Billowing columns of smoke saturated the air around Oerba's training field. Minor spells flew every which way, often hitting unintended targets, or colliding with the ravaged earth below. Scars were permanently etched into the training grounds, due to both a lack of keeping, and an excess of use. Despite the seemingly sparatic spell casting, and chaotic fighting, there was indeed a structure. There were two rings of soldiers, one was much smaller and was located within the large circle. On the outside stood approximately 30 men, while the inner circle contained around half as much. Upon command, every soldier in the smaller circle would stop fighting with their designated partner, and shift to their left, and assume their new partner. Soldiers on the outer circle remained stationary, until the command to fight was given. Due to the larger amount of soldiers on the outer ring, contestants from either ring were allowed a break every other fight, while someone else stood in for them.  ".............."

Cecil glanced down at his training partner. It hadn't taken long for him to submit, and take a knee, leaving the Dark Knight with ample time to catch his breath. Aside from a few considerably seasoned men, most of the soldiers here appeared young and stupid. Halfway through the exercise, many would abandon their form and simply swing their sword around madly. It didn't really bother the Knight, but it was clear who to avoid when given a mission. 

"Next!!!"

Name: Cecil Harvey

Age: 21

Weapon of Choice: Deathbringer (Sword)

Primary Role: Saboteur

Secondary Role: Commando; Close Range

Personality:Cecil dislikes working with others, and often avoids human interaction of any kind. To further distance himself from others, Cecil keeps his armor equipped at all times, only removing it to bathe in secrecy. Cecil is silent and generally cold on the outside, but beneath the layer of steel lies a more emotional man. He fights alone, for fear of losing a comrade, as well as the anguish that often ensues afterward. Cecil spends most of the day training in order to remain strong enough to fight alone, and lashes out at those that attempt to aid him.

Background: A once loyal, and valiant Knight, Cecil has since strayed from the beaten path. The King he had served succumbed to madness, and ordered Cecil and his men to ravage the near by towns. Being the loyal Knight he was, Cecil obeyed. Whenever the King asked him to do his foul bidding, Cecil obeyed. Soon, the loyal Knights once illustrious armor faded- stained by blood and guilt. After months of ravaging the land, and oppressing the commoners, word of revolt began spreading around. It wasn’t long before a mob stood at the palace doorsteps, weilding torches and pitchforks. To greet them, was a wall of archers, and a sole Knight. Before the raging commoners stood not a man, but a Demon, cloaked in the comfort of Darkness. What was white was now a malicious black, craving for blood to sait its thirst, and flesh for its hunger. What Cecil didn’t know, was that behind the crowd of commoners, was a force of elite warriors from a neighboring nation- which agreed to aid the revolution in return for land. The night was long and bloody, and by the end, Cecil was defeated. His King murdered, his comrades and platoons executed, and his loving wife, who worked him through the madness, was strung up and hanged. Cecil escaped before any harm was done to him, forsaken to roam the open lands alone. This is what sparked his dislike of comrades, and allies. In the end, Cecil would fail them, and they would meet a painful demise. After years of traveling, Cecil stumbled upon a distant land, one that he was unaware of. On the Dark Knight’s horizon laid Gran Pulse.

Writing Sample:Screams, blood curdling screams, echo throughout the catacombs of his mind. Indiscriminate faces flash before his eyes, all are strangers but they somehow seem familiar. Scream after wretched scream, the noises too vivid to ignore. They yell loud and louder until they are silenced by the ripping of flesh from bone. Soon all is silent, aside from the ringing of a recently used blade. Cecil  gains vision of himself in the distance… Only.. it isn’t him. Cecil from before all of this began stood awestruck at the defeated masses, beside him was his wife, clinging desperately to his arm. “No… Don’t..!" Cecil said to his old self, casting his blade aside and running towards the pair. "You beast!" The other Cecil said, whilst drawing his blade. "Fade into Light!!!" A flash of light blinded the real Cecil, ending the horrors.

Cecil’s eyes darted open, and he sat up from his sleeping position. The inside of his helmet bid him good morning, along with the humidity that comes with prolonged use. Tendrils of Darkness rose from the ground, as Cecil slowly stood to his feet. Years of fatigue and sorrow creaked from the armor, as it reluctantly began to move. It took Cecil a moment to clear his mind, and figure out where he was. Once he spotted the city in the distance, he remembered.  "Time to settle down.. And get rid of this damned sword." A gruff and angered voice wafted from the horned helmet, like unsettled dust moving for the first time in years.

Mun's Timezone: GMT -5:00

Mun's Skype/MSN: [Yes, see MSN page]

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