Scene 1 - Introduction (Bernie)

It was another dreary day in the Mist, the chakra encrusted clamminess keeping both ninja and civilians of the village on their toes. As if it was really necessary at this point. He had learned quickly on that people who didn't watch their back every waking moment and asleep had an unfortunate tendency to not live long in this place.

Fucking weaklings, the lot of them.

When the boy had first arrived in the village, his body had been all but ripped to shreds due to the storm barriers he had to get through. He had only enough energy to lie on the ground pathetically. bleeding the very last of his lifeblood into the sands sands that smelled of fish guts and feces. He had washed up somewhere in the sewage vicinity of the island and those who had found him had seen fit to leave him there, giving the dark haired boy his very first taste of what the village was all about. They had reasoned that if he somehow survived, he would have a place among them, and if he did not, a kid's skeleton was kind of like a fish's, it could rot in the sands too.

That was two yeas ago, and the very fact that he stood here now, at the Mizukage Monument looking up towards the face of a dead man proved that he had what it took. Kindness was rare in this shit hole, and yet he had attracted some in the form of the old man who had "rescued" him. All such acts were punished in Kiri though and the old man had met his demise. At least in his dying breath, he had confessed that his motives were not born from care or consideration. It had endeared the boy to his savior.

Almost to the point of wishing he hadn't killed the old bastard.

The seven year old had almost physically felt himself grow stronger as his guardian died, gasping when air failed to pass through his punctured lungs before giving up with a final wheeze. The next day, according to the Mizukage's decree, everything that had once belonged to the miserly deceased had been his killer's to claim. Not that the old man had much. A shabby hut, some coin saved in a pillow case and a name.

It was the last the boy had found most useful.

From that day on, the lost boy had adopted the identity of Dol Havard, and over the next few years, that was exactly who he became.