In the distant east, legends old as the trope itself have told of a day when celestial blood will consecrate the tip of the of the tallest mountain, the clouds will part and a baby orphan will descend from the heavens. This child, born on that certain day to uncertain parents will lead his people as a general and war-leader to do battle against a profane foe, and liberate the oppressed. In actuality, such folklore seldom becomes the absolute truth, and long since, most scholars have traced this prophecy to an antiquated nursery rhyme.

Regardless, on that same day, a nameless archon, sent to cleanse evil from the world, disdained their immortal existence and the futility of their purpose. Drawing their final breath, the archon took their own life by slitting their own throat, immediately stricken from creation. As their blood stained mount Ramegan, tales tell of a baby boy's cry, heard thundering from the summit, calling to the faithful living down below. Brought down from the mountain by the priests who have come to his aid, this vulpine-looking child, Heath, was set to be a messiah and was trained from a young age for a destiny he would never fulfill.

The boy would grow, learning from scholars, philosophers, and nobles, becoming highly versed in arts, poetry, tactics, magic and various forms of combat. Creating his own varied style of fighting, "The nine-legged fox", at the mere age of 11, he usurped everyone's expectations by creating a move-set and rhythm so complex to the uninitiated that certain experts themselves would describe it as too chaotic and utterly unpredictable. The involvement of bites and the usage of his fox-like tail as a hook or a trammel created the equivalent of an extra limb which most conventional styles of fighting have no way of defending against.

Through relentless meditation atop the summit of Ramegan, his birthplace, the boy attained knowledge few seek and fewer actually find, allowing him to trump his own mortality, and understanding the very nature of the world around him. Understanding finally, that the priests set him up as a figurehead to further their own greed, he grew displeased with his people, severing the prophecy and leaving for parts unknown, to search for some higher calling to match for his now-broken fate.

His body is graceful and sleek, without blemish or flaw, and bears not the tarnish of battle or injuries. Whether such feats are attributed to his divine lineage or his prowess in battle is debated to this day. The curse of age before him crumbles, and his soft skin is only gently covered in a glistening, golden fur. His vulpine tail sways and he would occasionally twitch his ears at the prospect of distraction. This ruse of attentiveness is seldom true to his nature, and he is at oftentimes seems as quickly as bored with his surroundings and company as he is fascinated by them at first. His very footsteps are like fingertips threatening to unweave a tapestry - the reality and wonder of this mundane life.

Often preferring to keep his anonymity under a humble Kasa and wrapped in martial artists' garbs, sightings of the infamous Heath have ranged from superstitions to reports of damaged property, larceny, and other unflattering remarks. In truth, he seeks nothing more than to find worthy opponents to test himself against, a challenge to topple, a rival to hate bitterly, a dame to love truthfully and a home to call his own.