and simple fucked up is, ultimately, the fault of the Fair Folk and he does not hesitate to blame them at every turn. It pisses Gandr off to no end how they just waltz into Creation, smash apart cities - buildings, homes, lives - and pick up the straggling survivors to use them as fucking ''snacks''.<br/>
<br/>
And now he has the strength and mandate to do something about that, as well. For now, he's content to gather his abilities and form links for a stronger chain, but there's no doubt in his heart: his fate lies in the blood of the Fair Folk.<br/>
<br/>
Though, sometimes ... he lies awake at night, wondering. He is entirely in the service of Sun unconquered, and he is glad to serve as the hardened and bladed weight at the end of the long and glorious chain of the sun, but he wonders, still, if that's all he'll ever be called upon to serve as. His father was a craftsman, whose skill helped the tribe rise above merely ''surviving'' the rigors of the world; will Gandr be able to do the same ?<br/>