Common born, but no less proud for it, Bengt was no stranger to trouble growing up. Like many a young dwarf, he fancied himself a brawler. And while he was never the biggest or thickest dwarf, he was quick footed and keen eyed. Eventually, he grew out of brawling, and decided to take up ranging in the deep roads. Searching for lost mining parties, helping map out new tunnels. Some would even say he became a respectable member of dwarven society, with some renown amongst his fellow Ironborn as a crackshot with a crossbow.

A lot of the changed after the battle of Belgrath. Bengt had survived, but the man he used to be died, down in the tunnels fighting the giant's hordes. He fell into a bad place. Racked up too much debt, and took to thievery to try and make up for it. Didn't work out too well. He was given a choice by the old Forkbeard. Join him for one last hurrah down the mines, or rot in prison. Well, the mines, they were a callin.