Devaguea listened to the explanations for a while, letting them be as silly as they wanted, though once they got to other worlds, he simply raised his glass, full of a weak wine, and smiled softly. "Actually, self liberated Taldoran slave gladiator, research subject, and trophy slave."<br/><br/>He finished his small drink, before putting the cup down, and continued. "From the notes I read after I ripped out the throat of the slaver with my fangs and then blasted fire down the hole, I was purchased from a merchant of exotic goods that wasn't quite sure what I was, for a total of ten gold pieces. I hatched on a table, fell off, creeled in displeasure when I hit the ground, and was immediately enspelled. The next... however long I was alive I was under a constant charm monster, so my memory is a bit... rough."<br/><br/>The dragon filled and took another sip, shaking his head slightly. "I was... raised, for want of a better term, by an elven cleric of Sarenrae, whose was enslaved after failing to pay her taxes and was bought by the wizard that owned me. Her main duty was to ensure the health of all the other slaves. She taught me to talk, read, and write, and was eventually raped to death by three new gladiator slaves, who were recently caught bandits.<br/><br/>From my birth until my only caretaker was murdered, I was a gladiator training aid and a crowd draw, though the wizard that owned me always had some clever scheme to keep the more... 'valuable' merchandise minimally damaged until he could sell them to one of the larger gladiator arenas. Usually this was a focused hold monster spell, that bound my mouth shut, or my claws, or wings, though he usually bound my mouth shut once I showed some talent with magic. To better sell the matches, he was allied with a green skinned coward of the lying god of war who would announce, sell up, and 'officiate' the matches, though after my last match I never saw that one again. Probably because the coward played up the three bandits that murdered my caretaker, and I took them apart over a quarter of an hour. That fight was the first time I was completely free of my... 'owner's' enchantments, despite him trying at least three times to magically force me to stand down. It was also the first time, according to the notes, that my scales had shifted colors."<br/><br/>He took another small sip of his wine, before having to steady himself with the table, and looked at Allison. "Perhaps Lady Allison would like to hazard a guess as to what happened to me after that fight, and who the 'owner' was? I don't think I was particularly subtle with the clues."<br/><br/>As Allison looked at her notes, he turned to Sena. "Sera, what does scar tissue on a scaled being look like? Like, if the... the... the... hard things get damaged, broken, or cut, how does the... Scales, that is what they are, how do the scales heal?"