BruteCN Feral Dragonborn Warforged Barbarian/Totemist
Personality: In a word: Furious. Brute is much smarter than most people give him credit for, but his most notable trait is his boundless rage, granted by the spirit of an ancient dragon. Most who speculate upon this believe it must be the spirit of a Fang dragon, for no other dragon has quite the same feral intensity and ferocity.
The crowds, however, don't care. They care only to see him unleashed on each new challenge, to see just what this living blender's breaking point is. Will it blend? Most definitely.
Description: Brute is a sight to behold. At 6'8, he (or it?) is taller than most humans, and if he bore normal flesh he might be confused for a half-giant or goliath. However, he is a strange creature, seemingly made of metal as though he were a living statue, intricately engraved with a pattern of scales. His face is also vaguely draconic... on most days that is. The strangest thing about him is that he seems to be a receptacle for the spirits of magical beasts, which regularly and radically alter his appearance. Most commonly, he appears with not two, but four massive, apparently muscular arms, each ending with three powerful, clawed fingers. Strangely enough, his upper torso and the upper portion of these arms appear to have grown a coat of thick, white fur. He also possesses a pair of wings jutting from his back, which seem to have been damaged and bound by his Drow captors.
Background: Brute was once little more than a statue slowly eroding among the ruins of an ancient temple, deep in the jungle. As luck would have it, these ruins had once been devoted to worship of a dragon which had lived nearby, and for centuries the people of the temple would bring regular tribute to appease the beast, which was known to have a furious temperament. Eventually, the dragon died, and the civilization that built up to keep it in check dissolved, having no remaining purpose. The dragon's existence passed into legend, with few remembering that such a creature had ever terrorized the region. Some men are resourceful, however, and one day there arrived a wizard and his assistant, hoping to perform a ritual that would draw out the vestigial spirit of the dragon and take that power for himself. The ritual was a success, partially; performed before a great, if eroding statue, the spirit summoned to those ruins, but utterly destroyed the wizard who had not been prepared for the tremendous fury of the dragon's spirit. The wizard's assistant did not have the wizard's power, let alone enough to complete the ritual as intended, and so had little choice but to attempt to reverse it. He managed to bind the dragon's spirit into the statue, hoping to seal it away where it could do no harm. Oh, how naive the young assistant was!
The dragon's spirit gave life to the statue, infusing it with a soul and supernatural power. The statue did not have any memories from before the moment it was 'born', though it had some residual identity and knowledge gained from the dragon. He could speak the language of dragons, and could understand the words the small human was uttering. "Oh gods, forgive me! I did not intend to create this brute!"
The statue possessed a seething rage within him, and could hardly control his actions. He went on a rampage, breaking stone and bone alike. Standing over the broken body of the wizard's assistant, his rage subsided (even if it remained boiling just at the edge).
"
Brute..." he repeated. "
That will do."
Brute wandered the jungle, as well as other regions. He found that whatever had been done to him, he possessed an affinity for beasts both magical and mundane, and could summon forth residual spiritual energy from those creatures to gain some of their abilities. The mighty Girallon was simply just the first of such creatures. Of course, this did not prepare him for the cunning of the party of Drow hunters which used weapons and magic to finally subdue him. He awoke in heavy chains, locking him down to subvert his mighty rage. He would wait, as something within Brute decided, for to escape this new type of opponent would take a different approach. Still, his rage burned just below the surface.
