She may have changed, but the mark which her betrayal left on my person has followed me here to this iteration. I made myself her champion, but this mark remains as a reminder of how she treats those who do.

[He'll stand up before the device, shucking out of his long jacket and unbuttoning first the black leather waistcoat he wears, then the royal blue shirt beneath. Pulling up the shirt to his armpits, he uncovers his torso - well-muscled, but also scarred, with a vertical scar of more recent vintage running up the midline and turning into the base of a V-shape, and below it, an older, more cicatrixed mark at his lower ribcage, hitting below the breastbone. He'll turn, showing that the mark completely encircles his torso, as if something sliced him in half.]