Aonair bas Calon

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• Vital Stats

  • Name: Aonair bas Calon
  • Gender: Male
  • Played by: A-Man-Only
  • Race: Remakin
  • Class: Bandit King
  • Alignment: Chaotic Evil
  • Deity: None
  • Age: Long Forgotten
  • Body Type: Muscular
  • Height: 6' 1"
  • Weight: 192 lbs.
  • Complexion: Pale
  • Hair: Black
  • Eyes: Hazel
  • Handedness: Ambidextrous
  • Scars: Many

• Description

  Cold, ruthless, heartless. These are all things attributed to Aonair yet none fit for certain. Broken, that is the best word to use. While some would say he is emotionless, the truth is he is so filled with it he has been made blind. Many call him evil, yet does what he does for justice. A twisted justice to be sure but justice none the less. Some say that he can not speak yet that also isn't true. It is just that speech is not needed, it has no use. He can not say what he feels and how cold he has become. He must show, he must act. It is his only expression, his only freedom.

• Biography

  Hafan, a small village located in the East. Populated by a few humans yet mostly by Remakin. A large Remakin family had lived on these lands as far back as they could remember. Their line was famous for hunters and defenders of the village. Yet in the peaceful and prosperous times they have had the family has lived a more basic life of farmers. They were happy and they didn't want anything to do with what was happening in the rest of the world. Sure they would have trouble with bandits every now and then but that was easy enough to solve with some payment here and there. Their family grew with time and their third boy was born in these happy times. They named him Aonair and like his older brothers he was strong even in youth. He spent the early years of his childhood playing and learning the land to become a farmer just as his Father and brothers did.
  
  After his first horn he was initiated into becoming a man. Taken on a hunt with his Father and brothers he was given the task of bringing down a deer so the family could eat. At twelve this was quite the daunting task for the young man who had never killed anything before. With bow and arrow in hand he stalked through the forest trying to find what prey he could. His Father and brothers waited at the treeline for his return as he went deeper into the woods. With each step he took he found that sunlight was finding it harder and harder to shine in through the trees. He had always heard the stories of large beasts when he was younger but he had always believed them to be false.. until now. Now he could see how something ferocious could hide within this place.
  
  He quickened his pace wanting to be done with this as soon as possible but ended up tripping over an exposed root. He fell forward onto his chest and as he started to get up he looked out and saw a deer just ahead of him. Raising his bow and preparing an arrow he readied himself. Finally he let the arrow fly and just as it was about to impale the deer in it's neck something terrifying happened. Something that looked like a massive beast pounced on the deer and the arrow that he had shot landed in it's back. With a bone crunching snap he heard the deer's neck break in the beasts jaw as it looked back at him. It's eyes showed nothing but untamed killing power as it dropped the deer and charged at him.
  
  Frozen in fear Aonair watched as the beast grew closer and closer. Each second passed like it was an hour as he could see the beast salivating in anticipation. It was then that he felt something burn inside of him. As if his soul had been set on fire. In an instant he dropped his bow and charged forward at the beast with only an arrow in hand. He could hear himself breathing so raggedly as he got within a few feet of the beast. It pounced at him yet he dropped and slid like he knew it was going to do so. As it passed over him he stabbed the arrow into it's side and holding on pulling himself onto the beast by it's fur. The arrow he had held onto broke and he than grabbed onto the one protruding from it's back.
  
  Pulling the arrow out he looked to the base of it's neck and with one quick motion stabbed it down into it's spinal cord. The beast fell limp and Aonair sat atop it as he continued to breath heavily. He looked down and watched as his chest heaved up and down so slowly. His hands ran down and pressed into the bloodied fur of the beast before coming back up and spreading the blood all over his face. It was such a soothing feeling and as the blood touched his lips he licked at it. The taste of the beasts blood was so delicious he could barely keep himself from trying to get more.
  
  Slowly he got up off the beast and grabbed onto it's leg pulling it with him through the forest. After a few hours he came out of the treeline covered in blood and hauling the beast. His family was there fearing for him until they saw him. At first they were surprised but they than cheered for him helping him bring the beast into the village. Everyone in Hafan celebrated Aonair and his triumph, holding a grand feast for him using the meat from the beast he had killed. That night Aonair had changed, he was no longer a boy afraid of the dark. He was a man who had been tested by blood.
  
