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[b]Full Name:[/b]
Silvarae Ailissa Kaizen
 
  [b]Nicknames/Aliases:[/b]
Zero
 
 [b] Age: [/b]
25
 
  [b]Gender:[/b]
Female

[b] Rune/Location[/b]
Rune-Algiz
Location – Back of Left hand
 
[b]Rune Powers:[/b]
Shields, the ability to shield oneself or another.
 
 [b] Description:[/b]
Silvarae is considered to be of average size and build when compared to others of her age, standing in at approximately 5’6 and weighing in at 65kilograms. She is quick on her feet and extremely agile. Her eyes are a steel blue and she has long blonde hair that she keeps pulled back in a ponytail. She has the appearance of a woman that could blend into a crowed should she desire it, or stand out in that same token. 
A smile rarely crosses her face though some have noted that in the heat of battle she wears a facsimile of a smile while her eyes shine with the purity of her hatred and blood lust. She is often seen wearing a form fitting body suit. While she is not preparing to battle or training she may be seen wearing a long shirt as her only clothing, the color of the shirt never matters seemingly to be chosen completely at random. 
She carries herself with an air of superiority as if she knows she is better than most and thus she appears to most people to be unapproachable or indifferent. She keeps herself impassive to those around her and this shows not only on her face and it’s lack of emotions but in her body language as well. 

  [b] Personality:[/b]
Quiet and withdrawn Silvarae prefers to keep her own company to that of others, she appears to believe that most others are inferior to her and so to spend time with them would be to lower herself. She rarely speaks to others, however when she does it’s usually to bark an order or something. Most of her time is spent in combat training, even when given spare time she spends that in the training room pushing herself to greater heights. 
The official stance on Silvarae Ailissa Kaizen is that she suffers from a severe inferiority complex and so lashes out at anyone who could possibly get close to her and is putting up an air of superiority as a way of guarding against the crippling feelings of inferiority she suffers. Due to this she is driven to prove herself more so than any others. She has been described as reckless if it means achieving her own goals, once having trained for 3 days straight without taking a break because someone had managed to achieve a goal that she had not been able to prior.  
    
  [b]Skills: [/b]
Silvarae is trained in many forms of hand to hand combat along with numerous forms of weapons. 
Her main skills lay with in her agility and dexterity, she closes the distance between her and her enemies and uses a close combat style developed with a berserker in mind. She favours one of two different weapons for this, 
Fenrirs Fangs; A pair of Daggers honed to within microns of an edge making them one of the sharpest pair of blades on the planet. The blades carry runic inscriptions along their lengths which read “The Bite Shall Rival the roar!” When she is surrounded and alone she will often resort to these short-ranged weapons in a hurricane fighting style.
Jormungandr; A two handed bastard sword which she will use if she requires something that hits a little harder in close combat. She has learned to use this in a defensive stance, and is used more when she has someone she has to protect.
Artemis; A high powered sniper rifle, .50 cal, this is used very rarely as it is counter intuitive to her chosen fighting styles and the profession she was trained in. Not very good with it.
Valhala; A small calibre SMG, this weapon only comes out if she is unable to use Ferirs Fangs or Jormungandr in battle. A kind of last resort capable of spreading bullets quickly if not terribly powerful. she uses it more as spray and pray than with any real skill.
Barrier; her rune ability to create shields of variable sizes, their strength wains as they grow bigger.
 
[b]   Weaknesses: [/b]
Emotional attack; her insecurities and Inferiority complex leave her open, and vulnerable to any emotional type attack on her, 
Close Combat fighter; She must be in close combat to fight her targets, even owning the Artemis she finds it very difficult and disturbing to use it. 
Isolation; she keeps herself isolated from others not truly forming bonds and thus when she fights alone instead of fighting beside others.  
Berserker Rage; While fighting she loses track of friend and foe, any that stand before her as a threat will be targeted.
  
