He's malicious, fierce and quick. But what'd you expect from somebody with his shocking past. He was born and grew up in an ordinary family near the port in Svetlojarsk, he lived out of trouble until he was about 14 years old, but at that point life changed. He killed somebody by accident during an act of terrorism and was now alone, miserable and abandoned. His solitude didn't take long to drive him insane, he never expected he'd lose family to the apocalypse. The infected were ruthless and had no mercy on them, he was out in the city at the time looking for food when he heard is mother scream. He rushed back but he was to late, the infected had already killed them. He didn't see the body of his father though. Ward could only assume he was dead, but he had much hope he was still alive. He never strayed to far from Svetlojarsk... he didn't want to be away from his family. He had decided one day he would bury them in the Svetlojarsk cemetery, although while he was a small stocky Russian man had seen him. This man had ill intent for Ward. He ran up behind Ward and was about to knock him out when Ward spun around and punched him in the jaw. This man pulled his Makarov on Ward just as Ward pulled his revolver(he obtained by scouring Svetlojarsk for anything useful) on the man. They saw that there was no good outcome of a fight and both lowered their weapons. The man called himself Nikolai Kuznetsov. Ward introduced himself. Nikolai had a similar background but wasn't very open to telling stories about himself. All we know is that his family is dead as well. With the help this suspicious friend he could survive in this mad world. But with his talents and insanity he knew there was no escape from this hell. There's plenty to say about Ward Locus, or as most people know him, "Sketch", but the fact is, he's destructive and crude and that's just the tip of the iceberg. To make matters worse he's also demanding, thievish and morbid, but in an odd way his insanity calms him. Any healthy relationship is made incredibly difficult because of this and his miserable nature, which is too bad for all sides. Long unkempt hair clumsily hangs over a scarred face. Hooded hazel eyes, set deep within their sockets, watch cautiously over the city they've lived in for so long. Dark stubble gracefully compliments his hair. There's something incomprehensible about him, perhaps it's his perseverance or perhaps it's simply a feeling of indifference. But nonetheless, people tend to be curious about him, while making up bigger stories about him.