Cecil

A one-armed frog hybrid once plagued by shame, who once seeked fame in a world of prejudice, but who now seeks only justice wherever it is to be made.

    Cecil always loved being the center of attention, and left his small community looking to make a name for himself outside, with his great showsmanship and skills in entertainment. However, he learned the hard way why his kin resided so far away from the rest of the land's inhabitants. Constantly being named a monster and aberration, he hid away, lurking in the shadows, seeking what little company he could from other outcasts. As miserable as he was, he found comfort amid the other undesired folk.
    But this comfort didn't last for long. A purge was carried out, and those who weren't able to flee were captured, their fates unknown, and better left that way. He managed to escape in time, although at the cost of losing an arm, with the rest of his body burdened by despair alongside misery. Cecil wandered the land aimlessly, hidden away from the sight of others. And thus he found an old armor, empty within of body, but charged of soul. He couldn't help but notice and admire the worn down, but still remaining elegant look.
    And so it dawned on him: it was the armor of a legendary hero, whose tale was told throughout so many generations and across so many regions: Argent the Seasoned. Clad in his new vessel, taking on the mantle of a figure whose very existence was contested, Cecil was finally able to achieve his dream, although by using a dead man's name and suit.

    However, as he began to use an already rusted armor, replacing various parts as they began to break down was a neccessity. Though he initially paid no mind, it eventually dawned on him how the previously crumbling suit had been completely swapped out with new parts. Mythical relics worn down for the benefit of blasphemy, he succumbed in terror, in realization of what was his own doing. Though this melancholy went on to plague him for seemingly interminable days, it was eventually this event which would finally lead him to achieve truth: It was never the armor the one who originated tales of heroism, but the man clad in such.
    If Cecil were to be one worthy of inheriting a legacy compared to those of gods, he had to be one capable of prolonging it. Thus, determination to preserve the pride of not only his hero, but himself as well, replaced the desire for fame as the fuel which fed a being not unlike an eternal automaton dedicated to justice.

 he/him