Severin grew up in one of the orphanages the Church use to develop desperate youths into dogmatic servants. Small in size, he was unable to stop the other boys abusing him. He was sure he was doomed to suffer all his days. Little did he know Hortulanus Lupercal, the orphanage’s administrator, saw in Severin a potential asset. For years, Lupercal observed as Severin withdrew into himself, stealing away to private corners to dismember small animals — always with precise incisions. When the boy turned twelve, Lupercal trained the boy in the arts of torture and execution and made Severin his personal executor.

The act of cutting flesh was the only thing that gave him a sense of control in a world that was too stressful for him to healthily cope. Severin’s ministrations often went too far, resulting in unreliable confessions or the premature deaths of those under interrogation. He was punished, which only led to a greater need to cut. He began taking victims off the street, trying and failing to keep it secret. When Hortulanus Lupercal found out, he decided his executor was a liability and sent some of his underlings to kill him. Severin sensed danger and survived the attempt, killing Lupercal’s men in the process.

During the battle, Severin’s mask was split, his face wounded. It was the first time in years he’d seen his own blood, and it was Tainted. One irrational hope drives him now: developing the Excidendi Immaculata, the “Perfect Excision” that could cut away even the Void. But it is not really the Taint he wishes he could excise; it is all his painful memories.

Lately, he has continued to indulge his compulsive behavior, but he has begun to consider joining the Hunters. Hunting offers plenty of opportunity to refine his cutting technique and, more importantly, they don’t ask personal questions.