“In the darkest hour, when common swords falter and wizards run short of words, the knight commanders stand firm. Their runes burn with Solarin’s grace, and their hearts beat with a courage that even the gods envy.” — Inspired commoner
-------------
• Leia played by shylarah • Kalowick played by BurningCold • Vincent played by Daxam • Ame played by LucidRain
Appearance: Leia has sharp features and thin lips. Her skin is pale, like she doesn't get enough sun -- although this is far from the truth. She has an athletic build from her years of training. She tends toward modest and hard-wearing clothing, when she's out of her armor, favoring blues, grays, browns, and black. She does like an excuse to dress up a little, but rarely wears actual dresses, preferring clothing that can be fought in if necessary. She is at home in her standard armor, which is a combination of leather and plate, easy to move in with practice but still providing protection to the important areas. She carries her sword nearly everywhere, a longsword with a blue-green stone in the crossguard and a tooled leather sheath.
ceremonial armor standard armor
Height: 5'7" Eye Color: blue Hair Color: tawny brown
Personality:
Leia is a determined and hard-working woman. She strives for excellence in whatever she does. She is competitive, and is constantly measuring herself against the bar set by her parents' achievements. She's friendly enough, but tends to be blunt in her words, which can be off-putting to others. With friends she relaxes a little, letting her guard down. She is immensely loyal to those who have her trust, and does what she can to support them. She has a strong moral compass, but she is also pragmatic, willing to do the dirty work when she believes it is required. She is level-headed, keeping her cool even in stressful situations. Failure and helplessness scare her, but her greatest fear is being forced somehow to harm those she cares about.
Background:
Leia is originally from a town east and a little north of the capital. Her mother Raia is a renowned sorceress and expert on the lost ruins, her father James a knight commander that served the crown. Leia discovered her magic powers at a very young age, and immediately her mother started training her. Leia is not her mother's equal in talent, but through extensive study she's learned a great deal. When she was seven, she and her mother relocated to the capital of Olenta, so that young Leia could start on her goal of becoming a knight commander. Under her father, she studied swordplay, as well as tactics, strategy, and logistics. Here also she had to devote herself to training, which she did with a will. After a few years under her father, she became squire to a knight commander named Agimund, who also had some wizardry background. At fifteen she took the test to become a knight, and passed with flying colors. Such was her skill that at sixteen she was granted a rune by the previous king.
When the king died less than a year later, Leia was devastated. She'd meant to pledge her life to the rightful king, and now there was none! Still, she continued her training in the hopes that one day the rightful heir would be found and take the throne. She devoted herself to her trade, so much so that she never really had time for a significant other. She's had a few flings, but that's pretty much it. Even after achieving her goal of knight commander at twenty-four, she's never really looked for love.
Leia was thirty when there came an attack on the Lord Steward Geraint. She was there for the attack, and even defeated one of the conspirator knight commanders. She was the first to suggest Kalowick become a knight commander himself, recognizing his loyalty and prowess in battle.
Rune Affinity: force Leia is able to move herself and others, as well as objects, with bursts of force. She uses this to fling herself forward, and to drag enemies towards her. Finer applications include jumping farther, slowing her landing on a long fall, and deflecting arrows or other blows. She can create shields and barriers if she is concentrating.
Skills & Abilities: Leia knows how to use most martial weapons, but she is most skilled with longsword. Leia is ambidextrous, able to fight equally well with her right hand or her left. This allows her to sketch magic spells with one hand while using her other hand to wield her sword. She is a sorceress, and has a signature spell that drains the target's energy to replenish her own. She knows a great number of standard wizard spells, and has designed a few of her own to buff herself and damage her enemies. She has a good grasp on tactics, strategy, and logistics. She knows basic first aid. She knows how to survive in the field. From building fires to hunting and foraging, she's learned how to get by on her own.
Additional Details: Leia has a lovely contralto singing voice, though it's not easy to persuade her to sing.
Relationships: Kalowick: Leia was the first to suggest he become a knight commander in the wake of his mentor's betrayal, recognizing his loyalty and skill.
Nickname/Titles: "Snake-Eye", "The Watchful", "The Green Walker"
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Appearance: Kalowick is built like an acrobat: his body trained to move quickly and to navigate rough terrains with ease. His pale skin contrasts sharply against the wild shock of dark hair atop his head, while his wry expressions and serious gaze suggest a man that is not tamed, merely temporarily restrained. The small, pale scar beneath his left eye is easily passed over in recognition of the sturdy leather patch that covers a large portion of his face. The serpentine color of his solitary eye matches the flairs of green that decorate the furs and leathers that he dresses in. Dyed feathers, claws and teeth are all affixed to his ensemble, as well as various pouches and vials containing a variety of herbs, oils, and what the trained eye would recognize as poisons and potions.
