Injera was born deep underground in the region of Tian Xia known as the Chenlun Mountains. From a young age, his strength, large teeth, and talent with ancestral weapons, namely the Flying Talon, was recognized and nurtured. His childhood was marked by an intense strength and combat training program. By the time he matured, he had become a member of the renowned "Flying Talons" - an elite faction of guards who were entrusted with protecting all of the warren's most valuable junk and trinkets.
After a lifetime of training he had accomplished it. He was chosen to be part of the honored guard. Life was easy. *Too* easy. Nobody ever wanted to steal anything! His dragon, Red, was young and his territory was remote. Nothing was worth stealing. His Flying Talen grew rusty from lack of use. He didn't train for 2 decades just to stand around a dark room protecting trash. He needed a change. He needed to escape. On a particularly boring shift, Injera disappeared into the night, never to return.
Strong, fast, and maybe a bit naïve and unaware of civilized society's moral standards, Injera was able to find plentiful work with his skills. Coastal cities always had some big shot smuggler or crime lord in need of protection. His role as hired muscle for anyone who needed a hand was a much more fulfilling life than standing around in a dark cave. This line of work was how he ran across Zia, Pita, and Dez. They knew each other from working in the same line of "business". When he heard second hand that Zia was forced to flee through the portal, Injera decided to follow. "Justice" always seemed to be a code word for "unemployment," and that was a risk he couldn't afford.