The mother... Fleeing slavery from Cerak At'Thul... What use was there in continuing to run if they are just one step behind? Her son, the offspring of a giant powerful being called a Titan who came to her in disguise. The old hag medicine woman gave her a potted plant that could grant wishes, but could this plant really work? Her child was all she cared for and would die before she allowed him to be raised in slavery. All she was told to do was make her wishes in the presence of the plant and let it work, too many wishes will cause it to whither, but tears of love will revive it again. The mother spent many nights in her remaining days of life wishing over her child and watching as the buds opened on the plant and the plant slowly began to die to be resurrected again by her tears for her child in order to rain down more wishes and blessings on the head of her little child. She wished for him to grow up strong, to grow up powerful, to grow up with magic in his veins, to be wise, to be successful, to be intelligent... So many wishes she placed on her little child before she had once again ran the plant dry. But she was forced to hide the baby with the voodoo woman before she was captured and was unable to revive the plant and wish for more.

But that child is not the child of this story. That child grew up in the care of the voodoo woman and did indeed become all his mother wished for and more. But fate turned sour for him when he had a family and a child of his own. He was being hunted and his family could not escape his fate... Now the blessed father fled with his son back to the medicine woman where she again gave them the potted plant. The father then spent many sleepless nights wishing the best for his child, reviving the plant and wishing again and again all the things for his good and well being. Even wishing that all the wishes that his mother placed on him would be given to his own child... The power of the plant did this, bestowing the power of the father onto the child... This last wish finally destroyed the plant, bestowing all of its seemingly infinite power from both itself and the father onto this one little boy, changing him. The skin of the child turned blue and his eyes glowed with power and awareness at only six months old.

Again the baby was left in the care of the medicine woman as the father left to face his fate.

The baby grew up indeed powerful. But it seems the kindness and wishes of good fortune did not follow him. He grew up to struggle, raised in a poor society that would devour those with but a shred of weakness. His awakened mind was first limited by his baby body, and then limited again in his youth by inferior intellects of other young children and even adults that could neither match him in wit nor in physical accomplishment. At first he garnered the hatred of those around him, lording his power over them, but he soon learned humility towards those around him when he found that fear could not inspire others to true friendship or inspire them to treat him fairly and with kindness.

Taking this lesson to heart he soon became very renowned for his strength and leadership, becoming a prominent person in his community at only twelve years old. When bandits came too close or began to prey on his community, he was able to inspire regular men to take up arms and follow him, driving away the troublemakers. Sometimes his kindness reached the hearts of those he fought and those individuals would choose to follow him in order to be free from their own unfair situations.

At sixteen years old he was heralded as a hero in his village and the surrounding communities. He expanded his influence to these other communities where he protected and inspired them. He formed a private police force manned only by the people who lived in the now unified communities. He inspired them to watch out for each other and to stick together when times got tough. This community soon became very successful and the village even began earning some bit of wealth and prosperity. Kuxtal himself had amassed enough wealth for himself in order to attend a higher end school where he can stretch his awakened intellect, confident that his friends and community would be able to stand without him for a while. He spent three years learning all he could, until the brightest minds in Vel Anir had nothing left to offer. His mind was sharp and he was now a young man. He felt there was nothing in the galaxy that could limit him.

Then he returned home... What he found of the community he left behind, was ruin. Survivors told him what had happened while he was away... Their village had become a thorn in the side of some very powerful criminal organizations. While the people in the community and it's private police force were accustomed to battling small time bandit gangs and highwaymen... They were not prepared for the army of mercenaries that cut a bloody swath through their whole village. Kuxtal was enraged. He went to the nearest city and begged them to put a stop to this crime syndicate... His pleas were met with silence. He tried to contact other cities and mercenary guilds... But was again met with silence... So he returned to his community empty handed. He looked about at those who were left, standing around him looking for guidance. Not an army... But enough.

The kindness left his eyes... His face became hardened. He used their amassed wealth to purchase weapons and equipment, arming the survivors and using his words to turn them not into soldiers for justice, but reapers of vengeance. The mercenaries were not difficult to find as they did not feel the need to hide. He took his tiny army and, with careful planning and flawless strategy, decimated the whole mercenary group, not leaving a single one alive.

After that he disbanded his group of newly minted killers, and attempted to rebuild his life in that ruined community, but the reigning lords had other plans. Kuxtal had just committed a slaughter, and this made him dangerous. As well as being deep in the pockets of the crime syndicate the Lords felt they had just cause when they came and had him arrested for the slaughter of freelance mercenaries. He allowed himself to be arrested in the interest of justice, as the restraints could not truly hold him, but what he found was not justice. They placed him in high security on the order of the crime syndicate without trial and was placed into a prison barge where he was to be taken to an island from which non would return. He was meant to die there, but instead he spent those days on the ship reaching deep within himself and learning more about magic, sensing his deep connection to it, like the blood of the entire universe was rushing as an unstoppable and fatal river to consume him... But he could not, refused to be, unable to be, consumed by it.

How he escaped was an irresistible act of a powerful man. But even so, he returned to Arethil broken and confused. Where was justice? What is the law? The giant man wandered the land trying to find answers.