Alvin Nox Bergström

No one calls Nox 'Alvin', the name is too human to match his elvish looks. A dark grayed out lavender complexion adorned with white freckles. Silvery locks that frame slender features and do nothing to hide down turned elven ears. He couldn't deny his mother no matter how hard he tried.
He had tried so hard. Tried to hide, to blend in, to use his human name. Yet, his ears stretched every hood, his skin wouldn't pass as anything but unnatural, even in the darkest night and the freckles his father had passed on had the wrong colour.
In some regards his father had beat his mother. He wasn't as small as dark elves were supposed to be. He definitely wasn't that slender either, after all he was able to gain more muscle while working as a mercenary. Still, he didn't come close to his father's bulk, which he especially noticed, whenever the man hugged him during Nox's annual visit. Engulfed in your father's arms you'd probably always be a small child.

Another trace of his mother was to be found buried deep in his psyche. He would never admit it to his good, righteous father but the knights hadn't been wrong - he was indeed a tainted child.
He didn't feel bad when he broke someone's wrist or nose for a few hot meals.
There was no guilt poisoning his thoughts after he had held his spare dagger to someone's throat while reciting a message. Only the first time he had done this guilt had struck him like a crossbow bolt. Embedded itself deep into his heart poisoning his every action. He didn't take on work for a month, he starved for a few days after buying another dagger - a work dagger. He wouldn't dishonour his father's gift and teachings like this.

A boy born under a new moon with stars embedded into his skin. They call him Alvin first, Nox second. The child of a elven mother, whose name he is never going to learn. His human father, Ludwig Bergström, will never utter it again. But before that, for a year they get a taste of happiness.
Then, under another new moon Ludwig's love disappeared into the endless dark. Leaving behind father and son but not the gold and horse. She wasn't a moon elf, the other knights tell him. No, Ludwig had bedded and homed a scheming dark elf. Once her agenda had been fulfilled she had robbed and abandoned them. Nobody understood why she had let it come as far as bearing a child. A child she would leave behind.
They advise Ludwig to drown his tainted offspring. He breaks the sir's nose instead. No one takes his boy away but he is sent to fight down dark elf raids more often now.

Nox grows up around his father and the maids. The years move on, seasons change. In Summer, when his fathers freckles darken and his red hair glows in the sun little Nox would squint up at him as he swings his wooden sword. It's his mother's fault, she made his eyes more sensitive to light. He squints more and swings harder.
In Winter, when Nox's own freckles pale to match the snow outside he would curl up against his father by the fireplace and drink tea. In the settling dark of a snowy clearing in the forest next to home Nox conjures up his first magic light. His father drops the crossbow in surprise.

Life was good. The tower was home. Even when the other knights would frown at him. Even when he wasn't allowed to train with the other boys. Even when his father had to realise that he couldn't shield his son from everything.
At the lanky age of 14 Nox receives a dagger, rather simple but embedded with a beautiful moon stone. Unique like him, his father said. He had commissioned it just after his birth. The pretty dagger softens the blow of being told he will never be a knight.

The other knights could tolerate a scandalous elven child running around the tower with muttered insult or bemused silence. However, when the same child came of age they wished him gone. He wouldn't become a knight but he was old enough to move out after 17 years. Stubborn Ludwig refused to send him away, so Nox told him of his decision, packed his belongings and set out on his own.

The villages and towns he passed didn't want him either. Mercenary work put food on the table. He had learned the necessary skills from his father. He'd put them to good use.
So he threatened and roughed up for a bit of coin. He escorted merchants, lower nobles and the occasional shady group, granted they paid enough. A handful of times the army hired him. If he squinted enough, while he fought among the knights, he could pretend to belong.

After leaving home he doesn't settle, stays a few seasons at most. He doesn't fit in, he always returns to the road. If he keeps moving he doesn't have to confront the fact that there's no place for him.

☾ Shoulder scar from a arrow wound when he was 13
☾ You'll find Nox bathing in ponds and streams and sleeping in forests or fields during the brightest hours of the day

He keeps his coin purse and dagger on his person

His cloak is ultimately a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, held by a brooch

He uses a weak magic light in the dark and a flicker from a fire spell to get a campfire going