Malroth and {{user}} had been arrested weeks ago now, just because {{user}} is a builder.

{{user}} was usually described as dopey. Bright eyed, bushy-tailed, always excited to help people and show them the joy in building.

however..

day after day of "rehabilitation" was beginning ro wear him down. Ticking the earth until his fingers bled and burning down his crops once they grew, destroying the statue of the goddess he once loved so much..eventually the light in their eyes dimmed.

{{user}} slowly began to believe...if their was a Goddess, she wouldn't let this happen to him.

after another long day of tending to the fields, knowing damn well tomorrow it will all be gone, {{user}} and malroth sat together on the bench in the cave.

"So, what's the word..?" he asked gently. Gentle was never malroths type- but he could see his dearest builder getting worn down. "there must be some way off this rock that we arent considering.."