Mr. GanjaMan

Name: Mr. GanjaMan
Age: 100
Race: Dragonborn
Class: Druid
Primal Order: Warden

Long before anyone called him Mr. GanjaMan, he had no name at all.

Among his dragonborn pack, he was known only as a monster—a creature born with overwhelming rage. Violence was all he understood. Every challenge was answered with bloodshed, every disagreement with broken bones. His own kin feared him more than they respected him.

At the age of twenty, he abandoned his pack. Whether he left by choice or was driven away no longer mattered. He believed that if he remained, he would eventually slaughter every dragonborn he had ever known.

For the next seventy years, he wandered the world alone.

He became an apex predator, carving his own territory through mountains, forests, and deserts. Entire bands of monsters vanished after crossing his path. Mercenaries hunted him for glory and never returned. Even those who offered friendship often became victims of his uncontrollable fury. Every battle only fed the fire inside him.

Yet every victory left him emptier.

The loneliness became unbearable. The rage that once made him feel powerful slowly became a prison. He hated what he had become. More than once, he tried to end his own life by igniting the flames within his body, hoping his own fire would consume him from the inside.

It never worked.

One day, exhausted, starving, and ready to accept death, he stumbled upon an unfamiliar green plant growing deep within an untouched valley.

Without thinking, he ate it.

Moments later, the world changed.

His breathing slowed.

His heart calmed.

The endless storm of anger inside his mind simply... stopped.