A forsaken survivor originally from the Iceland.
|"It's strange... How is it that people can live in this world without hating everything in it including themselves? It just seems to me as if none of you really care about anything. You live as if nothing is wrong with this world"|
At a 6" he's lean, with sufficiently defined muscleature but not exagerrated to the point of being bulky, with scarred grey skin.
His hair is a charcoal black, somewhat swept to the side.Three scratch marks make their way diagonally across his face, leaving the only easily visible of his scars on his body. His eyes are filled red with a faint glow. Two broken horns protrude from his skull but are only slightly visible from his hair.
He bears tattoos of a hammer on each lower arm, the 'heads pointed to his taloned hands. Although his clothes usually cover them and the scars up. His attire consists of stitched black leather pants, boots, wrappings and a fur coat underneath a tattered black monk's cloak with a hood.
Over the years he's grown wise and clever and learned that deception is the key to survival. For that reason he travels dressed as a wandering monk. A vagabond. He doesn't much enjoy others company anymore, even if everybody who's met him would say the opposite. In truth he only stays with others long enough to eat and rest before moving on. He is without purpose or reason now, but still he hangs on, in spite of everyone and everything.
His experiences have left him bitter and hateful, hiding behind a kind and light-hearted man's mask. And really, just any old mask sometimes. Though he's by no means a coward he is tired of his endless journey and the inevitable death he's always running from. Hope abandoned him some time ago, yet his actions hint otherwise(as he keeps moving onwards when he could've taken his own life hundreds of times by now). Now he's just bitter and hateful at everything, even himself. Luckily, he's never stayed with anyone long enough for his true self to show. If there is a thing that drives him anymore it would be rage. Towards the abominations that are the Corrupted, the Horrors and God himself. This rage would show in the stories he uses to entertain those kind enough to offer him food, aid and shelter and his words would always be capable of sparking similar feelings amongst those who listen. It showed passion the kind he otherwise seems to lack in most things he does.
While he is not evil he has rarely shown initiative to protect or save someone, as he rarely believes his intervention would make any meaningful difference and prefers that others face their own hardships and determine their own fates. However, if necessary he acts in the opposite way, should he require the gratitude of others. Despite this he has shown to be genuinely kind sometimes, especially to children, acting as their guardian in need and seems to greatly despise anyone who would do them wrong in any way. In a similar manner he looks upon families. And in some cases has volunteered to help them should he see fit.
He is by no means a stranger to friendship and as such values his friends greatly, even if he would rarely express it in any normal way. Still he would always trust and seek to protect them, as well as to make them happy, regardless of himself.
He was born in tribe of the far north as a Thenn. His family was small, his father, a hunter, his mother a tailor, who was also busy at home taking care of him and his sister. However, this happy picture would only last so long. One day, when he was 10, his sister a year younger, their father would not return as he usually did. He had been killed by a pack of dire wolves, having used himself as a distraction for his friends to escape.
It was then that Makaras, was forced to stand up as the only man in his family. But a 13-year-old boy could only do so much. And he certainly couldn't hunt yet and he knew little of anything else to do so while his sister would help their mother at home he would do odd jobs for anyone willing to pay or trade. In what time he had to himself he would try to learn
And thus power became something of an obsession. Beginning his journey to achieve it he became forced to choose between goals and loved ones, not once sacrificing the latter for the former. It is this way that, at 16, he was left by his sister, who chose to remain pure while he became touched. While she found a group of survivors to travel with towards sanctuary, he pressed on on his own. It wasn't too late after they parted that he learned of her group's brutal slaughter by a handful of Corrupted. He found the encampment and her body amongst that of the rest, now barely recognisable. After burying her he continued on his path.
The following years he travelled, helping others where he could, stopping by a village every now or then. There he'd take up jobs, enough to get some money for clothing, armor, weapons and food. However, He never managed to get enough for a good weapon so he took to using tools, such as axes, sickles and hammers, becoming profficient with them.
At 19 his motivation had brought him to evolution as a Forsaken as his fate did bring him to Milan. It was then and there that he discovered the Rebel's Legion, a revolutionary movement of other Forsaken which sought to kill all Corrupted and Horrors and eventually take on and defeat God himself. While he did see it as too much of a far-fetched utopian fantasy he decided it was something worth fighting for. It was there that he first made any true friends. One such man was the leader of these rebels, Dardanel Borelis, whom he regarded with a great deal of respect amongst all else. There were others, of course. His closest friend yet was Augustus, a forsaken from the south. It was with him that he made a blood pact which marked the two forever as brothers in arms and blood. The two even fought often as a team whenever they and the others would engage Corrupted or even Horrors. Fortunately, they would have each other and their comrades whenever they entered the frey. It was the idea of the Legion. Victory through unity. And it wasn't wrong. While ones were weaker than others all would contribute in their own way towards the ultimate goal. Makaras embraced that and was proud of it. Two years after signing on he also found love for the first time with a woman named Equila, another fellow warrior from the Legion. They had known each other for longer than that, however their relationship was strained as they, well... they hated each other. So when their romantic feelings began to form it was really a weird love/hate kind of thing. Still it kept them close to one another.