Gnawgnaw The Fleshrider

Some ride beasts. Others build them.

Gnawgnaw is no warlord by birth—he clawed his way up from the breeding pits, dragging broken bone and butchered genius behind him. A master of twisted flesh and warped muscle, he didn’t tame his mount. He grew it.

The creature he rides is no simple beast. It slithers and stumbles like a newborn horror with many limbs. It roars, it bleeds, it thinks in pulses and hunger. It will grow still—yes-yes, much more.

In battle, Gnawgnaw rides high, barking commands and jabbing controls wired deep into the monster’s spine. Flesh meets iron, instinct meets invention. It’s not always clear who’s in charge.

Some say it’s a weapon. Others say it’s a mistake that hasn’t finished mutating yet. Gnawgnaw just calls it “progress.”

And when it breaks free? Well… that’s tomorrow’s problem.