Eye Color: Deep, raging Blue (Like the c
Hair Color: Dark, Dark Brown
Height: 5 feet 9
Weight: 150
Age: 16
Place of Origin: Shienar


Rank: Trainee
Weaopon Score: 4
Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet
Primary Weapon:
Secondary Weapon:
Tertiary Weapon:


A lanky, long armed boy from the rural farmland in Shienar, Mark was a boy with a history of loneliness and hate. His parents had left when he was a very young boy, leaving him in the unwilling care of an his distant aunt and uncle out in the sparse, rural farmlands of Shienar. His uncle was a hard drinking, old farmer who beat him regularly, and his aunt was a sour coward. Mark grew up with no positive influences in his life, not understanding why he was abandoned with such distasteful relatives, and the perpetual coldness in his eyes was a testimony to the sadness of his birth. After getting beaten up several times by local bullies, Mark soon became quick with his fists, but after an unfortunate incident involving a knife fight with a serious stab wound along with several broken bones of the local kids(Mark could wield a knife as well as any street tough or gangster), Mark was run out of the town near his uncle's hut permanently. He was put to labor and forbidden all fun activities such as hunting and hiking. His uncle would constantly scream at him, calling him the son of a Darkfriend among other things, and Mark could not figure out why he would be left with this man while his parents were completely absent. He grew to hate his non-existent parents, puzzled as to why he did not know where they were, and grew even worse, to the point where he stole the woodaxe, some food, and a pair of clothes and left home.

       Striking out on his own, he unwittingly wandered south, to where he entered 

another village. Expecting to be greeted as a friend, he was instead run out of town for trying to steal one of the guards' great longswords, favored by Shienaran soldiers. He traveled south in anger and hunger, coming to a place that baffled him. In front of him he saw a city that rose from the soil of an island, and something, not quite curiosity compelled him to overcome his fear of others and enter the place. Expecting to be run out of this place, too, he acted cold and distant to all those around him, and was surprised to find that most people tried their best to be nice. Not knowing how to handle the change of surroundings he stumbled, dazed, toward the center of the city, where his eyes seemed to deceive him. Like a candle in his cold, distant life, the tower rose majestically before him, and fighting back tears, because he swore he would never cry, he walked toward the tower, armed with nothing but the will to find out what this place meant to him…

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