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Ages ago, a follower (and sibling of sorts) of the great pelagic guardian, under whose guidance the First-Awoken merfolk spearheaded the great war that eventually drove their demonic overlords out of the Tianhai. While certainly not as large or powerful as that creature, he was still known and feared as a formidable and capable warrior, trusted by the guardian and sent to carry out his will when he could not do so in person.
Had he been present that terrible day when the guardian was ambushed and cut down, he would certainly have perished in combat alongside the one he served. As it were, he found out only years later, and by the time he uncovered what little remained of his lord's corpse—enormous bones lying on the seafloor of some stormy, unknown world picked clean by scavengers—he had already resolved himself to the work of avenging his former master. But as the years passed, his rage grew and grew, until it eventually consumed him and turned him into the ruthless, destroying creature he is now.
In a moment of rashness he swore to destroy the archdemon, the grimmrgandr, who had masterminded the events that led to his master being slain. Yet soon he was forced to confront the awful truth that his power was infinitesimal when compared to a being of that lofty rank, and that he had no real chance of ever vanquishing that foe. As he realized how helpless he was against his enemy, his anger increased until he could contain it no longer. He lashed out by ambushing and killing a group of heiyao monsters who had been skulking along the shorelines of some spirit-haunted world, making preparations for some nefarious, nameless scheme. When he looked upon their ruined corpses, his work finished, the rage deep with him abated—and for the first time in a very long while, he slept peacefully.
Since then, he has struck countless times. At first his targets were clearly vile: heiyao agents whose very presence within the physical realm was an abomination. However, his anger has only grown, and he has often made enemies of those whose goals were morally ambiguous at worst. He has also become more willing to attack more formidable opponents—whether because he has been emboldened by past successes or made reckless by increasing desperation is unknown. On rare occasion he has been outwitted or overpowered, barely escaping with his life. He once fought a particular alfr who took a very dim view of his fanaticism, and would have killed him had he not managed to extricate himself from his opponent's grip.
Time has not made him any less deadly an adversary, and although he looks fragile he is deceptively difficult to injure. He is proficient in the use of a number of different weapons, and when fighting will wind his tail around his opponent for leverage. The many tendrils growing out of his back produce a sort of enchanted venom, which he can draw from himself and cast into Delineated entities that follow his command for a short while before dissipating. He often uses them as javelins or blades, but has been known to mold them into other forms as the situation requires.
His venom is widely feared, and its provenance is unclear. It is not a mundane substance—in a similar manner to that of other, less savory creatures, it responds to his will and he can alter its effects as he pleases, even for a while after it has entered its victim. His tendrils are capable of stinging foes, but against truly formidable enemies he will concentrate it in his hands so he can wield it as a weapon. There is a mostly-forgotten story, possibly apocryphal, of an ancient battle in which his master was locked in battle against a vastly powerful demon lord, a creature of gnashing jaws and overlapping plates, in a stalemate which lasted for days. Into this maelstrom he dove, crawling up the creature's carapace and neck as the two opponents raged and fought, fending off the demon's minions, until finally he was able to impale a venom-javelin into one of the monster's armor-lidded eyes.
