Kryln grew up on the streets of Percants cities. As a young boy he followed his father from fight to fight, be it in taverns warehouses or alleyways. The road was home, their next meal just a KO away.

It's a hard thing, growing up watching your old man get and give beat downs. But hell, it's all you know and you love it just the same. Soon the gambling, drinking, and edge of your seat fights become addicting.

Some said it was inevitable that he would follow his father into the trade. The clincher though, was his father's death.

Over the next four years Kryln trained and fought his way to the top of the underworlds pit fighting circuit. His steel gray eyes fixed only on one man...

Then the pages of his memory went black.

It really burns him not remembering if he killed that son-of-a-bitch.