Ogre

You were born genetically bigger than other people. So when an army stumbled upon your humble abode while on campaign, they deemed the moment a historic discovery of a new exotic race; the finding of one that resembled fabled figures of giant proportions as recorded in mythical stories of legends, one which seemed to come straight out of the tales of an epic saga. As one marked as a spoil of war, you were enslaved to serve as an economic good, along with the cudgel you used as a self-defense weapon. In one way or another, you have ended up in the gladiatorial arenas, perhaps as a subject of study, an exhibition showpiece, or maybe they consider you worthless, your usefulness exhausted, doomed to perish in the fighting pits. You wouldn't know. You barely speak their language after all. You just know that to live, you must fight.