A short but stocky man stands here. A mysterious aura of Magicks surrounds his bruised and beaten body. In his left hand, he holds a large book of spells, written on golden parchment. He is in a deep trance of concentration, Studying the way of a Mystic, of the Ether. He seems very dedicated and serious to his cause. Dressed mainly in black, he stands before you. His eyes, you realize, are very strange, Swirling masses that appear to be made of something not of this World. One eye is a giant rift of Darkness, consuming his body. The other of brightly glowing Red, composed of pure flowing Magick. A large jagged Scar goes right across this mans forehead, A reminder of a mistake he made, one he will never make agian. This man watches you out of the corner of his eyes, seeming to trust no one, a lesson learned over time perhaps? On his left arm is a large, glowing Tattoo, The Etherstar of Zandar, the Ancient lord of the Mystics, Leader of the Mavens, and Protector of the Ether. The tattoo shows his beliefs, his hopes, His Life as it has become. He seems to phase in and out of vision - of existance, almost as if his beliefs were forcing his body to adapt to the world around him, the world of Ether.