Mikah Nightgazer. of Abenoth and Renais

Name: Mikah Nightgazer
Birthplace: Iybraesil, Forest Village
Gender: Masculine
Race: Elven
Age: Nearing 63
Affiliation: Unknown, Himself (?)

Personality: Mikah is usually calm, quiet, and a recluse. All due to the fact that he has an undying hatred and seething taste for revenge on Orcs of all breeds and kinds, at times this rage clouds his judgement and usually get's him into a bad situation. Though once his inner walls has been broken down and opened, you would realize he isn't such a strange or bad guy just misunderstood to the point people confuse him for a fiend or freak, and honestly he wouldn't care for what anyone thought about him or his public image; Mikah has more pressing matters to satisfy the whims of mortals and plebs. 

Physical Description: Toned and agile he's had countless years of honing the skills he was taught to by his family and people, dancing through the foliage and trees, fighting with a wide variety of weapons and tools. Cobalt blue eyes that seemed to glow occasionally, long flowing ebony black hair, often shaven on one side to symbolize the part of himself still lost on that fateful day. Upon further inspection reveals a pale heavily scarred, |knife wounds, close dismemberment, bashed by a blunt mace, arrows grazing his flesh, tortured by numerous Orc tribes| both physically and magically burnt body that seemed to withstand what others most would call horrifying and unbearable to even see let alone having to think about what Mikah had gone through to earn those wounds and scars. 

History: He had grown up in the forests outside of their main city of Faer'val, only born shortly after the events of the civil war that had left the people and the land itself fractured beyond what had thought to be possible at the time, and even then things were only going to get worse for his people. A relatively average sized village that made it's living on the edge of the forests near the city, they usually only came to the Capital if pressing matters of resources or military action was needed as the people of Mikah's village were tough and enduring most forming their own militia's and hunting parties to sustain themselves. The firstborn of three other boys to a duo of parents that loved him and his brothers greatly, his father had been a warrior in another life now he spent his off hours hunting with the others making sure no accidents happened, mother who was also a jeweler and enchanter with minimal skills though had made somewhat of a living for herself in the city before meeting his father in a chance encounter, partway through the civil war they both ran away together to escape the madness starting themselves with a caravan of others fleeing the same chaos, and voila the village is now here today. 

Decades had passed with peace and prosperity as they built their scarce community and people back from the ground up. The months following up this point in time for Mikah had been strange and tense as nightmares and visions plagued him daily and when he finally laid himself to rest. These vivid encounters showed him awkward and archaic symbols that had no meaning or prevalence to the Elf, usually a voice or monstrous sounds followed these symbols. He was afraid to sound crazy to the others and even his family, so in turn he hid the truth from them and partially blames himself that if he told them earlier that they would of left or things could came out better, better than pure carnage and slaughter. Tordek was only so far from the coast of Iybraesil, the very same eastern side of the Island where Mikah had spent his entire existence roaming around, and when Tordek is usually mentioned the following can only mean one thing; Orcs. The Elven people had withstood Orc raiding parties in the past, defending them with what they could and even some villages succumbing to the brutal attacks by the savage race being wiped off and never to be seen again.

    One morning Mikah woke up like usual, though the night before had some meaning since the color of green was radiating from the very same symbols he kept on seeing. He attended to the usual chores and tasks at hand, old enough to go into the hunting parties, but not old enough to stop fishing from a nearby lake that had some fish in it |albeit not the fish that we imagine| and hopefully could get some extra food for everyone, hopefully. Within an hour of waiting on the banks of a dilapidated dock he heard the bellowing horn before he saw the cloud of smoke rising over the trellises from further inland, the screams of his people could be heard, his legs and arms pumping harder and harder until they screamed for him to stop, and even then the terror that surged within exploded tenfold as he saw giant green skins ripping apart loved ones and friends. Instinctively drawing the notch of the bow on his back he fired a multitude of several arrows killing two Orcs that nicked them in the head and the other disabled as it slumped to the ground gurgling in it's own blood writhing for anything to latch onto, "Mikah! Go! Find your brothers now!!!" was the last thing he heard from his father as he saw him battling three of the crude monsters at once holding his own with no armament save for the long-two handed sword he wielded. |a relic from the past| 

