Suldren Dohluk grew up in the city of Neshill along with his four younger brothers. Neshill was a moderate sized town whose population was mostly made up of humans. The humans were very tolerant and there were still plenty of dragonborn for him to associate with, so growing up he would never feel any of the isolation or prejudice many of his kind would. Not that he would spend much time socializing during his early years, his father saw to that.
Suldren spent most of his time training with his family. Once it became obvious that he was the most fit to lead his brothers his training changed and became even more intense and time consuming. He’d spend hours after his physical training speaking with his father who explained that words could often be more effective than weapons in many situations. He learned the most important aspect of being a good leader was making those who followed him stronger and more confident. Most beings would have been very impressed with the aptitude that Suldren was showing but his father being a dragonborn, and an exceptionally proud one at that, was barely satisfied.
Shortly after he turned sixteen Suldren’s entire life would change and none for the better. He was doing combat training with his brothers when the city’s guard cried alarm. Growing up he had been told stories about the terrifying power and cruelty of the chromatic dragons and had thought them to be exaggerated in an effort to scare him. He painfully learned how accurate those stories were. A black dragon appeared and was approaching his city. Before he could even blink it was in Neshill and killing its inhabitants. He never would have believed any creature could be so immense. He was powerless to do anything but stare in horror. His brothers called to him but he was lost in his terror and they ran off without him. He watched the dragon kill those he grew up with, laughing while it did. That laugh would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Suldren almost became another one of its victims as a flying piece of debris the size of a man crushed him.
All of his brothers would die that day, along with his father and over half of the city. The majority of buildings were severely damaged and the city guard lost the many of its members. He awoke a week later ashamed and upset that he lived while many brave men had died. He would often wonder if he could have changed the outcome of that day. Common sense and several villagers told him that if he had charged in along with his brothers then he would have just been another casualty. But there would always be that part of him that would believe that he could have made a difference, maybe not kill the beast but drive it off sooner. He’d wonder how many lives he could have saved. What made it all worse was people’s attempts to make him feel better about his action, or lack thereof. He wanted to be called a coward and hated because it would have made his own feelings easier to deal with.
Suldren helped with the rebuilding effort as much as an unskilled laborer could for a little over a year. He never once looked anyone in the eye during that time. He planned on learning a trade and forgetting all of his training and would have done it too if it weren’t for the dream he had. His father gave him the last and most important lesson he could learn: Failing and retreating don’t make you a coward, giving up on yourself does.
Realizing that feeling sorry for himself wouldn’t help anyone and unless the dragon was stopped it would continue to ruin lives, he left Neshill that night. The world would know him as Suldren Dragonsbane and he would organize a group and lead them against the black dragon that killed his family. On his way to that goal he would rid the world of other creatures akin to the dragon and more importantly he would live up to the reputation of the dragonborn.