Faber

Faber looked at the raw world and saw not what it was, but what it could

become. Where others saw stone, he saw a blade. Where others saw wood, he

saw a bridge. Where others saw fire, he saw a forge. He is the force of

transformation — not creation from nothing, but the reshaping of what already

exists into something with intent. Faber does not dream. He builds. His hands

are never still, his mind never idle. Every tool that has ever been lifted,

every wall that has ever been raised, every weapon that has ever been drawn

carries a fragment of his will: the belief that the world is not finished,

that it can always be made better, sharper, stronger. He asks nothing of the

world except raw material and time. Give him both, and he will build something

that lasts.