  In the years that followed he gained a lot of respect in the village and his family added another. His new sister Alicia was a warm welcome to the family, the daughter that his mother had always wanted. As Alicia grew older she soon grew rather close to Aonair, her favorite brother as she liked to say. Soon enough they were inseparable as he taught her how to farm and live as they always did. They were a proud family again, respected as they were in the past. But that was going to change drastically before they knew it.
  
  His sister was nearing the time when she would grow her first horn while Aonair himself had already grown his third. She was barely going to be considered an adult yet already she had many young suitors seeking her hand in marriage. Aonair made sure that nobody tried to take advantage of his innocent sister, always her protective guardian day in and day out. After a few months her trial for adulthood was only days away. The family was busy preparing and the village itself was helping as well. Maybe it was that reason why nobody saw them coming.
  
  In the middle of the day as Aonair talked with his father they heard the screams. Rushing to the western side of the village they found bandits killing everyone they saw. Arrows flew through the air hitting people as they ran and Aonair quickly rushed forward at the bandits. He ran straight into a bandit and knocked him down. Grabbing the man's sword he stabbed it down into him before going after the next one. As the blood he spilled landed on him he found himself breathing harder and harder. His sight went dim as he only saw the next enemy in front of him to kill.
  
  He killed as fast as he could yet they continued to come, one after another. He felt the first arrow stab into his shoulder which made him stop and fall to his knee in pain. In this moment of pause he heard it, a bloodcurdling scream which drew his attention back behind him. Turning around he watched as bandits surrounded his Father and Brothers who were trying to defend his mother and sister. He felt his chest tighten as he raced towards them his breathing getting even more ragged. The bandits attacked his family and he watched as Rondan took a blade to the gut and slowly fell down with wide eyes.
  
  As Aonair cried out he felt a sharp pain in his leg that made him fall down. An arrow had struck him just below his right knee and slowly he got up stumbling towards his family. His father tried as hard as he could but Aonair could see the fatigue in his face. He couldn't stop the spear lunged at his chest and in the end was dropped to the side with blank eyes. Aonair gave out a scream of anger as he tried to move faster yet felt another arrow stabbed into his back. He nearly fell again but kept himself moving. His eldest brother Tondar was fighting like an animal to protect his mother and sister yet like an animal was put down by an arrow to the neck.
  
  Aonair knew his mother and sister were defenseless now and tried to run. He tried as hard as he could ignoring the pain he felt as the arrow ripped through his skin and muscles. He was almost there when he felt that familiar pain stab into his other leg. The arrow dug into his left leg and he fell down to the ground with a cry of pain as he looked up to see his mother flailing a sword about to keep the bandits at bay. Pulling himself against the ground Aonair tried to reach them but only watched as his mother was stabbed through three times with different blades. She fell limp to the ground as the bandits then turned their eyes to his sister.
  
  He crawled and crawled pulling himself through the blood ridden ground. He was so close, he could see his sister crying and reaching out to him. He raised his hand to try and grab her yet his hand was stomped on and crushed beneath a boot. He looked up and watched as the blade went through her neck. It seemed like forever, watching the blood slowly spill out. He could see the life slowly fading from her eyes as the tears stopped. Her head fell to the ground stopping just in front of him, her eyes frozen looking at him for help. He gave out a scream of anger and anguish as the bandits around him laughed and kicked at him.
  
  "Look at him. All these things think they are human... act like they are human. Well what about those horns huh? Why don't we make you look human if you are going to act like it so much." He heard them say and his next screams were filled with pain and terror as they took their blades to his head and slowly broke and ripped the horns from it. "There we go. Looks human now don't he. At least he will die like what he pretended to be." They all said before they left him there. He could feel himself dying as he looked forward at the face of his little sister. The blood from her severed head was leaking from her neck and slowly running down to him.
  
  He didn't have the strength to try and move his head as the blood started to seep into his mouth. As the blood went down his throat he felt that strength returning to him. He could move his head slightly and he wondered what was happening. Yet the blood tempted him even more and he couldn't stop himself from pressing his lips down into the puddle of blood forming. He drank down the blood with vigor as he felt his body slowly being lifted from it's pain. Pressing his hands into the ground he pushed his body up and slowly stood looking out at his village with a blood laden face.
  
