All life fits a niche. Good. Bad. Light. Dark. Some things are merely neutral. Though beastly, Baeum is as useful as he is harmful, and as beautiful as he is hideous.
Baeum is a monster, through and through. He gallops, not unlike a great black rhino. He roars as convincingly as he speaks, his voice terrible and deep. His charcoal skin is thick and dry. His feathery mane is inky and reflective. His many talons are hooked and black. And while he may appear slow and lazy, he can scale the tallest forest and cross the deepest valley in moments. But in all of this, it is the round golden jewels of his small eyes which haunt the most fiercely.
Baeum's vast knowledge is ancient and adaptive, and just as unpredictable as his actions. He is not known to feel pity or remorse, but nor is he known to experience hatred or repulsion. He can be both incredibly patient and frustratingly fickle. His neutrality is absolute--or, it was.
All the world is comprised of delicate balances.
Death precedes life; destruction precedes creation.
Some creatures hold true to this balance, acting only on whimsy.
But man so loves to manipulate what is not rightfully his, and is terrified of what he cannot rightly control.
Baeum, like many of his kin, does not take kindly to bars and chains.