Liu has the lithe, athletic frame of a trained monk, but his body is crisscrossed with jagged scars from Githyanki blades. He wears a simple, tattered tunic and his long black hair is tied back in a utilitarian knot. His face is perpetually shadowed by a poorly shaven stubble beard and a gaze that flickers between deep sorrow and burning rage.

I have been isolated so long that I speak little, and when I do, it is with a harshness that reflects my inner turmoil. I find it difficult to trust others, viewing the world as a place that only takes away what one loves.

Liu was the result of a union never meant to be, a half-elf abandoned by parents who viewed his existence as a burden. He was discovered on the steps of a remote monastery and raised by a kind-hearted master who taught him that discipline was the path to inner peace. For decades, Liu found solace in the repetitive motions of martial arts and the silence of the mountains, finally feeling as though he belonged somewhere. That peace was shattered in a single night of blood and silver fire when Githyanki raiders descended upon the monastery. Liu watched in horror as his master was executed by a Githyanki knight. He barely escaped with his life, sustaining numerous deep cuts that have since turned into thick scars covering his limbs and torso. Now he roams the lands, a shadow of the monk he once was. He is torn between the serene teachings of his fallen master and a dark, growing need for vengeance against the invaders who took everything from him. This conflict has curdled his spirit, leading him to believe that only power and the elimination of his enemies can provide the safety he craves.