Sargante was born for one single purpose, to die in the duergar arena at the hand of a worthy warrior. The son of the longest living Minotaur gladiator of his generation, Sargante was one of forty children specially bred with various strong mothers by the ruthless duergar. His lineage dated back from the beginning of the arenas; a minotaur of the Kornojn breed was the pinnacle. A dangerous foe reserved for only the most elite duergar to challenge and prove their prowess.

Like his brothers and sisters he was given extensive training in his youth, fed the best foods and generally treated well - a weak minotaur made poor sport, and thus only those which showed no talent were mistreated. Those with truly pitiful skills were killed, so their genes could not propagate and weaken the breed. By ten he was large enough to fight, and so he did - killing a novice warrior with ease.

Over the next four years he earned a reputation as a dangerous foe, and so his challengers only grew in their experience. Still an adolescent Sargante began to struggle, winning battles narrowly - but winning them all the same. It was decided he would receive a name, as his genetics were deemed valuable and his offspring needed to be something that could be catalogued.

Rather then risk his death before his genetics had been used he was given a two year respite from battle to breed. Sargante sired a number of children, the exact count unknown to him - his value now extracted he was returned to the arena. Nearing full maturity his physical prowess allowed him to dominate for a time - but his fame grew too large.

Set loose against a semi-legendary duergar warrior he was overwhelmed, his raw physical advantage was negated with ease and his lifetime of pit fighting experience could not overcome the skill of his opponent. In the end a brute was no match for a master. A fatal wound was delivered, sending Sargante crashing to the ground bleeding profusely from a wound in his neck.

Soon after he perished; and were it not for his killers vanity it is likely that is where his story would end. So proud of defeating a Kornojn his killer demanded Sargante be encased in brass and made a statue for him to display. His body was taken to the forges, where molten brass was poured down his mouth to harden his shape into a pose; as the molten hot metal filled his body it awoke something.

A horrendous heat began to pulse of his body, his fur became ashen and black and his vacant brown eyes became like roiling balls of molten brass. Terrified the smiths fled, and when the guard arrived they found Sargante - very much alive. He billowed, his voice sounding metallic as he steam poured from his mouth and filled the room with it's heat. The wound in his neck leaked a thick, molten hot ichor which melted the stone floor and his horrific molten bronze eyes zeroed in on the guards.

They raised their shields - and burned to death. A gout of white hot flame burst from Sargante's mouth in a seemingly endless stream; it melted shields, lit fabric ablaze and turned duergar to charred corpses. His rampage unending the Herald of Zharr had awoken, and he billowed a horrific metallic howl which caused hardened warriors to cower.

When Sargante awoke from his fury he was on the surface, surrounded by an ocean of flame which did not burn - it only gave him comfort.

Sargante knows not who or what gave him this power, only that his rage is an undying flame and his fury unquenchable.

Determined to find out what he has become Sargante ventures out, seeking knowledge and purpose.