[b]Character Name:[/b] Michael Nawlin
[b]Age:[/b] 26
[b]Appearance:[/b] 6’5’’ swimmer build with black crew cut and hazel eyes. 
[b]Personality:[/b] mike plays the role of a calm and relaxed operator, never let you see him sweat. On the inside however, he’s still the same scared rookie, always paranoid until the fighting starts, then muscle memory and training take over.

[b]History:[/b] Mike grew up with a loving family, with a mom and dad they took frequent business trips that left him in the care of his grandfather. Raised to turn the other cheek and follow a moral path, He grew up listening to stories of war, of glory, and triumph over evil, always rooting for the underdog. Overall he grew up a happy, but stubborn child that wouldn’t stand bullying. The preverbal guardian he stepped in to help when others watched. 
At age 12 mike stood in the rain, face wet in spite of the myriad off umbrellas over and around him. He stared blankly at the alabaster painted coffins as they were lowered into the muddy pit. With only his grandfather left, he left the city and moved into the forested outskirts. It was then the stories grew worse every passing year. Originally easy wins against an unorganized enemy, the stories slowly twisted into dark, gritty battles where mike had trouble remembering who actually the good guy was, and when he asked, grandpa always said the same question in answer. “Who do you think was right”? At the time, mike would get frustrated, others always told him what to think, it wasn’t until then he realized the problem. He hadn’t needed to think for himself, teachers and adults told him what to think. 

A few days later he told grandpa his answer, in most cases neither side was right or wrong, it was an ambiguous grayscale the shifted based on what point you looked at. His grandpa smiled sadly and congratulated him for seeing beyond the veil, and how things weren’t as simple as they were 60 years ago. 
Another few years passed, learning valuable, if old skills such as tracking, marksmanship, and keeping blades keen. He was 15 when he sat in the ER under police supervision, shoulder bandaged, nose and right hand broken. The report said he had assaulted Connor, the county sheriffs son near a bar, everyone knew it was bullshit, mike would probably have been dead had he not rolled when he saw the knife. In the end the knife rolled into the gutter, the mud destroying the prints, and mike was found holding the rock that shattered Connor’s jaw. As it was the little bastard was sucking jello with through a straw while mike sat without meds as the officers questioned him. 

It wasn’t until his grandpa hobbled in and glared glacially at the cops that they gave up their post and the nurse started an I.V. of morphine. Before the medicine hit his head, the old vet asked mike why he did something so reckless, without hesitation mike told him about Connor drunkenly forcing himself on a girl before he stepped in, Connor sucker punched him, and the rest was kind of blank until the police found him bleeding on the ground with a rock in his hand. 
The next day the charges were dropped, and mike was allowed to go home. His grandfather told him to sit down, and explained that his parents didn’t die in a crash, and that his “senile old man” grandpa was just as sharp and spry as always. Retrieving a trunk from under his bed, he handed mike his inheritance, a weathered trench knife, and a journal from his parents, what he did from there was up to him. Squaring his shoulders he asked what he had to do, to follow his parents. his grandpa forced a sad smile and made a call. 

[b]Special Talents or Skills:[/b]
Hunter: years of tracking, observing and hunting have trained mike to move near silently and use cover efficiently. 
Scrappy: Used to fighting against uneven odds, mike is more efficient and comfortable fighting cornered, or unarmed then others. 
Lock Picking- Able to pick analog/ key locks

[b]Personal Weapons & Equipment:[/b] 
M-14 scout 
Witness 10mm pistol
Family trench knife + Hold out knives in both boots. 
Body armor- lightweight ballistic pads for joints and vital areas covered by class 3 plateing. (Think motocross gear with bracers and such. 
Snap gun- (auto lock pick, look it up) + Back up manual lock picks