A creature that knows nothing but battle and loneliness since he can remember
Kidnapped when he was barely a youth, Dakren knows little more than fighting. Raised in captivity, his human captors broke him down over time. Listening to their words of “you can’t do that,” “without a human helping you, you are a good as dead anywhere else,” and “listen to us, that way you can avoid getting hurt.” Quiet and domestic for the majority of days, Dakren can be coerced to fight for those he likes. However, the old world hatred lingers in his soul and emerges when a magic user tries to hurt himself or his companion. In arena combat, only two wizards have tried to kill him for prestige. One was pounded into the sand until he was nothing more than dried blood seeping downward. The other was hurled into the audience and broke his neck on landing.
As time went on Dakren grew lonely, he killed most of the people he knew in the arena after all. He grew attached to one of his guards near his cell, a man named Garret. A year went by, mkore combatants died at Dakren’s hand, but Garret remained there, helping him, feeding him, treating his wounds. At some point in this bond, Dakren started listening only to Garret, no more would he obey the whip holders or the swordsmen. No longer did he fight, not unless Garret was there with him. When Garret was threatened was when the scariest part of Dakren visible, a relentless machine of terror that eliminated anything that neared his friend when they were subjected to a partnered free for all. Dakren spent four years of his life like this, seemingly content. Soon after his sixteenth birthday, however, Garret was transferred, leaving Dakren alone and lonesome.