Obscenely tall compared to his peers, O is wide as a house.  He is lean and muscular, and very quick for such a big man.  In contrast his face is blunted, thick jawed and browed.  His eyes are docile.  O loves a test of strength, but has yet to  discover any serious internal strength.  His back has the scars of the whip on it.

  O's memories of his homeland are mixed.  They are sunlight in small valley, and the taste of millet.  They are sweet mountain water, and the taste of blood from a broken lip.  O is half-ogre.  He comes from a valley with no name, and no one is certain how he got there, or who his mother was.
  He was raised by the crippled monk, Sozen, a hideous faced babe found swaddled in hides at his hut door.  Though Sozen was not ignorant, and O was not inordinately slow for one such dirty blood, O remains illiterate.  The only book he can read is the face of a mountain.  The only character he can write is his name, a four stroke character that he has burned into his biceps with heated iron.
  O's brow is pronounced, and thicker than that of a Kappa some would say.  He has two dull tusk like teeth, yellowed and decayed that prominently warp his lower jaws.  His hair hangs like a tangle of seaweed, and his face is black in the scum of the mines.  But O is no miner.
  O is the beast of mine number six.  His days are filled with the endless job of splitting great rocks with his pry bar, a valuable piece of steal.  With the fires that smelt the earth around him, so builds the heat of his rage.  He awaits the day when his tool and only friend will be used on the heads of his cruel masters, and waits and waits.
  O, above all, is a sweet creature.  He is silent unless spoken too, and loves animals.  He hates the mistreatment of asses and man with equal malevolance.  His temper burns long and slow, thanks to the teaching of the penitent monk Sozen, but O is afraid that his anger is growing greater than his heart.  He is afraid of what lies beneath surface of his own rage.  Is he the monster that he sees in the murky water of the mine pool, or is he the sweet creature, who once lived a free life serving the silent monk in the hills above the village which deserved no name?