This without a ponytail.

Born the fourth and youngest male child of the wealthy Whitemarch family, Tristan’s life has been planned out for him before he even popped out of his mother’s womb. Being the fourthborn, he was unlikely to ever inherit his Lord Father’s estates and titles, of which there were numerous and many. Despite the existence of the will in Renalta, the Whitemarch family has always been very staunch and traditional in its values; practicing the inheritance of the eldest son and believing that their blood should always be ‘pure’.

The eldest son, Josef, was bred to be the successor of the estates; the second eldest, Devan, bred to be Josef’s advisor (and replacement, should anything ill happen to the eldest). The third son, Cristoff was likewise bred to be a great - a commander of the Queens’ armies that would bring glory and honor to the name Whitemarch. That left Tristan, who would be bred to be Cristoff’s backup. The Whitemarches were nothing if not vigilant. This preset destination of life irked Tristan growing up. While he was charismatic and well loved by Whitemarch subjects; he never truly got used to the idea of command of an army.

Tristan had always been close to all his three sisters, Josef and Cristoff, but Devan (the second son) had always seemed to have no more than three words to say to him every time they met. He liked to skip training sometimes by lying to his master-at-arms that he had been called by one of his many elder family members. He had convinced his siblings to play along; sometimes Josef and Cristoff even brought him and his younger sister on hunts in the forests near their estate.

It was only a month ago when it happened. Josef was governing the estate in the stead of his father who had travelled away. His sister had sought him out and told him of something she overheard when she was evading her history tutor. She heard Devan talking of a plan with the captain of the guard; about how today was the day he would be assured of his birthright, and not that bumbling fool Josef. Tristan asked about the castle and discovered that Devan, Josef and the captain of the guard had departed from the mansion. To this day Tristan doesn’t know what excuse Devan had used to lure Josef out.

Tristan slipped out of the mansion using a secret passage that only the Whitemarch family knew, and he ran towards a stable situated outside the mansion where he acquired the horse that he used to secretly hunt with his brothers and raced to find his brothers. An hour of fruitless searching within the forest passed.

He heard a scream.

He was too late.

Steel rang on steel. He could hear someone laughing. Fear gripped him as he stared at the direction of the noise. He forced the horse to move, and then dismounted and tried to move as stealthily as possible. As he approached the clearing, saw his brothers fighting each other with swords; but Josef was bleeding profusely from a stab wound in the back and several more cuts. It was clear Devan was toying with him. The captain of the guard was leaning on a nearby tree, smirking. Tristan doesn’t remember sneaking away from them, or how he managed to get back into his room. He’s grateful he doesn’t remember Josef’s dying scream at the very least.

Devan and the captain returned hours later, where they claimed that they had been attacked by bandits and that they lost Josef as they galloped back. There would be have been suspicion if only Devan and Josef rode out and one returned, but with the captain’s testimony no one dared question the now-heir of Whitemarch. Tristan kept his tongue; he knew that saying anything would only earn his brother’s wrath and denial.

The day after they found Josef’s body, Devan got an anonymous note. Meet at the smithy tonight. If you are not there, the truth will come out, kinslayer. So he went, but not without guards. Those guards might as well have been rats for all the good it served him. Tristan fired his slingshot, hidden within a secret passage in the walls of the stables where he had hid for the past three hours. People underestimate the damage that a well-aimed sling could do. The heavy lead ball broke his brother’s skull with a sickening crack, and Tristan retreated into the secret passages.

It was two days before his brother died. The lead shot had cracked his skull and caused too much internal bleeding before the healers could come. It would have been more merciful had the healers just allowed him to die then and there. Tristan, however, felt a sense of wicked elation that justice had been served so cruelly. He was not in the clear however; his father found the lead shot that he used. Many other people used lead shots as well, but not many knew the castle so well as to disappear into its walls, which was what some of the guards had been claiming. His father inquired into the whereabouts of every person who knew of the secret tunnels, and only Tristan seemed to have gone mysteriously missing on the day.

