Amon Lightbringer
A product of his environment, Amon suffered the tragedies of his heritage from a young age. Born of the need to survive, his turn to crime was a necessity rather than a choice. Drawn to the call for aid from Torbin for his own reasons he created his final legacy in The Light Bringers, a movement against the oppressive caste system of Porion that would eventually cost him his life.
"He was an unpredictable scoundrel. Short on morals, but... but he had a heart of gold...deep down in there somewhere."
Personal History
Amon grew up in the slums of a small backwater town far away from any of the major cities of the kingdom. His parents having been driven out from their home due to the racist and ignorant townspeople, hoped to raise their only son far away from the closed-minded townspeople of their home and start anew. Unfortunately, no matter where they went, the looks, stares and judgment seemed to follow. As the years went by, Amon grew fast, and he was soon approaching his tenth birthday. Life in this small village hadn't always been easy for him. His family being the only Tieflings in the village brought on it's struggles. Often, he was mocked by the other children for his curly ram like horns, calling him goat boy or ram head. The children would also pull on his tail and make fun of his purple skin, saying he looked like a grape. All of that didn't matter now though, it was his birthday! He knew not to expect much as his family was very poor, but he was still extremely excited for his birthday. Amon's parents had been working extra hard just to make his birthday extra special, taking on multiple shifts at their jobs and doing any side work they could. Finally, the big day had arrived, and Amon was almost busting from the seams with excitement. Amon rushed home from school running by people and almost knocking down an old lady. As he rounded the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks and a look of horror manifested on his face.
The small shack he lived in had been defaced and he could see smoke coming out the windows and through the open door. Without a second thought Amon rushed inside and to his horror saw the bloody scene. Amon's favorite fresh fruit cake was knocked onto the floor and his mother and father lay next to each other, throats slit, eyes locked eternally to each other. Amon screamed and cried out, falling to his knees in anguish. Smoke and fire began to engulf the room and Amon began the choke. He didn't want to leave his parents, but he knew he couldn't stay there. As Amon made his way to the door, he stumbled over something on the floor. He looked down and saw that it was dark clothing wrapped around something solid with a red bow holding it together. Quickly he scooped it up, realizing this must have been his birthday presents and rushed out of his childhood home. As he stood in front of the burning shack, he unwrapped the clothing and inside he saw a small dagger with a strange etching of a mask on the blade. Wiping his tears from his face, he turned his back to the fire and walked away into the shadows of the night. As the years progressed Amon lived on the streets, having to lie, steal and cheat to survive. He quickly grew quite the reputation of being a master thief, well, master thief in a small village at least. Dawning black clothing and a wearing a cloth mask, he had made more than a few enemies in town, and realizing that it was becoming less profitable and more dangerous for him to stay around, Amon decided it was time for him to move on.
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