Oxsidi was born to an upper middle class family, the eldest son of a well-to-do shoe maker. Like looked like it was going to be smooth as suede, he had a fiance, his dad was going to set him up with his own shop, with a build in core list of customers, it even had a nice apartment upstairs and a decent backyard, with fruit trees and a garden plot. Plot it had it's own garderobe!
He had proven himself skilled with the hammer, and a reasonably hard worker. He was working his way up in the guild, yes life was looking sweet...

Then Bloody Hand's army showed up. The siege was bad enough, he hadn't imagined the horrors when the city fell. Pillage and murder, fire and... well, let us just say worse.

He had survived though, and now trailed along behind the army. His skill set kept him busy, far busier than he had ever hoped to be. Forget what the darn cooks tell you, an army marches on it's feet. Feet he helped shod.

He had his tool kit, but not much more. He hadn't seen anyone he had known in his prior life, he had no clue who lived or died, aside from himself. But he found under his soft exterior, a hard core that wanted to survive. More than he had thought he did. It was an odd feeling, and one he didn't quite understand, but it kept him moving...