Deep in the Diremaw prison, the lucky ones die early. Survive too long, and you’ll lose a piece of yourself to the gloom. The one exception being Pudge, who was never one to let a piece go to waste. So prodigious were his augmentations, that on the day of his execution, his borrowed girth thwarted any attempts to restrain the abomination. Manacles in tow, Pudge wrested the axe from his would-be-headsman and liberated both himself and his pillory. Polluting the air with the Black Death of Diremaw, Pudge lumbered once more onto the battlefield.