Szymon Wiezlaw was born twenty-four summers ago, to a family who resided on one of the islands within The Verge. Isolated, they knew little of the world at large, and still don't to this day. But, nevertheless, they are more than willing to learn. At around the age of eighteen, their parents entrusted them with a boat and supplies, bound for Almaris in search of a purpose that Syzmon could not yet define. Beginning as a humble, soft-spoken traveller, they spent their initial days surviving a nomadic lifestyle. That was, until after witnessing a pack of dark creatures lay siege to a small town, when a spark lit aflame in their heart. A purpose that they had been looking for almost their whole life, now given description, weight, meaning. So, he took the small amount of money that he had at the time, and bought an axe as his weapon. Eventually, as the years went by, with multiple bounties undertaken and completed to keep such beasts at bay, time and experience has granted them a full suit of armor, the colors of which fly for no nation in particular. In fact, they seem more a neutral party, travelling from place to place, a mostly silent figure who almost seems to live for nothing more than to put down the things that go bump in the night... All in the name of honor.