Affixed to the leather belt round his waist, a number of sharp implements hang in their sheaths. Some of these are for skinning fur or carving meat, but there is no mistaking the purpose of the black-metal short sword or its twin dagger. Despite these tools, Kalowick's favored weapon of battle is the wooden staff he wields. Coaxed from the depths of a generous tree, the dark oak staff is covered in faintly glowing green symbols, and tiny wild flowers perpetually bloom along its length before withering away to make room for more. Affixed to the top of the staff by leather straps are various charms made from precious stones, animal teeth, feathers and claws.
Height: 5'9'' or 1.75m Eye Color: Murky Green Hair Color: Raven Black
Personality:
Kalowick is a true believer. To commit to an oath is to stake your entire being upon the truth of your words, so when it comes to both his faith in the Alveria royal line, and his dedication to the Old Ways, there is no room for doubt. He is a man characterized by loyalty and conviction, and struggles to imagine what he would not do for the Bloodline.
He is thoughtful and witty, happy to trade banter but also open to reach others on a deeper level. Everyone is different, and so to a degree he does treat everybody differently, but respect is a constant he tries to adhere to. He truly does not believe that his station makes him any more valuable than the average commoner. After all, the dirt takes us all in the end.
Kalowick, thankfully, has not yet been put into a situation where his dedication to the Bloodline has come into contradiction with his egalitarian nature. Though it is true that he prefers to spend his time out in the field, rather than within Olenta itself. He makes the necessary appearances and occasional patrol, but if anything awakens Kalowick's wild side, its the presence of the power-hungry. Cities are full of people like that. More than once Kalowick has eyed the steward with suspicion from afar, even if their record is clean and their intents seemingly honest. You can never be too careful.
He carries himself with grace and poise, moving with fluidity as his solitary eye surveys the spaces around him. In his solitary moments, he will quietly sing the Old Songs in the druidic tongue as he perches atop a rock, rests beneath a tree, or strolls open fields and quiet city streets. The Old Way is not just a path to power, or a mantra to dictate harmony with nature. It is Kalowick's culture, and its practices live on in him even as the tides of time erode it. When he is old, and withered, and given all he can to the kingdom, the last thing he will have to offer is the wisdom and tradition of the ancient druids. It is a duty he takes upon himself with pride.
Those that respect Kalowick's Way and see the value in its continuance will find themselves in good company. Kalowick is a firm friend and a cunning ally, full of wit and wisdom. He's not beneath working with those he finds distasteful either, so long as their goals are aligned. His oath to the Bloodline supersedes any personal animosity he might feel.
Background:
Kalowick is descended from a community of druids that were welcomed into the kingdom of Alveria some two centuries past. Since this time much of the culture has faded from relevance and awareness, mostly kept alive only by small communities within the Greenwood. Kalowick grew up in one of these small settlements, which provided a large number of its able-bodied men and women to the Everbranch Border Post to become rangers of the forest. Kalowick himself was an eager student of the Old Ways.
He learned the Songs of Bark and Leaf from the Tree-Shapers, and how to use these songs to become one with the forest and bend its purpose to his own. He learned the Arts of Flower that use the bounties of the natural world to create healing remedies and balms, and he learned the Arts of Thorn that draw on nature's dangerous potential to brew poisons and paralytics. From the Hunters he was shown how to track, trap, and kill the creatures of the forest, as well as how to harvest each component of an animal so that its death holds purpose.
The Beast-Shamans taught him the dangerous Songs of Wing and Claw: communion with the animals of the world. How to summon a raven to your side and see through its eyes, how to compel a snake to sink its fangs into your chosen target, how to pacify a raging bear into compliance.
There are also the Rites of Rot and Decay, said to be capable of urging corpses to rise when bonded with the appropriate fungus, or to inflict a man with disease or sickness with words that corrupt the very air they travel through, or to command swarms of insects and baser creatures to harass and harm. These Rites Kalowick would only learn much later, and many are time consuming, dangerous processes.
Kalowick was only a boy when news of the king's death reached his settlement, and the course he would plot in life was set. He was an idealistic child, but also wise beyond his years, and as he grew from a child into adolescence he came to understand that without a strong ruler on the throne, the forest he called home would not be safe forever. And if war did come to the Greenwood, it would need someone capable of protecting it. The free time that he spent roaming the forest and playing with other children instead was dedicated to training with the rangers of Everbranch. Many of his own people were among their number, and taught him what they knew happily. By the time he was sixteen, he was a ranger in his own right.
A Knight Commander by the name of Varn Skyir took a liking to Kalowick after they fought side by side against a coven of rogue sorcerers that attacked their ranger unit while out on patrol. Kalowick unleashed the teachings bestowed upon him with ferocity to aid his brethren in quickly dispatching the spellcasters. His talent relative to his age and the conviction with which he fought and wielded his own power caught Varn's attention. Later, when he asked Kalowick if he'd ever killed before, Kalowick said no, but that it was easier than he thought it would be. Varn asked him why that was, and his answer was simple.
"I've discovered that traitors enrage me."
