Roxxon

Merek was born into a family of poor farmers living close to the great Imperial City of Helena. He has one older brother, who he got along famously with as a child. He always used to play knight with the other boys from the village, while the girls watched. When he grew up to be a teenager, he had built quite the combat prowess – with a wooden sword that is. Even though he and his brother had to help their parents a lot, they kept fighting little duels from time to time.

At the age of 16 Merek fell in love for the first time. Her name was Mariah and he was sure she was the love of his life. Unfortunately for him, that feeling was not mutual and when he confessed his deep love to her, she and her friends mocked him. After this he felt terrible, but when he told his brother about it, he responded with compassion. Merek’s brother proposed that they continued practicing sword fighting, so Merek might join the grand army of the Orenian Empire. Maybe then the ladies wouldn’t reject him this cruelly, Merek thought. Thus, the brothers kept training.

One sunny day, when Merek was working on the fields of his parents’ farm, his sleeve slipped up and he noticed a rash on his forearm. Not knowing what it was, and hoping it would go away soon, he continued with his work. However, the rash got worse every day. It spread all over his arm and formed blisters. Now frightened, Merek told his parents, who were mortified. They had heard about this before, this terrible disease. From that day on, his family grew more distant. His brother wouldn’t practice with him anymore, his mother kept her distance, and his father barely even looked at him. Over the next month, the disease spread even more, to his back, his legs and even his face. One night, he hit the doorframe with his foot. He felt the impact, but there was almost no paint. He looked down to his feet, that were now also covered with the strange disease. He kicked the doorframe again, and again, he felt but a little stinging.

The next morning, his father woke him with a bucket of cold water. Merek was told to get a move on, dress, and then meet his father outside. When he stepped out of the door, his brother and father stood there, keeping a safe distance, and took Merek to the nearby city’s temple. Like that, Merek was cast out. Rejected even by the temple, he lived in the streets for the next two years, his body covered in a scarf to conceal his malformed skin. During that time, he begged, fought in street fights, and stole. In the fights, his anger often overcame him, making him beat up his opponents more than he would have needed to. When he had collected a fair amount of coin, he went to the city’s blacksmith with a special request. He wanted a mask, forged from heavy iron, that covered his whole face, despite having slits to see. From the money, he also bought a heavy broken blade. Covered in his tunic, bandages around his arms and legs, the iron mask on his face and his blade on his shoulder, Merek left the city that day. When he walked through the streets towards the main gate, people stopped to watch, women froze in fright and children started to cry. Merek had had enough of this life in the street, he wanted to be freer, so he left into the nearby woods.

Wandering alone made him an easy target for some highwaymen watching the road through the forest.  Despite his rather fearsome appearance, they ambushed him. Easy loot, they thought. Merek, surprised but with a cool head, readied his blade. The first bandit laughed at him, a weird masked figure with a broken blade. When Merek attacked him, he missed, making the bandit laugh even more. This would be his downfall. Merek’s second strike didn’t miss. He crushed the bandit’s face with a single blow, leaving the other two highwaymen speechless. Fear formed in their face. Merek stayed silent and turned towards the next attacker, who was wielding two daggers. This one came charging towards Merek and slashed towards him with his dagger. One hit his mask, but the other slit his shoulder. Merek grunted but didn’t flinch and hit his attacker with the flat side of his sword, making him stumble back and fall. Merek’s next strike went right to the downed opponent’s chest, crushing his ribcage. The second strike went deep into the bandit’s chest, who died instantly. Under his mask, Merek’s face formed a wide grin. It was getting wider the more blood sullied his clothing. He liked the fighting. He liked the killing. The third bandit, who had witnessed this brutality, was frozen from fear. He looked at the masked monster, unable to move, when it slowly withdrew its blade from his comrade’s bloody pulp of a body and then slowly looked at him. The bandit dropped his weapon, starting to run in utter terror. They had underestimated that masked weirdo with a broken blade. Thinking this, the highwayman stumbled and fell. Merek was above him in no-time. He raised his broken sword to kill this last foe but stopped to think. Then he spoke with a hoarse voice to the bandit on the ground. He told him to take him to his boss, or he would die this day. The terrified bandit, given no choice, agreed, and lead Merek to the bandit chief. After hearing the story from his underling, the bandit chief agreed to making Merek a part of his gang.

For the next five years, Merek was a part of this fearsome group of bandits, always content with what he got, and thus living quite the safe life; for a bandit that is. Any opponents were crushed, any rivals were slaughtered, and no victim was spared. His comrades called him ‘Scindo’, as he was infamous for cleaving through his opponents in a singular strike, often leaving them mutilated.

One foggy day, he and a few other bandits were ordered to raid an imperial noble’s carriage. Merek didn’t think much of it, commencing in the ambush as planned. They killed the guards and were about to open the carriage’s door, when Merek heard a baby crying. Inside there was a young woman with a baby. One bandit told Merek to take care of the two, but he hesitated. It didn’t seem right to him. That child had done nothing wrong, and taking its mother wasn’t right either. Meanwhile the other bandits searched the other parts of the carriage, but there was nothing there to loot, as one exclaimed. The bandit from earlier came back to Merek, asking why the mother and the child were still alive. Merek gave no answer, and so the other bandit took it upon himself. He slit the woman’s throat and after a second of hesitation, he decapitated the baby.

Seeing this infuriated Merek. He took his sword with both hands and chopped the bandit’s leg off while releasing a hoarse roar. The bandit, confused and in pain, blindly swung into Merek’s direction, but missed. Merek readied his blade again and swung towards  the bandit’s chest, but only grazed him. He swung again and chopped off the bandit’s weapon arm. The other bandits came rushing towards the commotion, just when he finished off the first bandit. Seeing what Scindo had done, they attacked, but Merek struck each of them down. His blade was dripping blood and his clothes were soaked red. Throughout the fight he had contracted a great number of injuries, many of which went unnoticed due to the low amount of pain he felt in his arms and legs and the adrenaline, shooting through his body. Standing there, battered and surrounded by chopped up corpses, he fell to his knees. His while body was in pain, though it meant nothing to him. He began stumbling through the woods, and eventually, he was barely even crawling. Rhe loss of blood was too much and he was getting weaker and weaker. Then, he passed out.

He was woken by a woodsman. Merek was in a cabin, covered by bandages and warm under several blankets. The woodsman assumed, Merek had tried to fend off the carriage’s attackers and had been wounded this severely in an act of bravery. Merek, happy about this misconception, didn’t bother tell the truth. Why would he? It would have been suicide. After seeing the innocent child being so brutally murdered by his former comrade, he decided, the bandit life was nothing for him anymore. Filled with new determination, he made full recovery of his battle wounds, and then left the kind woodsman without a word, off into a new life.