Here's what I scraped together.
[Hider= Kean][b][color=#1CE678]Picture or Description-[/color][/b]
A pale, lithe figure that walks with an odd bounce, as if ready to break into a run at any moment. A strong nose juts from his face and his eyes are grey slits of flint. Hair and beard are scruffy and largely unwashed. Some blades he wears plainly visible, others less so. 
[img]https://i.imgur.com/nVIdyjn.jpg[/img]
[b][color=#1CE678]Name-[/color][/b] Kean Jossun
[b][color=#1CE678]Age- [/color][/b]28
[b][color=#1CE678]Gender-[/color][/b] Male
[b][color=#1CE678]Race-[/color][/b] Human

[b][color=#1CE678]
Backstory- [/color][/b]
As early as Kean might recall, he had always been mystified with his mother’s tales of her youth, and they instilled in him a lust for travel that would last him the rest of his life. She was, or rather, had been, a noblewoman, see? Daily, she was surrounded by exuberance and wonder, but her fondest memories always seemed to be of the Rose Gardens, her family’s burial site, where huge rose bushes would grow from the graves. New life from death. It was as though they never truly left, as if part of them was preserved there to watch over those would come after. That had been until his father had charmed her away from the high life. Kean wasn’t sure what his father did before, but he became a shepherd after his birth.

Family life was good. Living near Eastgate, they were never truly poor; his mother had stolen some wealth before she left, and his father had money from somewhere, but it was skint enough that Kean did not get spoiled. Most nights they sat around the hearth and sang songs, often inviting neighbours over. His mother had the most beautiful singing voice he would ever hear, and his father’s hands became a blur when he got at a fiddle. That’s how Kean liked to remember them; smiling and surrounded by music and friends. Happy. 

On his tenth summer, curious changes began to take place, beyond those one might expect for a boy of his age. It seemed he had the innate ability to wield magic, and a disposition towards levitating things. Toys, pottery, chairs. Rumours began to spread but it was kept hush. People knew what happened otherwise. 

For a time, he went undiscovered. Until a nearby farm burned down. Another local boy was taken for this, but it also brought Academy’s attention, and eventually they followed the thin trail of loose lips and bought words to find Kean too. A story you’ve likely heard before, since it’s all too common. They make it appear like you have a choice, but everyone knew that was a lie. Only five years, but woe are the fools who don’t give into the pressures applied to them by those with power to stay on for more. 

[i]Fleeing[/i] from the Academy after just three years, Kean was hounded by people trying to bring him back, because he may have also broken some laws. He spent time homeless, until he was rescued by a travelling circus, where he became and unrivalled sword juggler thanks to his levitation magic. 

However, our pasts have a way of catching up with us and Kean was no exception. Chased through a dozen or more different occupations and names, he wound up spending his longest stint as a bounty hunter, learning to put his magic to more offensive use and honing his swordplay. 

But it wasn’t always so black and white, and after a string of bad runs, he quit. Finally, he had enough money and time to return to his childhood home. It had changed much since he’d been there, and his parents had moved. They were now behind the church, resting in the graveyard. 

It is unknown what Kean did after that, but a year later he found himself involved in the war, as almost everyone did, but he found himself having to deal with more humans – deserters, bandits and other opportunists of ill repute – than he did actual Scorned. The families he helped often tried to pay him, but he always refused. Over time, he became something of a folk hero, a champion of the common man.

Then he got wind of the Emperor’s all and saw an opportunity.

One way or another, it would end.

[b][color=#1CE678]Magical abilities- [/color]
Levitation/telekinesis [/b]
Since he left the Academy early, his powers are not as developed as they could have been. He can perform, localised feats of levitation on objects, not people, within a ten-foot radius. During his time as a juggler he developed an awareness of the area, forming an acute sixth sense, using his mind to feel outwards so that he is conscious of most things around him within this radius. Lifting takes stress on his body, and the heavier the object or faster he moves it, the faster he will be exhausted. He can lift a maximum of roughly twice what he is capable without magic. If his concentration falters, the effect is broken. 

[b][color=#1CE678]Combat abilities-[/color] 
Singing Swords[/b]
An expert swordsman in his own right, his natural abilities can be further augmented with his magic that he has developed into a unique fighting style. Acting like longer-but-invisible limbs, Kean can use his magic to wield additional swords that will float around him within the ten-foot radius and strike fast and hard when needed, becoming a whirling dervish of unforgiving steel. At his peak he could wield an additional six blades, but he seems somewhat out of practise right now, and can only wield two at most. This tactic is meant to overwhelm with sheer aggression, as it can be extremely draining to sustain. A slightly less impressive, but no less useful utilisation would be to strengthen a blow or guard, or keep a firm grip on his sword. 

[b]Fitness[/b]
Kean is physically fit and therefore has above average strength and endurance. He is also a modestly skilled acrobat, picking up a few odd bits from some other circus performers, though never dedicating himself to it. 

[b][color=#1CE678]Artifact of Dramoria-[/color] 
Amulet of the Lying Cat[/b]
A jade statuette in the likeness of a cat. It is fastened by a simple leather cord, and, when willed, summons forth a pale green, hairless cat the size of a large dog, with jet-black eyes, like shining lumps of coal that smoulder short trails of emerald smoke. It can tell when someone is lying and informs the wearer thusly. Its combat capabilities are nothing extraordinary, for now, and the other affects of the amulet, if there are any, are unknown. 

[b][color=#1CE678]Motive- [/color][/b]
For crimes he committed out of necessity, his life had not been playing to his own tempo, and certain areas are much too risky to visit. A royal pardon though, would free the world up to him and let him explore as he desired. He also realises that the Scorned are a threat lacking any humanity, and even if though he despises what those who rule allow to happen, if they lose the war he knows it’ll mean oblivion. Part of him, right at the back of his mind, knows it’s a suicide mission, and hopes to find death, carrying guilt for deeds it feels impossible to repent for.  And another, quieter hope, is that he can ask his parents be interred in the Rose Gardens his mother so fondly spoke of all those years ago, a request denied to him once before, but when the weight of the Emperor was behind the request, he doubted it would be refused again.
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