  He looked down at what was left of his family, the dead bloodied bodies all around him, and he couldn't stop himself. He grabbed a knife and went to each body cutting it open and drinking it's blood. He did it to each of his family members and anyone nearby before he finally fell to his knees and cried. He couldn't take it, this horrible feeling. He slowly stood up and walked away. He walked away from that village, that family and that life. He no longer belonged there. He was no longer Aonair, he died there that day. Yet deep in his heart he swore, he would have vengeance. He would kill them all.
  
  He set out into the world, traveling from place to place. He didn't know exactly what he was going to do, or how he would get his revenge. It was after the second month of traveling that he felt that need. He felt an urge for the red liquid he did not want. He didn't mean to, he tried his hardest to fight it. But in that tavern, in that darkly lit room. That young woman was so kind, she was so nice. She cared... at least she acted like she did. She went with him to his room that night... probably expecting something entirely different than what she got.
  
  He remembered stabbing the knife into her throat. He remembered ripping out the skin as he placed his lips on the reddened surface to drink the blood. He savored each drop before he realized what he had done. What horrible thing he had just done to someone so nice... yet he couldn't have survived without it. He couldn't have, he knew he couldn't have. She gave him the gift of life with that blood and he thanked her for that before he left her there in that room. He left that small town behind and set out on the road again. Though he found himself strong again, maybe even stronger than before. He picked up a sword in his travels and started to do what work he could.
  
  Helping others and seeking his fortune where he could. Yet every once in awhile he would find himself going crazy. He would be so desperate for that blood. He went into trickery to get it. He did whatever he had to. And each time he felt less like a man and more a beast. He didn't know what to do and he found himself feeling more lost. Than one night he came upon an older Remakin woman, one of his kind. He told her of how lost he felt, how maddening his life was without giving her too many details. She spoke that he didn't have any markings to protect himself from evil spirits. After hearing what he said she offered to give him the tattoos she said would keep his mind in check.
  
  He spent a week with her, day in and day out she tattooed his body. In the end he found his whole body covered in strange markings that appeared as chains. She said they would hold the inner beast at bay and it gave him hope. He thanked her for everything she had done and left with her blessing. At first he did feel better, he felt as if he were free through these chains. Yet within a week he found that he thirsted for blood yet again. Crushed that they had not worked and seeing it all as a betrayal by the woman Aonair traveled back to her house and in the night slaughtered her. He drank her blood over and over again until he was full.
  
  It was that night that he decided he would no longer fear what he had become. He decided to embrace it, to become the beast he felt he was. He set out into the world again and with his blade he began a ruthless campaign against life itself. He would walk into villages and slaughter them all, drinking the blood that rained down on him. With each kill he felt himself strengthened, the blood making him even more bestial. The years passed by and in the time he had made himself much stronger and better. He wielded blades dyed red by blood and wore armor he had crafted for himself. He had covered it in horns and spikes since he could no longer grow his own. He embraced what he saw as the inner beast.
  
  He had taken on the name of Aoram and found information leading him to the large group of bandits that had attacked his village so long ago. They were the cause of all this, of everything. He sought them out in the Middle Mountains and in time found their small base of operations. It was an old abandoned fort, a little rundown. He sat atop the hill and watched it until nightfall. In the moonlight he pulled out his gleaming blades and forced his way into the fort. He killed them as they slept and killed them as they awoke in fright. They ran in terror at his frightening visage and the animalistic breathing he gave.
  
  It was a bloodbath. He spent the entirety of the night bathing in the blood of those that had made him bathe in his family. He relished in the thought of his quest being complete, that he was no longer bound by anything. And it was here that he looked around and decided. This would be the turning point, as he had killed those that robbed he would become the robber. It was in his nature as a beast. He would rise in the food chain. He couldn't hold back that urge. He set out to the nearest bandit groups and demanded they join him. Those that didn't found themselves slaughtered and their blood used to sate his thirst.
  
  The rumors soon spread and many groups came to him. He had the fort rebuilt and the men trained. He was no ordinary bandit, he was no ordinary beast. He was the King of the Beasts, the King of the Bandits. All the people who thought of themselves as civilized would learn to fear him as they feared the night. He would show no mercy, no regret. There was no room for feelings. There was no room when the thirst must be quenched. The blood must run and it must run deep.