[hider=Mostly looking for an Image] [center]Markus Niemen 24 | 176cm| Tainted [/center] [indent]Physical Description:[indent][color=7d7d7d] Standing at average height and with a wiry, athletic build, Markus isn’t anything imposing or overwhelming to look at. His face is gaunt and hollow, carrying the weight of a haunted man and the scars of a broken life, both physical and mental. His eyes, grey and set deep, do little to portray life while his hair is ragged and matted, worn by a world of hardship and cruelty. The most distinctive part of his appearance is his left arm which is covered in dark-grey scales, which stretches from his fingers to his shoulder and grows with every blood joining he undergoes. His clothes are dirty and tattered, covered in the soot and ash of a burning world and carry more than a few old bloodstains set deep into the dark grey material. [/color][/indent][/indent] [indent]Biography/background: [indent][color=7d7d7d] Born to tainted parents, in the unforgiving Republic, there was little chance of a happy childhood for Markus. His parents were poor and persecuted, eventually finding refuge in a cult to the Leviathans having lacked the courage to leave the republic and find the Leviathan lands. He was brought up to adore and worship the Leviathans but there was always a faint whisper in his mind when they undertook their rituals, which his parents took as a sign of the Leviathan’s graces. The cultists soon went militant, training to fight for their ‘gods’ when their prophesised arrival to the city, an event which they never lived to see. Republic soldiers raided the cult, acting on the knowledge only a totalitarian government could possess and slaughtered them, with Markus’ first blood joining occurred. The voice that had always been a whisper became a shout, promising him life and way out of his situation when he was faced with three soldiers advancing on him. When he came to, there was the decimated remains of three burly men scattered throughout the room, an incredible amount of blood everywhere and most alarmingly the tips of his fingers had become covered in scales. Taking a military grade rifle, sturdy clothes and enough travelling supplies to make it anywhere, he set out into the world as a fresh-faced fourteen year old. All the while he searched for the voice in his head once more. He hunted and scavenged, learning on the run about how to survive in the blaster wilderness and forever being hunted by purebloods, with a bounty having been posted on his head for the death of the three soldiers. He found refuge with a small enclave of exiled tainted and humans in one of the few remaining places of life in the world; a small forest that was relatively untainted by the arcane wars of the world, with water, food and animals in abundance in order survive. It was a place of relative bliss in the blasted world they inhabited which brought Markus back from the brink of insanity he’d been inevitably been sliding towards. He spent a year of joy there, having enough to eat and drink, along with consistent shelter and peaceful company, but such joys were not to last with the war eventually reaching the haven. Tainted armies clashed with the Republic armies, and the land burned once more, with many of the inhabitants dying or fleeing to the Leviathans, praying they would show more mercy than the Republic would. Markus took up arms against the Republic, fighting with his fellow tainted in the service of the Leviathans, keeping hidden the secret voice within his head along with the power he could wield. He kept himself guarded and quiet, emotions could cause him to explode into the blood joining, wherein he was just as capable of slaughtering friend or foe. [/color][/indent][/indent] [indent]Personality: [indent][color=7d7d7d] Markus is best described as an extrovert with a slight Machiavellian twist, he is relatively open though the fear of a blood joining and the harshness of what have soured his emotions somewhat, turning him to be outwardly cold and emotionless. His trust is hard to earn, with only a modicum of trust available for those that share similar goals, due to his intrinsic knowledge of how some people can be manipulative. His cult-based upbringing caused a reversal of fervour as he rejected their teachings in favour of the whisper in his head which never promised anything but always hinted at something more. He does however, possess a burning hatred of humanity for the brutal killing of his parents which despite a brief respite during his days in the haven, have only roared back into strength. [/color][/indent][/indent] [indent]Skillset: [indent][color=7d7d7d] Markus wasn’t particularly trained to do anything in particular, except maybe to be literate, but is an adept survivalist, a skill learned more from trial and error in the wastelands than by training. He is extremely practised with his rifle and in his unit he was by far the best shot, the result of a lifetime of hunting and fighting. He can hold his own in hand to hand combat, not particularly skilled but has survived through a mix of dirty tactics and sheer ferocity, most often by a blood joining. [/color][/indent][/indent] [indent]Equipment: [indent][color=7d7d7d] A somewhat battered and worn, high-powered bolt action rifle which looks less than impressive but is mechanically in a good condition. A well worn but sturdy travelling cloak and military garb of the Leviathan army. A large hunting knife, relatively unblemished. Pack with various survival essentials such as water canteens, rations, rope, tinder etc. [/color][/indent][/indent] [center][img] http://creationrev.wpengine.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/shutterstock_102474887-482x500.jpg [/img][/center] [CENTER][H2]Vroken the Fierce [/h2][/center] [/hider]