Knowledge is power, and power can do wonderful, terrible things to even the strongest of minds. While Marick’s willpower is tempered like a suit of armor, the weight of his experience as a former Shadow Lord, Combat Master, and Voice—and the sometimes overwhelming responsibility that that knowledge carries—has formed hairline fissures in his mind of iron. These “cracks” manifest themselves into small quirks such as his obsessive-compulsive tendencies to keep both his personal space and affects neat, orderly, and symmetrical. Paired with his hyper-attentive awareness to his surroundings, Marick has formed a habit of never sitting with his back to a door. He also tends to instinctively position himself away from windows while always keeping an eye on an exit. This makes it difficult to catch the head of the Master Assassin off-guard, but many have begun to question where Marick sits on the line between precaution and paranoia.

Beyond the cloaks and daggers, Marick’s true talent lies in his eerily preternatural attention to detail. Always alert to potential threats, Marick reflexively commits any room he enters to memory by noting every corner, shadow, and exit. He instinctively analyzes anyone that crosses his path, breaking down their posture, attire, armaments and any other quirks, tics or tells. This allows him to mechanically pin-point flaws in targets and can give him an edge in single or small-encounters with enemies. This talent becomes less effective when Marick's attention is stretched too thin over large groups or on say, a battlefield. While his uncanny Perception is useful for investigation, Marick lacks the heart or patience for unraveling complex schemes or mysteries and instead focuses on being able to quickly digest data and then apply it to his immediate surroundings and situation.

Marick learned early on that emotions cloud judgment. Through a combination of ruthless training and experience, Marick leverages his unwavering Resolve to maintain an altered state of mind that strips away his personal feelings and replaces them with a detached, zen-like calm. While this clockwork focus allows him to handle high-stress situations better than others—and can give him an edge in making split-second decisions under pressure—Marick lacks the ability to turn it off or to relinquish his control. He finds it difficult to relax, leaving him perpetually numb to even the most basic of comforts beyond his lone hobby of enjoying his collection of teas and herblore. Though bound by this cold, dispassionate mask, signs of soul-deep weariness slip through the cracks as he struggles with his own broken humanity to maintain the few relationships he has left in the wake of all the things that he's done.

Marick has always walked the line between right and wrong, dark and light. Caught between apathy and empathy, he chooses the only logical path he sees between them: the one that accomplishes the most and hurts the least. A life of pain and betrayal, coupled by loss, has made him wiser to this cold truth. He sees the world in a perpetual shade of gray and has learned that the only true things are the choices he makes and the consequences they bring. This clockwork pragmatism can help him sift through lies and deception to see the truth. However, his sight also pierces trust and camaraderie, which keeps even his few loved ones at a distance, his heart walled behind doors of stone and his mind trapped in all its knowing. Since the return of someone he cared deeply for, however, he has started to try and open up more.

Preparation and patience are just as important as raw martial ability.

During his time as Voice of the Brotherhood, Marick earned the name "Gray Fang" from both the Inquisitors that served him, and the Collective officers that opposed him. The former spymaster and assassin utilizes his knowledge and application of toxins and poisoned weapons to take down opponents or targets that were stronger, faster, or better equipped. He still prides himself on his ability to craft his own unique formula as opposed to common tinctures and recipes and fights with his wits first. His perpetually stoic visage and lets him mask his true intent, making it easier for him to wait for the precise moment to strike. This reputation, of course, often acts as a double-edged blade, as even those who consider him an ally or friend can not always discern his true meaning or intention.

Marick views the Force as a tool, not a crutch.

He has spent years honing his body into the perfect weapon: reflexes wired to give him a natural but freakish athleticism. Even when not in combat he moves like quicksilver, never taking two steps when only one is required. His training has made him adept at not just pushing his body past its normal limits with Amplification, but knowing precisely when to tap into it to conserve energy. Timing is key. And while he prefers his assortment of daggers, his study of Petranki turn any common object into a weapon makes him a deadly threat in close quarters — with or without the Force. Yet as he moves further away from his life as a spymaster and assassin, Marick has started to favor his lightsaber more readily and without as much concern for subtlety.