Arkoz Uberknurg was born into a long line of gladiatorial warriors. Great battles were seen by the rich and poor alike - shows of strength and will united all people in his home. Arkoz’s family consistently produced great fighters who rose through the ranks and claimed the champion’s title due to their vicious mantra: Only the strong survive. Arkoz was brought up in constant competition, never to let his guard down. To do so was to risk showing weakness, to be banished. Arkoz trained as hard as his ancestors before him, showing the great promise that his family had come to expect. When he entered the ring, he fought like no other, calling upon his family bonds for strength. Everyone who had come before had been strong enough to survive and make him who he was - he was the product of generations of strife, the dwarf built to defeat all. Pushed forward by his lineage, he claimed battle after battle in the name of the Uberknurg legacy - the victories became a drug. Each win fueled his ancestral rage, and fear of his brutal strikes soon spread far and wide throughout the city. Come the day of the championship, though, he finally snapped. He lost all control, beating his unfortunate foe to a bloody pulp - the fury of his ancestors seemed to exert a force that stopped anyone from breaking his laser-focused rage. When he finally came down, his enemy no longer recognizable, he did not hear the roar of applause that he deserved. The stands were silent, even his family in shock.

    No matter the passion, nothing excused mindless, senseless, violence. Murder was not the purpose of the battles. Banished from his realm, Arkoz felt no remorse. The ones who shunned him couldn’t begin to understand the rage he felt in combat. They were weak. Arkoz struck out on his own, with nothing but the shirt on his back and the spiritual force of his ancestors’ teachings. Their weakness would not be tolerated. No one’s would.