Zid's backstory!

Zideous Arionnias grew up in turn of the century, born in 1896. Growing up around this time was difficult, as many of the more oppressing laws came into play upon his people. When he was old enough, he read into such things as 'The Souls of Black Folks' by WEB Du Bois to learn the way the world of his time worked. His parents, Sothias Arionnias and Tina Arionnias, instilled a sense of culture and taught him on the world. He grew up literate, and a sense of purpose. It was from this upbringing that lead him to join the United States Army,  apart of the 15th Regiment of New York, of the National Guard.

Once World War 1 had begun, America seemed to be sitting in it's lonesome, sticking to it's isolationist ideals. It wasn't until the Zimmerman Telegram, that Zideous was given his shot. He attended the newly created special training camp for black officers, put together by President Wilson and the Central Committee of Negro College Men, and went into the war as an officer. He felt he had something to prove for his people, to show that they could be just as good as the others. When he arrived, he, like the rest of his brothers in arms, would be formed out of the 15th Regiment, made into the 369th Infantry Regiment.

Arionnias initially was relegated to support roles, along with the rest of the regiment while the US decided what it wanted to do with the regiment. White soldiers discriminated against the regiment, and the 369th wasn't given weapons to use. Eventually, on the 8th of April in 1918, he and the regiment would be assigned to the French Army for reinforcement. There, he experienced equality, along with his fellow soldiers. Given French equipment with US battle dress, he participated in combat operations in the Allied Counter attack, fighting across the Western front. He proved to be quite the shot, originally used as Support and Suppression man of his team. Supporting his soldiers with ammunition and directing the men under his command. Eventually, Arionnias would be approved for Sniper and Scouting, taking advantage of his steady hand, and trained eyes.

His life would be changed during one particularly nasty engagement in the Second Battle of the Marne, Arionnias was separated from his squad. Wandering through the french country side, he would find himself upon a house, damaged by warfare. After performing a sweep of the perimeter, and securing it, he advanced inside. He would find a couple of men dead and lying around, some hooded, some appearing as normal soldiers, the last of which dispatched by an armored man, who turned to him, bearing a cross over his chest. The suit was unlike anything he'd ever seen, and he simply stared in awe. The 'Templar' fell to his knee, looking Arionnias in the eyes, as he threw off his helm, a Caucasian staring up at him, slowly laying down. "You...soldier. This is my time. Come here..listen a while. Your destiny depends on it."

It was there, that the dying frenchman passed on his knowledge of the strange and occult, and a world that was more..strange, than he could have imagined. The man asked for a simple burial, and for him to carry on 'the fight'. He carried him outside, as the man directed him on how to remove his armor. Pulling the pieces off with care, he would take the frenchman's hand, looking into his eyes.
"What is your name, man? At least give me that.." Arionnias asked, his hand tight over the fallen Templar's.
"M-Milo. Bourbeau." he says quietly. He looks up into those eyes of the Scout, and rests a hand on his cheek. "I hereby pass on this title..to you. Inquisitor." the man reached into his shirt, pulling forth something to give to Arionnias - a badge. A token of office. Once the badge was taken..the man would fall limp...gone. While the war raged, Arionnias went into the house, found a shovel, and quickly dug a grave for the man, in respect.

The Captain found his way back to the front lines, carrying a sack, and a large bag over his shoulder. When questioned by his superior officer, he explained..everything. The frenchman fell silent, and asked,
"You..were chosen. Present the badge, if this is true?" he says, bringing his fingers to his chin in anticipation. Arionnias fished it out of his pouch, showing it. The CO took it, and examined it. Handing it back, he nudged his head toward the trench. "Say nothing of it. It is yours. We are required to respect tradition."

The rest of his time in the war, during the six month campaign, was hard fought, participating in the Meuse-Argonne offensive with the US troops.  Clearing trenches, and taking heavy losses in his regiment. His regiment pushed the farthest out of any unit, something he took great pride in being apart of as the collective group of his people proved they could do just as well as anyone.

Eventually, the 369th, now known as the Harlem Hellfighters, were relieved, and sent back to the Vosges Moutains. There, they pushed toward the banks toward the river Rhine, and were eventually relieved on the 12th of December. Opting to stay in France for a little while, Arionnias picked up the culture and helped in rebuilding, enjoying his time there as he found he was respected for his ability and for being a human being. He learned more of the Templar he would be replacing, and even sought aid to fix up the armor, adding a few embellishments to it. Alas, his home called.

Arionnias moved back home, once again stationed within the 15th Infantry of New York, and home to his place in Harlem, having been awarded a Distinguished Service Cross. He took up residence, and found that he could pursue a job as a private  investigator. Using his skills of  gun fighting, training in the army, and the suit of armor provided to him by the fallen Milo, he sought to put these skills to use, to study and defend humanity from the threat of the supernatural, in it's forms. An old buddy of his from the war, Phillip Jackson, remained in contact. He works for the police department as a detective, and is his trusted source of information, as well as a procurer of items, doing a little bit of 'trade' on the side. Arionnias now moves to the district to start his life of Investigation and protection of his fellow people, and set an example of the African American man in the 1920s.