[hider=Cy]Name: 
Terrance Welston (Cyrus Vedon)

Age: 28

Gender: 
Male

Occupation: 
Various

Appearance:
Standing at 5'11'' with a dishevelled look and an emaciated body, Terrance could be said share a greater likeness to a fresh corpse than to a man.  Such a comparison might unfair, if it were not for the fact that he carries himself as lightly as a ghost would, often escaping the notice of many by mere nature.  A scraggly beard and unkempt brown hair hide a haggard face aged beyond it's years, defined features drooping with stress but still alluding to a wealth long lost.  Sitting centrepiece of that face Terrance's vibrant green eyes lay framed by the rings of uncounted sleepless nights.  Atop his shoulders hang a worn but ornate coat now baggy and large for his frame, but one he no doubt fit into in days long past.

Personality:
Timid by any measure Terrance, perhaps understandably, shies away from social situations and even when forced into them acts with the utmost reticence.  In these uncomfortable contacts with other people Terrance can often be seen checking a pocket watch, a watch whose dials have been still for many years.   However, away from prying eyes Terrance displays an intellect that contrasts sharply with his attitude and appearance.  What openness might be held back with other human beings is given freely to books of all subjects, books which Terrance seems to read with feverish intensity as if searching for something in the pages, desperately turning them to near an answer set eternally around the corner.

History: 
Born to a notable industrialist of a father and a family of tremendous wealth Terrance lived the first eighteen years of his life as the trimmed and proper the heir to a company and a fortune on a vast estate.  While to many such a life in the very lap of luxury might be a step removed from utopia, Terrance grew to find it suffocating.  After years of playing the perfect son living the perfectly planned life and suppressing the growing animosity he felt towards his family the Terrance slipped away in the night and fled to the big city.

For a year he worked in between jobs while his family fruitlessly searched from him and when the attention span of the media finally ran out he volunteered for the peace time army under the false name of Cyrus Vedon.  Nineteen and looking for a life and name of his own the opportunity presented by the military was simply too appealing to pass up, and a year later when war reared it's ugly head Terrance felt only exuberance and honour being one of the first to receive the summons.

After several skirmishes Terrance's naive exuberance may have faded, but he had gained the distinction he wanted.  The war was nearing an end and he'd been promised his own command when it finally ceased, a name for himself he [i]earned[/i], one he bled for.  It was with these thoughts the final battle approached, and it was with these thoughts that the world ended.

Years later a wandering man who called himself Cy on his way to a small town for work would be caught in a storm and spurred on by a devil in every boom of the thunder he'd stumble his way onto an estate far too similar to the one that haunted his dreams.

[/hider]