[Geminex]

Reposting this, cause if I edit the original, it'll just go under. I've discussed all this stuff with Raiden, he's ok with it.
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Name: Yamato Tetsuo
Side: Dark
Race: Human
Age: 29
Appearance: Skin darkened with soil and ash, and branded with symbols of shame. Head shaven, scalp bare. His eyes are a dark, dark brown, his teeth blackened as well. Wears loose-fitting black robes that hide his movements and his weapons.

Weapons: A single, lethally-sharp dagger, along with a single pistol-crossbow. Simple weapons, no enchantment, but steel is steel, even without magical runes. It can still cut your throat.

Special Skills:
Shadowlife: Tensuo lives in shadows, with shadows. He can hide in shadows to misdirect his foes, move quickly in them and speak through them. The deeper the shadows are, the stronger his power. Don't fight him in the dark. Or indoors. Or in the forest.

Dynasty Resources: Assassins, Spies, Favors. Money. The legacy of generation upon generation of crime lords. They're spread out, but Tensuo can call upon them, find out what he needs to know, or have a certain enemy removed. (I'll mostly be using spies here, to find out stuff I shouldn't be knowing, but hey... Maybe, just maybe, there'll be an assassin waiting for you at one campsite or another... sleep well, now. Though I'll probably also contact you OOC, if I wanna send an assassin after your character.)

History: The legend goes that his ancestor had sworn loyalty to the demon lord at the time of the final clash between the two sides, commanded a contigent of human forces, and was one of the few Dark-side humans to survive said battle. Not to survive it voluntarily, mind you. He was defeated in combat, wounded, left for dead in the Light side's last charge. He came to hours later, aching, wounded horribly, his side defeated, his honor sullied. He had let his side be defeated, had fallen, had failed his lord. Tetsuo's ancestor had been a very fanatical man, very devoted to a cause, and this cause had been, in his eyes, worthy. And so, there it should have ended. His blade had still lain where it had dropped from his fingers and, with some effort, his ancestor had grasped, stood, swung it around until it was pointed at him... paused for a moment, trembled, felt regret, such regret, fear and then determination. The thought that filled his mind as he threw himself on the blade was that, even if his lord was dead, his honor would be saved.

Only it wasn't. The blade shattered, and in the light of the setting sun, the first few rays of moonlight, the fires of the last few torches, reflected in the shards of the blade, his ancestor had seen... something. Something that made him change his mind. Sign? Omen? It was unknown. But he turned from suicide, and knew, knew, that he had to survive, be ready. His lord would return, he had to be ready. Fragments of steel littered the bloodstained ground around him as he turned away, wept at a broken lord, a broken blade. And broken honor too. Because his sword had broken, when his lord had touched him through the failing light and the rising shadows, he hadn't been forgiven. He'd been called, but not forgiven. And he had to answer that call, no matter the cost. Even if it cost him his honor. So he abandoned his name, started going by Yamato, founded a dynasty.

A dynasty wreathed in shadows, that never used swords, that had no honor. But powerful nonetheless, adept at leading, at making deals. They gathered strength, out of sight. One son a generation, each father teaching his heir what had to be done, and how to do it. The line was without honor, their honor had been replaced by devotion to their Lord. If their ancestor had been fanatical, they had ten times his devotion, because honorlessness had festered and their line's shame had been passed on with the family history, and the teachings. So goes the legend. Mostly true, too.

And thus Tetsuo lived, fanatical, in the shadows, learning, first from his teachers, then from his father, then from the world itself, fighting his own, dark battles, gaining power where he could, applying what he knew. No troops to call his own, no sword to fight his battles with, but intigue and betrayal worked perfectly well, strategy and deception replaced fortitude and morale, and daggers could pierce what swords could not. Dark battles, fought in the name of being ready, being prepared. And then, when spies started arriving, and word started coming that a great evil had descended upon the land, a king of demons...
Tetsuo rejoiced. They were honorless. But goddamn, they were prepared.