"A starved Pudge roams the lower bogs of the Dire, searching for sustenance. His wits, or perhaps his stomach, led him to a damp cavern where some sort of strange beast was rumored to live. Pudge, of course, emerged victorious from the encounter, but did not leave unscathed. The beast had gnashed its teeth and bit into his left arm...

It began with but a boil here, or a blister there. Slowly but surely, the beast had begun to cause some changes to the arm. The wound from its bite glowed with a vaporous shroud, and his fingers transformed to obsidian-colored claws. Discomfort is nothing new to Pudge, and there is no price too great to pay for more power."