Torrent Sniper

The river should have killed Kael. As a fledgling, he fell into it from his roost and nearly drowned. Instead, the water became part of him.

He dragged himself to shore, gasping and soaked, and found magic stirring within him, a torrent that was cold, relentless, and precise.

His parliament called him cursed. Water magic was uncommon among wood owlkin, and his manifested with a violence that unsettled them. He learned to channel it anyway. He focused that flood into violent streams that pierce bark at a hundred paces. He became a hunter unlike any other, striking prey from impossible distances.

Then the Chaos Empire's legionnaires invaded Sylvaras. Kael helped defend the grove, picking them off with lances of water. The survivors fled with tales of a ghost in the trees.

When poison from a trapped dart seeped into his blood, his magic surged—cold, crystalline, utterly merciless. His own parliament learned to keep their distance after a friendly blade nicked his shoulder and he nearly blasted the wielder in his fury.

Mahkah Hemlig's conclave mercenaries won't see him coming across the Broken Lands. Or rather, by the time they do, it will be far too late.