[b]  Brief History: [/b]
Being born into a family of overzealous mercenaries Silvarae had to learn from a very young age how to fight and defend herself or die trying. Her father taught her the necessary skills of fighting and honed them to a fine edge. However, he always told her she was not good enough, using his own impressive feats as a scale to belittle her. Her young age lead to her believing that nothing she could ever do would dwarf that of her father, and that everyone else was better off than she was. She slowly developed a strong dislike for others whom she would never be able to catch up to. 
On the day, she turned 11 she fought against her first ever Warg, Her family had captured it with much skill and risk to test everything she had learned in what would be her first ever live combat. For the battle, she was given the choice of one weapon to take with her, being small and agile she chose to take a dagger, to an adult the weapon would have been little more than a letter opener. 
The time had come and she faced off against a hungry and tormented Warg, that wanted nothing more than to sink it’s fangs into her neck. The warg charged at her, and with movements as fluid as water she would move, if others hadn’t watched they would not have believed how fast it was. Her eyes at this age already dull looking out at a world with the view of a jaded adult, were alight with fire. As the beast leaped to take down it’s pray her subtle movement placing her to the inside of the beast and the dagger quickly biting into the chest of it. 
A Growl and then nothing as the Warg hit the ground dead, she would look up to her father with the blood of the strike still covering her hand. A smile, one that any other might have said was disturbing on her face, the first life she had taken and it empowered her. It gave her training, her very existence in her mind a reason for being. She brought the hand to her lips that was covered in blood and licked it, ‘still warm’ the only words that went through her mind as she tasted the coppery essence that rand down her hand. 
Witnessing this her father began to hire her out to people who required escorts out of the city or even to hunt down wargs that had found their way into town. Her graduation gift for passing all her training was the pair of daggers which would become known as Fenrir’s fangs. Becoming known as such thanks to the savagery with which their master fought. 
Many years passed with her running these hired jobs and she had never lost a single person to an attack. She garnered herself the title of Zero, meaning no one dies under her guard. She would become brusque and quiet. Seeming to stare down at people because of her talent. 
That is until she was discovered by the institution for her unique skill which had been granted to her not too long ago. 
[b]Other:[/b]
Her Discovery:
The night was young and the group she had been hired to escort seemed to be a group of businessmen that were heading out of town for a week or so, nothing unusual about that in and of itself. What was though was the location they were heading to, she had heard reports of heavy Warg activity, and rumours of other monsters that lurk in the shadows. She mentioned that it was a bad place to go but they were adamant on their location and her father had already received payment for this mission. She informed them that they will do exactly as she says when she says, or else they will die. 
They travelled the two days to the location which passed with little to no incidents, a couple of stray wargs which were terminated with haste. Arriving they set up camp and she set about securing a perimeter. Spell slingers may have helped in this however they only had her to guard them so she set trip wires and the likes around. 
It was midnight on the first night at camp when they heard the first signs of something being up. A solitary Warg howl breaking the otherwise serene silence of the night. Silvarae was up and preparing for anything at the first notes of the sombre tone when she heard a second howl from the south, her mind checking quickly the first had come from the north. Moments later a third joined in from the east. The party of men became nervous and began to chatter about heading to the west to try escape the danger of three different Wargs.
Silvarae told the not to move at all, she knew what this meant, the hunting wargs were trying to channel them into a location where no doubt their pack would be waiting. A trap, she pulled out the Bastard Sword, Jormungandr and lowered herself into a combat position north of the men as she closed her eyes and listened. A slight jingle of a bell to the west, she was right, something had tripped her wire in that direction.
An Alpha Warg stepped into the light from the shadows it’s eyes glowing red and saliva dripping from it’s up curled lips, as if annoyed with the Humans who dared to stay put instead of running dead into their trap. It charged at the group growling as it did and jumping at them. Silvarae acting with a precision long since practiced caught the beast with her bastard sword flicking it back. 
A fierce battle would ensue between her and this alpha predator as she caught it’s attack with Jormungandr and parried them throwing the beast off balance several times and tacking any attack of opportunity. It wasn’t until she heard another bell to the east jingle that she switched to the Fenrir’s Fangs daggers dropping her sword. She would dispatch the new comer as he attempted to leap onto her with a backwards swipe of the dagger while the alpha stood back avoiding the worst of her attack. 
Three more Wargs would approach from the shadows in attempt to surround her, they seemed to ignore the men for now as they were less of a concern and easy to kill at their leisure. The combined attacks against her were beginning to wear down her Defences with the daggers and the hurricane fighting style had its own drawbacks in that if it were to become prolonged as the Wargs were making it, she would become dizzy. 
When the Wargs sensed weakness they launched in for a killing blow, at this moment she took a deep breath and readied herself for the inevitability of death, crossing the daggers to at least take down the alpha something happened. A flash of light on the back of her left hand and a rune appeared there, the daggers bit into the alpha however a barrier of force appeared around her blocking the other two from harming her. As the Alpha fell to the ground drawing his last breath the other wargs fled. The rest of the trip went with little incident, though the rune on her hand she did not recognize she did learn that it gave her the ability to produce a barrier like shield.