Marcus
"How many people must die until you are satisfied father?" was the last things Marcus said to his father that dark day. All but two came back from what was twenty that left hunting those who where different from us. He stood for all to see as the cold blue eyes of his father met his own "All if it takes I will give every thing for the cause. How dare you of all people my sun, my blood not see that humans are the only race worthy of this land… of all lands." The words where only magnified by the blood lust in his deep icy eyes.
The passage through time and thought was always a hard one for him. His meditation taught him this bitter lesson that stayed with him for three long years. Being alone and forgotten was all Marcus had his family was the men and women he sees day in and day out. Hear in this cell where his father put him for his loose words, a bitter man never wants his flaws pointed out so loudly. His cell was a beautiful one with food shelter and gardens filled with flower of many colors, but this monastery was only Closed gates from a world he yearned to be a part of. The first year crawled on as he learned the secrets and laws the monks fallowed, how they tune there bodies and minds to achieve Zen, How they did not up hold a god but the ideals of law and it sanctity. The next two years went by slow as honey dripping from it comb. Learning very little from the monks who had the best intention for him. The physical conditioning and the ability to use his body as a weapon was the only lesson in the long two years he took to heart. But he found himself looking on to the walls he hated so much.
With a deep breath Marcus opened his eyes to the gardens letting his mind travel back to the day at hand. Marcus was a man with the build of a willow, short red hair cover his head while yellow eyes that seemed to hold the slightest glow of bitter knowledge learned from years under an oppressive father. He looked out to his fellow monks who seem to do their work with as much devotion as they show in every other aspect of their quite lives. The world did not seem to move or change with in these walls every day the same. The eyes of every one dulled from the monotony of Zen. Marcus craved something more then this life of servitude to law could give him. Tonight he would make his move, tonight he would be able to make the choice of what to do about his lord father Kalmen knight of the wolves.
The very air seem to give him new purpose with every breath as he went through his daily choirs. Then the night slowly came in to view as he made his way back to the garden with only a walking stick and hope with him. He slowly crept up to the wall avoiding the watchful eyes of the guards. Then chance came upon him as the guard ran to the other side of the wall. Using his quarterstaff he gracefully leapt to the top of the wall landing with a soft sound of skin hitting stone. Then swiftly moving across the wall with cat like grace keeping a watchful eye for the guards and the Hanin River on the south side of the wall. Thinking of all he had to in the crucial moments when he reaches the corner of the south wall and his leg found new speed as the edge raced towards him. The horizon was so beautiful as he took his leap of faith diving in to the cold deep waters of Hanin as the impact left his mind slipping in to the black of the cold water feeling the currents carry him to the unknown.