Bing-yu is a tall, slender high elf with a sharp, angular face marked by several thin scars from street brawls. His long dark hair is tied back in a messy topknot, and he wears dark, battle-worn chain mail partially covered by the tattered remnants of a commoner's hooded cloak. He carries a beautifully crafted katana that looks out of place against his grimy, urban aesthetic. His eyes are perpetually narrowed, looking at everyone as a potential threat.

I am an educated fool who knows the weight of every coin and the price of every life. I don't treat people like punks, and I demand the same respect in return. I am cold and calculated, always watching the exits, but I feel a deep, burning sympathy for those trapped in the same gutters that raised me. I pray in the night for a salvation I am not sure I deserve, living each day like it's my last because in my world, it very well might be.

Bing-yu was born in the rotting heart of a great city, raised not by elven scholars but by the unforgiving cobblestones and the gang lords of the slums. He spent his youth as a set-tripping banger, learning that life is do or die and that power and money are the only gods worth serving. Despite his rough upbringing, he possessed a keen elven intellect that allowed him to master the philosophy of the sword from a fallen master who saw potential in the gutter-born youth. He became a samurai of the streets, a warrior without a lord, walking the valley of the shadow of death with a blade in his hand and a gleam in his eye. Now twenty three years old, Bing-yu wanders the world as a lone mercenary. He has seen too many of his friends lined in chalk and has spent too many nights seeing himself in the smoke of a gutter fire. He realizes that the violence he perpetrates often hurts those he wishes to protect, yet he knows no other way to survive. He walks a fine line between the honor of his training and the necessity of his upbringing, forever an outsider to both high society and the common criminal element.