With these tools of steel, he had begun a one man war against the world he lived in. He had fought off the terrors of the night, the horrible temptations of the day, and the demons that resided within his soul. He had been caked in blood more times then he was able to count and he had stitched his own wounds even more then that. The scars that were layered across his body were ones of subtly but still able to be seen when one looked hard enough. At first glance to all others, it was easy to tell he was no simple farmer of beans and corn. He emanted an aura that only a battle scarred veteran could boast of.
Despite it all, he still stood with the blades resting in his hands. He bore a symbol on his chest that carried along with it the taint of chaos. Despite the taint of chaos however, he shined while in battle with a brilliant light that caused others beside him to fight even harder then before. It was not a light of courage or bravery, nor was it a light of victory and glory. It was the light of hope for all mankind, and with it came the burden of seeing the light in even the darkest of people. He carried along with his light and tainted mark the burden of survival. This was seen as an impressive task to achieve in the lands of Lerida, but Marcus of Harborstone was not one to see the conquering and killing of his foes as a feat to impress. He only slayed those who went against what he stood for. First he had stood alone, unable to choose to shift his weight behind. After wandering alone for a time that was unable to measured, he began to believe in a cause of peace. He believed that by following the very goddess who stood for such a thing, that he would be able to bring the very concept to his homeland and watch his people thrive instead of shrink person by person, night by night. It took a few more years of undocumented time before he realized that -peace was a flawed concept, as was the goddess he followed so willingly. She left in the middle of the night, and it was then that he almost became overwhelmed. He had lost his lady, his cause and his very soul to these years. He allowed himself to be taken in chains and placed on the alter for the beasts of Chaos and Darkness to take him in. He no longer had the light that shined for him and gave him the strength he would need to survive. He closed his eyes and allowed the chaos to surge throughout his body. He took the pain in stride and silently waited for the beast of darkness to course through his veins and complete the possession of his body.
It was in these seconds that Marcus felt a beat in his chest. In a split second, he opened his eyes and roared a battle cry that shook the very ground beneath his feet. He broke free of his chains, and retrieved his blades within a few moments. The creature of darkness leaped at him, but he swatted it aside with a simple flick of the wrist. He would no creature of the tempting night take his soul. The followers of Darkness and Chaos both rose up from their ceremonious places, drew their weapons and charged at him. Marcus narrowed his eyes as they closed in and just as they descended upon him, he charged. From his skin, a pulsating light come forth that caused his attackers to be distracted for a single moment by the fear now in their breasts. Never before had a man shined like Marcus did now, especially when surrounded by beings of such dark forces. How could a man such as this emanate such a pure force of goodness? Especially when a mark of Chaos was now forever sealed onto his skin?
It was this moment of distraction that Marcus used to his advantage, weaving through his enemies as if they were nothing but paper and butter against the edges of his blades. It was not very long before Marcus once again stood caked in blood with a pile of dead enemies behind him. His breathing was heavy, his mind worn, and his hands were slippery with the mixture of blood and sweat. All he could focus on now was... what was ahead. And so he sheathed his blades, and walked out of the lair of horror that he had surrendered himself towards.
He had no idea what he was going to do next.