He searched and searched until coming on the outskirts of the forest, stragglers being hunted down and others fleeing with only the clothes on their backs. He saw the body of a woman bathing in her own blood, mouth and eyes agape with horror and pain; his mother. He ran to her body clutching it as tears streamed down his face like a waterfall, "Mother! Answer me! Mother!" shouted Mikah as he shook her lifeless body with sorrow aching out of him. Scanning his surrounding as hands turned into fists clenching with blind rage and primal anger, he wanted to kill every single last Orc that had set foot on this world, no matter if they were a child or a woman they had to die by his hand. He saw his younger brothers being run down by two of the beasts, one had already grabbed one of them by the leg and swung downward cutting him in two. That single moment broke Mikah forever, that action would forever plague his dreams worse than that of the strange symbols and monsters, and that moment is when The Curse awakened inside of him. 

Blinding yellow light surged out of his chest, a symbol burned into his skin that strangely resembled a fang or edged tooth. Both Orcs heard both the screams and noises that echoed from Mikah saving his two other siblings from being slaughtered like dogs, in a surge of energy and power he leapt forward through the air as the wind was behind him |figuratively and literally|. With a short dagger in one hand he twirled in the air like a bird, in a flash he flew past the Orcs both staring back at him wondering why he stopped and how they didn't hit him. Both of the greenskins then realized as purple blood flushed from their sides; they had been seriously dismembered to the point they slid at the side into two distinct pieces, "That was for Abelas, you scum!" he said spitting on their bodies. When all things were said and done, he grouped his surviving brothers with him and hoped for the best as they traveled together, alas this wasn't a happy ending type of story. The air grew thick as if it were weighing us down, the temperature grew cold and then blaring hot as time went on, and then sound of fabric and metal tearing at once combined with a blood-curdling roar, they all looked behind them as the veil of two different worlds were breached and a monster of time immemorial broke free; a Daemon. It was over twenty feet tall with four arms and claws that could destroy city walls, blood red eyes that stared at them like they were beneath it and just cattle to entertain and feed. Mikah shouted to his brothers within seconds, he knew he was going to die but at least he could give them a head-start to the next nearby town or village, getting ready in a guard stance he stood ready for it's assault, the burning Curse displayed brightly as the Daemon roared and danced in place. Mikah charged forward in the same leap and bound the Daemon did so too, with one swipe he was swatted into a nearby tree like an ant, his vision fading and hazy as the last sight he saw before he awoke to a World he would never walk the same again; a giant monster feasting on his only family left in the World, the only promise he made to his parents, to protect his younger brothers and he failed. 

Strength: ●●●○○
Endurance: ●●●○○
Agility: ●●●●○ +1
Intelligence: ●●○○○
Perception: ●●●●○
Willpower: ●●○○○

High Magic: ●○○○○○○○○○
Mana: 10/10
Abilities:

Passive Skills

The Winds Grace (Level I): So long as Mikah has the mana to supply an invisible aura around himself all of his movements whether attacking, defending, or changing position is increased by minimal amounts, if focused on harder he becomes progressively faster and more agile until virtually he is the wind, but by then he could fall into unconsciousness due to the amount of mana it would take to sustain the ability for longer than a minute at a time, mostly Mikah would use his tiny reserves to power the ability being able to just barely dodge that blade's edge or the arrow that almost struck him dead, also applied to the fact that he can strike faster if from multiple angles. 

Active Skills

Strike of Vengeance (Level I): Usually Mikah would only use this ability in conjunction with his famed and favorite blade |Fang| as he uses an ability that is more or less just a strike if you would see it once. See it again, usually you're dead. Sheathing his weapon with a hand on the grip he would channel his mana into the strike itself, releasing the power in any direction let's out a concentrated blast of energy and lethality cutting |depending on what was in his path at the time or who| through layers of armor, people, trees with expert precision. The weapon itself seems to jump in range an extended ten feet, but something more supernatural happens even less than a second after the blade extends; shooting forth in any desired direction |meaning or depending on his skill/concentration and the events surround him at the time of casting| the blast can curve, slash, puncture, shatter, or sunder anything within thirty feet. |though this is secularized to a direct one point of contact hit meaning it's not AoE or a quick attack, it's slow concentrated and has range, think sword sniper|