Full name: Clyde Saradit

Gender: Male

Age: 58

Eyes: Bright blue

Hair: Jet black

Birthplace: Chi'Sou

Birth season: Summer

My hometown was known as the hidden country of Chi’Sou. It was a matriarchy built into the mountains of the area now known as Tibet. It was a country that believed in its own independency and neutrality and did not intend to meddle in any international politics. Power in the kingdom was based around family House’s and your status depended on what your family has done for its country.

I was born into a family of mediocre status. No royal blood flowed through our veins, nor were we known to be criminals. There were no great acts of heroism in our family tree, but we were happy, and proud of our long line. I grew up innocent and happy like any other child. My father, Locke Saradit, worked as a soldier of low ranking for the kingdom army and because of this, it took him to many exotic places. I remember so often him telling me stories of his marvelous adventures. Especially to the Three Kingdoms of Kugnae. I never got to really know my father, but I loved him dearly. I was proud of him and idolized him as a strong, reliable man.

I always wanted to be like him, and when I came of age, I immediately began training charismatically so that I could finally stand beside my father as a fellow soldier. However, as the children around me began to improve in combat, I stayed the same. I was very disheartened by this but what hurt more was my fathers look of disappointment. He never told me he was, but it was clear in his expression. It made me train harder, but no progress was ever made.

I continued to do my best, not really knowing of anything else I could possibly do. One fateful day would change all of that. The very core of Chi'Sou was attacked by ghost-like apparitions The forces that pushed forward against us were neither man, or beast, they were something worse. People were calling them "Zibong". I wasn't sure what that meant at the time, but the very mention of it would make everyone quiver.

They were relentless. Each skirmish against them was a slaughter for our numbers. My father stepped into the spotlight as a competent warrior and strong leader during many of the bloody battles. Our family became proud, and was ascended to a Noble-Warrior family of the kingdoms. However, nothing we did could stop the relentless invasion of the Zibong. The remaining citizens were pushed back to the palace where our final stand would take place. Everyone knew that this was where they would die. All of the children were put into hiding as a last attempt of safety. A soldier asked us to pray for them.

Our chants were interrupted by the screams of dying men. We couldn't help but open our eyes and witness the horror that was going on. My father, side by side with other desperately trying to wade off their enemies. But to no avail. The hidden kingdom of Chi'Sou fell. The children and I were safe from the battle, it seems we weren't noticed. While they cried and wept for the loss of their families, I wrapped myself in hate and self-loathing and vowed revenge. Taking a piece of a fallen Zibong with me, I began my journey.

So my hunt began. I searched and fought for every minute peice of information as to where the Zibong were, trying to trace the path of carnage. After five years of bitter traveling I heard they attacked Three Kingdoms of Kugnae. When I arrived, I found that they were defeated. I grew insane with the thought that I was unable to attain the revenge I longed for.

I fell to a strange illness. No doctor could seem to diagnose it. Uncontrollable twitching and trembling was the first of my symptoms. Soon enough, I was full-out talking to myself. incoherent gibberish. I grew hostile to all forms of life. Muscle spasms were the worst of my symptoms which left me incapacitated with pain. It was believed that I was possesed. I was growing weaker and weaker and was about to die. I lost all will to live and the only thing that truely seemed to give me strength was my hatred and thrist for revenge. I met someone that would change my life in my dieing breaths. He said he knew what was wrong with me, he said he name was Sabot. He told me that I was afflicted with an illness we are all sick with, but there were answers. For some strange reason, he was able to come close to me. He taught me of the Buddha, and my training began shortly after.

After years, I learned to control my emotions, to channel my hatred into loving passion. And with my Master's guidance, Monkhood became my saving grace.