NAME: Les Endir, He Who Hunts in Silence
PRONOUNS: He/Him
MAGE CLASS: Shadowmancer — Walker Between Light and Dark
LINEAGE: Undead & Ethereal → Werewolf
SUBTYPE: Shadows → Assassin
ERA PLACEMENT: Era I — Post-Veil Fracture, ca. 2180–2225
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In the ruins of the Lunar Accord, where silver blades outnumbered words and the stars wept ash, a name surfaced without sound — not whispered, but known.

Les Endir was not born in a cradle nor summoned from the Veil. He awoke beneath a blood-slick tree in the Ravenspine Wilds, breathing shadow and memory, with no heartbeat but the pulse of vengeance. Whether raised by fang, forged by moonlight, or resurrected by unresolved fury, none can say. What is known is this: he walks with the silence of the betrayed and kills like one who remembers everything.

A Werewolf by blood, but one bound to neither pack nor moonlord, Les Endir bears the curse of shifting form — not as a gift, but as an affliction tempered by purpose. His transformations are not rage-fueled frenzies, but controlled acts of predation, honed through a code written in lost dialects and blood-runes. Fury, to him, is a scalpel — never a storm.

As a Shadowmancer, he weaves the dusk between realms. His spells bend the eye, still the air, and erase all trace. He is not illusionist nor trickster — he is absence given shape. His magic is silence made flesh.

But even silence bears motive.

He hunts. Not for coin. Not for war. But for those who shattered what little honor remained among the kin of claw and crescent. Once, he was part of a warband sworn to protect the northern sanctuaries during the Veil-War. They were betrayed from within — bound and burned by their own. Only Les Endir endured. He made no vow of revenge that day — only stillness. It is said he waited ten years before slaying the traitor, whispering nothing before the final blow. What passed between them is unknown, but the killer never screamed.

His assassin’s path is solitary, yet littered with myth. The Pactsworn call him The Last Claw. Children in the Eastern Marches name him Wolf-That-Walks. Some say he cannot be killed so long as the moon casts shadow. Others believe he is a shadow — the Veil’s answer to unchecked cruelty.

He has turned down alliances, abandoned titles, and left circles of power in silence. But when a cause aligns with justice — or vengeance wears a noble mask — he may appear. And when he does, the killing stops not in chaos… but in stillness. Like wind ceasing before lightning.

To stand in his path is to find your last heartbeat measured in heartbeats not your own.
To earn his favor is to survive long enough to know he once spared you.

He is fury without roar, a wolf without pack, a shadow without master.

Les Endir, He Who Hunts in Silence.
The moon watches him. The night obeys him.