You are here, so you are probably either studying me for your own reason or arrived at this point through more spontaeneous means. At any rate, my past memories are blurry. My parents were killed by thugs when I was extremely young. I escaped and was raised by an aged gladwielder who had always wished for a daughter. From him I learned to appreciate both aesthetics and battle. I've never had many friends; my subaverage appearance and solitary nature endeared few. When I was a teenager, my guardian seemingly lapsed into senility and wandered off when I was asleep. I've never seen him since that evening. Then I enlisted briefly into an army, for I had no marketable skills and was rather irritated with the world in general. My military career was nondescript and somewhat ignoble. During a particulary intense confrontation, a Cinerian warrior inflicted a hemorraging wound. Terrified of bleeding to death, I began fleeing against orders. I stumbled on some feature of the terrain and received a concussion. After revcovering conciousness, the next thing I remember was my official discharge for insubordination. It would not surprise me if my name was excluded from their records, I was so insignificant. I still become unduly nervous whenever I sustain bleeding wounds in battle,even easily amendable ones. Perhaps my memory has become compromised because of my head injury. I'm not sure, because I can't remember my mental facilities any time before the battle. Now I roam around Iridine, living off what I skin, going on various adventures, and basically enjoying an aimless life. I have a couple of goals, however; I am endeavoring to be the most proficient sword expert in the world and to be a healer so that I may aid others and myself, should I bleed again.