|Birthplace||Estark, on Dominaria|
|Lifetime||Born after 3000 AR, (probably) died in 4069 AR|
Kuthuman, under suggestion of his servant Zarel, bribed the Masters of the Bolk, Ingkara, Fentesk and Kestha Houses to destroy the green-blue house of Oor-tael, which resisted his order to hand out its mana in order to permit his ascension, in what will be known as the Night of Fire. He then used the mana from the Master of Oor-tael, Cullinarn, who was once his closest friend, to cast a spell researched by his then lover Kirlen, which gave him planeswalking abilities (or alternately flared his spark). He appointed Zarel as the new Grand Master of the Arena, and ordered him to continue to collect mana from the country, needed to sostain his planeswalking ability. He then started to journey through the planes, returning only once a year, in the final day of the Festival of Estark, to collect his mana tribute. At the same time, he would take with him the champion of the Festival, supposedly to teach him (or her) the secrets of a planeswalker. In reality, the festival was a sham; the true intention of Kuthuman was to find the strongest fighters and killing them secretly, in order to weed out everyone who could challenge his power.
Twenty years after the Night of Fire, he was tracked down by Garth One-Eye, son of the Master of Oor-tael. When Garth won the Festival, Kuthuman transported both of them to the heart of his realm. This was an unnamed plane with a darkened field that stretched away into an eternity. Dark green clouds roiled in the sky, half filled by a dark red sun. The wind was damp, cold, and filled with a pungent acrid smoke that held with it the stench of corruption. In this place, Kuthuman explained to Garth the reality of being a planeswalker: to be always in strife against other similar beings, in a perpetual struggle for mana and power. Although Garth defeated Kuthuman, it is unknown if Kuthuman is dead or if he only lost his planeswalker-like powers, remaining stuck on his plane.
His appearance in human form was that of a young man with a tall, sinuous figure, clad in black robes. At one instant, the smile on his bloddless lips appeared to be almost a friendly smile, and then in the same instant it was a smile of cunning, of power and contempt. During the festival, he usually acted like a grossly buffoon, eating, wenching and gambling. On his plane, his appearance was that of a shadow, not fully formed, wavery, as if nothing more than mist. The form had black robes fluttering in the breeze, and in the shadow could be glimpsed a skull-like visage.