Giants of Any Size

There was a place, far beyond the normal boundaries of men, where giants were the ultimate race. The highest and most regarded of all drow and elves and all manner of creatures, outthinking the dim giant. Moving with a nimbleness, that played against the giants strength. Races. Serin is not this place. That place was lost, humans came and Kigrans family was from this place, having fled from some nameless destruction many years before Kigrans birth. He was raised outside of Darkhaven, his father a mercenary to the Dark Army and his mother a shaman of some renown. Hardly a fitting place for a boy, no matter their race, but Kigran loved the violence. It fit him. As a boy, hed fight with the human men and leave taverns behind him in a shambles. Easily twice the size of a human when he grew to his full height and girth, he took great pleasure in showing how strong he was. This was, more often then not, at the expense of someone elses health. Years following the death of his parents, he was wandering the streets in an alcohol filled stupor, he stumbled upon a temple deep within the confines of Darkhaven. Wandering in, he looked about with interest, until two guards set upon him with scimitars at his intrusion. Laughing manically, he killed both with only his bare hands, leaving both with crushed skulls and shattered rib cages. As he continued his survey of the temple, a priest exited deep chambers and found him standing over two guards, licking their blood off his knuckles. At first, Kigran thought he would need to kill again. It wasnt until the priest laughed at the mess and beckoned for Kigran to follow, that he felt this one could live. He was given a captaincy, for he had killed the previous one and his sergeant. He ruled with an iron fist, crushing all those who would oppose his rules and strictly guarding the safety of the priests.