You rest, forgotten, in a lonely corner of PARADOX SPACE. Though you once had a name, you left it behind after gaining minor notoriety and earning a title as a scourge to the forsaken and haunted cove you spent your early sweeps in. Your later years had you finding a small community that under great leadership and noble ideals became a TRUE REBELLION. You are called THE DUELLIST in deference to your prodigious combat prestige despite your disabled body and mutated psionics forcing you to lean into martial prowess, a skill learned in your youth education. This, in combination with your advanced tactical aptitude, made you defacto SECOND-IN-COMMAND of your impromptu rebellion. You have no interest or time for quadrants, as your whole being is in service to your charge, and the most radiant and righteous woman you have ever met. This is entirely unrelated to any feelings of romance, you assure those who ask, which is not very many people, for you have been dead for eons, after a grisly demise earned in service to your Lady. In your death, you continue your hobbies that you had in life to fill the endless free time. You are the sole practicer of the unique art of ELECTROSMITHY, manipulating metals psionically through electromagnetism to smith weapons and tools. You like to write HAIKU to stimulate your linguistic skills and you can play a MEAN CELLO. None of these could ever contend with your whole and unflinching, entirely platonic SERVICE to she who is the LIGHT OF YOUR LIFE AND DEATH. Your trolltag is callouslyCynical and you tend to Speak short of word and dignified of tone, which itself tends to create metaphorical space between you and those who would be close to you.