His father confronted him; Tristan denied it. Both the lead shot and the knowledge of the passages led back to him, he knew, but his father didn’t have any concrete proof, and he wouldn’t accuse his son unless he was sure. His father was still very, very suspicious of Tristan though; sometimes he felt as if some of the servants were watching him more intently after his confrontation. One morning his father announced that he would be joining the Queen’s Blades, unbeknownst to him. He was quickly sent off the next day despite pleading with his father to reconsider. He barely had time to say his farewells to the rest of his family.

Traxilus was born during the first era as a child of the Imperium. His family was one of high standing in the courts and held sway with several smaller families. Theirs was a family of politicians, and as such dealt with making allies of everyone even those who would try to stab them in the back. The best way to insure loyalty and strong connections with another family was to have a marital bond, and to that end it came to be that Traxilus was born 11th of his family, with six sisters and 4 brothers before him. From the age of 6 he watched as the eldest of his siblings were married off to people they had never met before, and quickly he decided that this would not be his fate as well. At the age of 9 he, like any innocent and naive child might, went to his parents first to try and convince them out of marrying him off, his pleas fell on deaf ears, and he was told of the holdings he'd be granted as soon as a proper match was found.

This didn't sit well with Traxilus, who was afterall the youngest sibling, more accustomed to handling his own business, more independent from his parents who had always seemed to have less time for him, considering the eldest children needed grooming to become proper matches, and everything else on their plate. Trax wanted a way to earn his own way in life, and avoid the fate that so many of his siblings had. The answer came to him at the age of 14 and it came very close to the date of his engagement. There was talk of how near to the date they were getting, and Trax was understandibly nervous. This wasn't something he wanted, nor something he could adjust to. So in a moment of desperation he fled his parents estate, to the city, and enrolled in the military. While of course there were no rules against military men being married he had at least bought himself some time. The Legion of the Imperium sent recruits out into the wild for basic training, returning as men or not at all. His plan was that that might delay them for awhile, and from there it would be possible to be deployed as often as he could to keep them from scheduling anything. His plan was to work as a soldier until he was old enough to strike out on his own, and from there he could choose his own life.

However as he trained he discovered that he held a proficiency with the blade, and he soon came to outstripe many others in his batallion. He soon found that he was actually enjoying nearly everything about working in the military, and began to see more and more how he could continue to live like this. So he did. For the next 5 years of his life to be exact. It gave him the closeness of a family he never really knew from his home, and he was surprised to find how little it changed him. He was still as reckless as the 8 year old who took on bullies twice his size and lost horribly, only now he didn't lose. It was a strange feeling to feel almost utterly unchanged, and yet be different in so many ways.

It was a day almost like any other in fact, that Amanda opened the final Well of Power, and the Imperium fell. If someone were to ask him, Trax could tell you exactly what he was doing in the city as he felt it. He wouldn't be able to describe it exactly, just that it nearly put him on his ass. Instead he dropped to his knees. As he staggered to his feet. He noticed others in a similar state, confused and panicked. HIs training kicked in as he leapt to higher ground, commanding ease and calm from the civilians around him. He explained that while they might not know what's happened, they were at least safe, and from there they could figure things out. His family was there as well. At least some members at least, he felt relief for that. His parents might not have always agreed with his choices, but they were still his kin, and he was glad they were safe.

It soon came to light exactly what happened, and initialy Trax felt numb. He wasn't entirely sure what Maurie had done, but he knew enough to realize she had saved them all. He felt an intense sense of gratitude for that to be sure. Even as a large part of the Legion defected to join Florence and his cause, Trax stayed with Maurie to protect her, and keep the illusion alive. He became so trusted in his field, and so reliable with a blade that he was eventually promoted to a position of "Gatekeeper to the Empress" meaning anyone who wanted to reach Maurie tried to go through him. It was a strange feeling the first time he was killed, he couldn't comprehend exactly what had happened. They had overwhelmed him, so many at once, but he could remember the blow that put him down, and the look of the man who had done it. It still haunts him to this day, but as he awoke to face a new day, unscathed, he realized that it was only beginning.

