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At 6' 2" he was well built, mostly attributed for his love of boxing and wrestling. He was physical. Dark blond hair contrasted with dark blue eyes that shone was a sparkle more often than not leaving one to wonder what were his thoughts. Few responsibilities befell him being on his own and not accountable to anyone but himself. He filled most of his time with his training in the courts that took him in during his wanderings. Until that is, he reached sixteen and women started following him. Who was he to complain? He learned another art with so many willing to teach him that would find him in trouble. Trouble became a way of life. Was he overly concerned? Not really. He was use to being in one scrap or indiscretion after another. Such had him packing, sometimes just fleeing, from a court he was presently in. He was gaining the reputation of being a scoundrel, a flirt, a rogue, a charmer. Then on the negative side, a cad, a user, one with a temper, wild, careless. What was his response to these stigmas? He laughed. He could. Maybe he would eventually change his ways. Maybe.

"Find the Cur." Were words Logan was use to hearing as he escaped out the backway of the kitchen of a castle. Just the clothes on his back and a few coins in his pocket he was off to the next county post haste. His surname gain him high places in where he would stay but his stays never lasted more than a year. An orphan, a nomad, with no place to really call his own and a family he missed greatly. During that great battle he saw his own father and mother slain, the whereabouts of his brothers and sister unknown in the slaughter. He was dragged off as a prisoner but had escaped in the confusion.

He had circled around coming back to his homestead a day later to find it flattened, demolished. The bodies that laid strewn were not even recognizable for the massive carnage. He knew how clan wars went and so high tailed it out of there or be the next victim for they would come back to make sure. He never heard anything more on his clan other than they had met their demise that day. Even he was believed to be dead as one of the sons, nameless. It was probably better that way for if any knew he had survived he would be hunted down. It was another reason he never stayed overly long in one court and always with an ear for any of the Dempsy faction of the Kerry Highlands.

Within the courts of the castles that took him in he went in training with the guards and gradually knights. He had skill and proficiency and it was a desire of his to one day make the Dempsy clan pay for the death of his family. It was this thought that drove the lad and gradually the man he became in that extra effort always put forth in his training. It was boxing, however, he had a passion for along with wrestling in matches when held. Most had been for sport of the courts to witness and brought him fleeting fame in the duration. The fame would bring its own trouble in its wake. There was something about a well toned muscular man, sleek in sweat with a handsome face to go with it that caught the eye of many a lady, single or not in a base desire. Logan had all those qualities along with an intensity of passion when he fought that served well in other areas. Virile and hot blooded was what found him in trouble not any streak of meanness such to clash with nobles.