[b]Name[/b]: Aymon Nawarin
[b]Age[/b]: 300
[b]Race[/b]: Elven
[b]Gender[/b]: Male
[b]Profession[/b]: Empire Soldier, Mage Catcher
[b]Appearance[/b]: Aymon was inscribed with Elven face tattoos upon birth, marks of his family. Grown he has long brown hair that goes past his shoulders, high cheek bones with emerald green eyes. Since he is or was rather a soldier of the Empire, he remains beardless, with his imposing 6’1 well-muscled physique to help put the fear in the God-King’s enemies. Returning to the world after death he wields two elven katana’s and deep green, loose fitted, steel armour.

[img]https://pre00.deviantart.net/b1cd/th/pre/f/2011/168/c/d/elven_warrior_by_einhajar-d3j4yli.jpg[/img]

[img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/e2/c4/9a/e2c49a9554f14a65434d2be97630d9a6.jpg[/img]

[b]Revnant Ability[/b]: Time dilatation and master swordsman. What is perceived to others as the ability to move with immense speed, Aymon can tear through his enemies in a mere moment by slowing down time, this is also not restricted to battle but (for the moment perhaps) can only be used for a short time (lol). His prior average swordsman knowledge has turned to mastery, allowing the elf to dual wield two swords at one time

[b]Personality[/b]: Before his death Aymon was a cold, unrelenting killer. He didn’t speak often and when he did it was only in small amounts, blunt and abrasive. He hated himself, hated what he did and what he represented but this life was all he knew. The elf plays his cards close his chest, often trying to read and suss people out before speaking, he does his best to ensure you don’t know how he feels.

[b]History[/b]: 
There was once a time when the name Nawarin meant something, hell, Aymons father, Virion, had even heard an Orc speak their name once, the half-witted creatures they were. Together he and his wife bore three beautiful baby boys and four gorgeous little girls, all perfect, powerful mages. The family was a testament to Elven nature and superiority.

At least that was the case until their little abomination came along. Aymon was born like any other, gifted with the tattoos of his family’s name across his face they all waited for them to glow with the extraordinary wonder of magic. One year turned to two, then to three and four before the question finally came about.

What if he was born cursed? What if the boy was magic-less?

What would their community say? How could they face the other Elves? There was an expectation for them to uphold, they couldn’t simply let Aymon roam free and tarnish what they had worked hard to maintain. They couldn’t send him out into the world either, what if he were to return? The tattoos would identify him immediately. The family came to the decision to keep the boy inside, raise him as a servant to the family and never let him leave. They would tell others he had died, a great tragedy that only served to boost the Nawarin name, while telling him that he was born to attend to their every need.

Aymon was only ever content with this in his early years, happy and filled with life the boy cooked cleaned and assisted daily with whatever the family needed. It took a few years for the question of why he wasn’t allowed outside to crop up. Virion took the opportunity to explain the dangers of the outside world and how only great people blessed with magic could survive its horrors. They were doing him a favour by keeping him safe and allowing no one to know he existed. Warped, Aymon understood, wishing he could change things so that his family didn’t have to bear the burden of keeping him safe.

That change came but not in the form Aymon wished. It was a winters day like any other, the boy was only twenty (a mere speck on the timescale of Elven lives) when, while preparing dinner from the family, he noticed that they were out of firewood. 

This was it! He thought.

If he could prove he could go outside and live, he would show them that they didn’t need to constantly care for him and maybe, just maybe they would be proud. While out gleefully chopping wood, a human family came across Aymon. Taken by surprise and fearful they would kill him he ran, though not getting to far the elf tripped on a root and partially knocking himself out. He came to with the humans taking care of him, when he questioned why they had not killed him they laughed, explaining the war was long over and they wished no harm.

Before Aymon could question any further there was suddenly a green blast, knocking down the mother. It was Virion and he had just killed the human woman! The human father brandished his sword and charged in a fit of rage but Aymon’s father dispatched him easily with a fireball, reducing the man to ashes. Virion berated the young elf, asking him how he could do this to his own family after everything they did for him! Aymon’s father finished by fireballing the little girl,

“Look at what you made me do! You’ve killed them all!”

Aymon was taken back to the house where he was beaten mercilessly. The family told him the truth, that he was the monstrosity and that they had kept him away from the world for the protection of themselves and others. Aymon rebelled all he could but he was no match for these powerful mages. The beat him, humiliated him into submission.

This continued for the next 60 years until the great war. The family spoke of the “God-King” recruiting non magic elves for his cause and by this time the boy had grown into a spiteful and hate filled man. The first opportunity he got he ran away, joining the Empire’s Army and taking the fight to the mages himself. Soon war engulfed the land; Altar’s army was all but unstoppable toppling the mightiest of kingdoms. Aymon had finally found his calling, a place to be accepted and his real home. He had learned how to draw in mages during battle, he had learned how to tire them and while weakened, kill them. The war was ferocious but quick, before he knew it the Empire was victorious and now it was just days filled with hunting down the mages that remained.

Scattered and broken, the elves hid like rats but it was ultimately useless as the God-King had his own mages, terrible disgusting husks called “The Unseen”, that would find any and all who wielded magic. One day Aymon caught a lucky break, he was given the names of one of his brothers to track and return to his Lord. It was all too easy capturing him but on the way back they got to talking. His brother told him that their parents were caught long ago and that they were turned into husks that seek out mages. His brother asked to be killed rather than turn into one of them. Aymon did not believe him, nor was he about to disobey orders but that night his brother tried to escape and so Aymon was forced to kill him.

It wasn’t until a few years later the elf got the chance to see how the Unseen worked. Entering the chamber he spotted familiar tattooed faces, albeit husks of their former selves. From then on the elf questioned everything, for all his hatred did they deserve this? Did the world deserve the evil that they committed?
 
Turn to the attack, the Unseen had identified an elven boy being held in the city and Aymon had been sent to help kill two birds with one stone. He managed to catch and corner the family but the boy, his green eyes reminded him of himself at that age, full of hope and love. Aymon asked the father to kill him, take his horse and flee the besieged city. The father obliged.