In the span of 10'000 years almost anything could happen, and Trax experienced almost every sensation a man could. He was beaten, bled, and bruised more times than he could count, but he never abandonned his post, even in times when he was not attending his post he was usually found on the field of battle instead rallying troops, or attempting to gain some ground on the enemy. While he enjoyed the thrill it brought there was no doubt that these were dark times for the Imperium. They were weak, and the longer they stayed trapped the worse the situation would undoubtedly grow outside. Trax could see it in the eyes of some of the men he fought with. They looked defeated already, and while they didn't outright join Florence they might as well have done so. They'd been killed before too afterall, and knew that if the conflict stopped then they'd be at rest. Trax soon began fearing for his Empress.

It felt like a dream as he recalled the feeling that put him on his ass so long ago. The memory came rushing back as the feeling returned itself. Everything about it was nearly the same, but the end result left him feeling the exact opposite. He felt for the first time in 10'000 years very free, but also realized how much the world had changed. Once again he was a 19 year old boy looking to make his way in the world. He still retained position with the Imperium, but who knew how things would play out from here? HIs family had long since disowned him in the name of Florence, and he was too sure they wouldn't be eager to see him returning to their lives. He sighed realizing that even with as long as they had that time could not heal this wound, and decided that maybe his only choice was to return to what he had already been doing.

HIs Empress had expected as much. He returned to her as any loyal soldier would, and she thanked him for his service. She also acknowledged that continuing as her guard was no life for a young man like himself, and that he should be able to see the world that he was brought into. As such she suggested honoring the man who had enabled their return to the physical world and joined their ranks by swearing to protect and serve him in his travels. That man was of course Dean Hansen, who had recently joined the Imperium as Kouri's quest came to a conclusion. Trax was being offered the chance to travel with him in return for his loyalty to Dean, one of the men responsible for freeing the Imperium from their prison. He didn't give the notion much thought before accepting the offer.

The next 2 years were the best he'd had. He and Dean became almost as brothers would be. They developped a very free environment to speak in, and joke around one another with. Whomever they travelled with would comment later as to the kinship of the men. He was never made to feel as an underling or inferior. Of course whenever they travelled they were on business for the Imperium first, and it always took priority. ALl pretense of fun and games fled the moment the goal came into view, and the two played roles in many of the Imperium's victories immediately after its resurrection such as aggressive diplomacy in hostile lands, dealing with less than amicable "roadside-business-men", and most notably the acquisition of Animus, and West-Hold. The pair were consequently absent from West-Hold as it was retaken by Mercenaries, a fact they believe to be the exact causation of the loss. Essentialy the pair were a duo of the Empress' best fixers, being sent wherever there was an issue she believed would benefit from their expertise.

That all changed however when they were sent on a peacful diplomacy mission to Renalta early in their 3rd year of service. It started off well enough, the trip down had gone off without a hitch, and they were moving ahead of schedule. Once they arrived Trax was dispatched to roam the streets, and do as he please. He had noticed a shift in Dean's behavior on this trip, and felt worried himself too. That evening he barely slept. He heard the subtle sounds of approaching footsteps as Dean returned to his room. Traxilus left his own room to meet him in the coridor. He asked for an explanation of the day's events, but Dean wouldn't offer them freely. Pressing the issue he was able to extract that Dean would not be returning to the Imperium and that a courier had already been dispatched. Traxilus was nearly about to leave for home as he remembered his vow. He had sworn to the Empress to protect and serve Dean in his travels. Not the Imperium. He was stuck unless he was released.

He returned to Dean the next morning, and asked to be released from his vow, a request that Dean promptly denied. Anger erupted out of him and a fight followed. Knights had to be summoned to end the fight, they caused an extraordinary amount of damage to the Inn they were staying at, and they didn't speak for nearly 3 days. On the morning of the third day, Traxilus received word that Dean believed it would serve him best if the two of them kept their distance from one another and assigned him to work with the Blades. While this did not please him he also saw it as a more favorable option than them working together for awhile. He turned up to the barracks to find a rag tag group, and his heart sank as he felt abandonned by perhaps his closest friend.

That day was 8 years ago, he's been there ever since, and that brings us up to date with what can be described as his life.