Raised in Riddleport, Mahr had a decent childhood, but upon reaching his mid teens he hit a rough patch and rebelled, as so many adolescents do. Falling in with a bad crowd and getting involved in a botched robbery ended this peaceful chapter of his life, and he ended up penniless and on the run.
Working wherever he could, he spent the next few years drifting slowly south, sometimes sedately as part of a caravan, sometimes frantically grappling with a horse.
Eventually, his travels ended up leading him to Port Peril. Exhausted, he dragged himself into the first pub he came across and got halfway through ordering a drink before collapsing, snoring loudly.
