"I shall fight you Shikana. I am Patrick O'Dwyer, The Irish Samurai!" Patrick approached the Griffin and asked "May I see your profile. Here is mine. In no dishonor, have you been approved to battle?"

Name: Patrick O’Dwyer, and The Irish Samurai
Age: 36
Race: Caucasian (Irish)
Sex: Male
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown
Weight: 68 kilos or 150 lbs
Height: 5’11”

Weapon: A Magical Katana aiding in strength and speed
Armor: The Spirit of the Land of his Fathers and agility

Personality: Calm, Strong Willed, independent, angry
Appearance: Wears a White Kimono, covered by a Green Hakama and sword at side.
Bio:

NOTE: History has no real meaning here
If you are English, no hard feelings. I have nothing against you guys!

During the time when England controlled Southern Ireland, the British Army would show no mercy to the villages of the Irish peasants. They would march and burn every town in sight. In 1814 A British Commander brought his troops to the small but prosperous village of Tipperary.
Earlier that day
Kevin O’Dwyer, a blacksmith by profession brought his son to work as he done since he was 8. But today was a special day, his 12th birthday. It was the day that he could give young Patrick his present: a sword. This blade had been in the family for over 200 years. It was not Irish made, as during those times swords were not to be found, but it came from a far away kingdom, known as Japan. Going from merchant, to merchant, to merchant the sword traveled great distances. It eventually came into the ownership of Lord William James Hunterberry, a British General and Noble. When he controlled Tipperary, a man by the name of Philip O’Dwyer led a great revolt. Acquiring the sword during the revolt, O’Dwyer kept the sword and passed it to his son on his 12th birthday. It had been that way for years, and not Patrick is to get it. It seemed to Kevin that he could always do more with the sword than with his hammer and even the other swords he made. He also felt more at ease. When young Patrick walked through the door it would be the last time the sword was his. Upon receiving the sword, Patrick thanked his father and asked to run off to play with the sword. He ran up the hill outside the village and when he reached the summit he looked down and saw the little people go about their daily business. He played and fought with the imaginary opponents. He could do things he normally could not. He was strong, faster and more powerful. The odd feeling continued even when he dropped the sword to lay down on the ground to go to sleep. As he slept, the spirit of Irish Fathers past spoke to him.
“Patrick, you are the one who can save your people. The English will destroy us all! You must resist.”
“My father told me about the fools in the North who go on and kill any protestant they see! Then the Brits come and not only kill him but many innocent Irish too! I want no part of it!” screamed Patrick.
“If you don’t, the world we know of will be destroyed. Many English are good hearted, but there is one…one who will kill us all. He is not like most English in that he believes in the Dark Arts. Worst off, he has control of English troops. You are our only hope,” Spoke the voices.
“But why me?”
“You have the spirit of Ireland flowing through you. You must do this…”
With that Patrick woke but with different clothing on. Cloths he had never seen, ever. It was some sort of dress and weird wooden shoes. He stood up and saw a mass of red and white on the hill on the far side of town. In town the people were running frantically when shots from cannons came from the top of the other hill. Patrick watched as the Red Coats marched into the town, looting and burning. He watched until the stars came up and the British left to the East. He grabbed his sword without looking and ran down the hill as fast as he could to the ashes of his home. No one escaped alive. He saw dead men and women as he ran towards his father’s shop. When he arrived, he saw his father almost dead clenching a sword.
“Pat…rick. You…must…fight…them…he…is…evi…” with that Kevin O’Dwyer gave his last breath.
Patrick looked at his new katana and noticed that it was glowing green, which it had not before. When he drew the sword he noticed that it said “The Irish Samurai” on it. He remembered the spirits’ voices. And ran to the east.
The Irish Samurai trained for several years and then went to face the Demon General. His legend continues until today…

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