Varn, who was not a regular at the Everbranch Border Post, departed later that week. And Kalowick, after saying his goodbyes to his village and his fellow rangers, went with him. The pair traveled across Alveria together, ending disputes, hunting criminals, and slaying monsters. From the choppy waters of the Azure Expanse to the frigid heights of the Ironspine Mountains, Varn exposed Kalowick to the wonders and dangers beyond the boundaries of his forest home. Varn the Far-Traveled was already known through the lands, but as years went by, stories of his druidic apprentice, Kalowick of Green Paths, also began to circulate. The pair had a strong friendship founded on respect and trust, and Varn, a battle-mage that drew upon the power of the gods themselves to do battle, was able to offer unique perspective and guidance to Kalowick on his own spiritual journey.
During a visit to Olenta, Kalowick, now twenty, uncovered a dangerous plot. He had been immersed in the senses of a crow as it flew across the city, and chanced to spy a strange thing indeed. In a secluded corner within the gardens surrounding the Radiant Citadel, Varn stood among a mixed group of individuals. Several wore the finery and signet rings of nobles, while two others were armed and armored, each bearing, just like Varn, a lesser rune. Flying closer, he overheard talk of the kingdom's weakness and the need to restore it. The line was dead, their oaths were meaningless, and the steward did not have the strength to protect Alveria from its rivals.
Kalowick cut connection with the crow, and raced to warn the steward. His face was familiar enough that he was allowed entry, but as he sped into the throne room, what he found was a blood bath. Knights dead at the feet of Varn and his co-conspirators, and the steward guarded on either flank by loyal knight commanders. Kalowick saw Varn turn to him, and he saw him speak, saw him beckon for Kalowick to join him. But he could not hear him. His ears ringing, his face splitting into a snarl even as tears stung his eyes, Kalowick charged. This broke the tension for the others, and soon the throne room was erupted into battle.
Varn should have defeated Kalowick that day. He was more experienced. He was stronger, quite possibly smarter, and nearly as fast. Kalowick once witnessed him burn a hole through a wyvern's skull with a prayer and a single ray of sunlight.
Yet, Varn died that day, his fellow conspirators along with him, and in the coming weeks Kalowick's testimony sent no less than six nobles and a plethora of criminals serving them to the gallows. But how? It's simple.
Kalowick's will was stronger. He had faith in himself, in Alveria, and in the Old Ways. Varn had lost his way. Lost his faith. The moment he committed down the path to treachery, Kalowick would later muse, he sealed his own fate. Their clash, however, was not without cost. His right eye and the surrounding flesh is ruined, not burnt, but withered. Varn struck out at him with cold, necrotic fire that left the wound cracked and gray, almost petrified. Even now, if he were to remove the patch, one could see dark energy pulsing from the spiderwebbing cracks that run across the stone-like skin.
Kalowick accepts this toll. His dagger found its way to Varn's heart all the same.
Not long after, the Knight Commanders of Olenta discovered Kalowick's ability to bear a lesser rune, a fact they uncovered through correspondence that Varn also knew and was concealing. In light of his heroism and sacrifice, they instated the one-eyed druid into their ranks.
Since then, Kalowick has garnered something of a reputation for rooting out corruption in the towns and cities of the kingdom. That is, when he isn't continuing the work set before him by Varn. He was Kalowick's mentor still, even if he lost his way. There will always be more monsters to kill. Now, Kalowick understands both forms that they come in. A final lesson for the apprentice that surpassed his master.
Rune Affinity He is eligible to receive one. Perhaps it will unlock the ability for him to shapeshift, or command a greater degree of creatures outside the normal spectrum of nature. Maybe he will be able to use trees as a gateway from one forest to another. Who can say until he receives the rune?
Skills & Abilities: Arts of Flower and Thorn: The brewing of potions, oils and the like both to help and harm.
Songs of Tree and Leaf: With the right words in the Old Tongue, one can become one with nature and command it as an extension of their own will.
Songs of Wing and Claw: The ability to summon, pacify, or command natural creatures of the world.
Rites of Rot and Decay: Dangerous, distasteful methods to control corpses or inflict sickness. Only the Rites of controlling bugs and insects has ever been deployed or considered by Kalowick.
The Green-Walker: Kalowick has survival training in all manner of wilderness, with specific preference for woods and forests.
Snake-Eye: Kalowick fights with focus and precision, his fighting style guarded and evasive while biding time and energy to wear out his opponents before striking at weak spots.
The Watchful: He is comfortable leading in areas where his expertise is at the forefront, and is also happy to act in support and advisory roles to help guide the group and the current decision-maker towards the wisest decisions.
Additional Details: -Kalowick has a wide vocal range from bass to tenor when singing.
-His powers do work on aquatic creatures, but its harder for him to control.
Definitely down to fleshing this out with how he engages with other characters and if there is any shared history once more people post up their sheets! Let me know if you have an idea for something and I'll do the same!
Relationships: Leilani Suldevi: Leia was there the day that Kalowick intervened on Varn's plot. She watched him kill his master even as she slew one of her own former allies. Her voice was the first to suggest that Kalowick join the ranks of the knight commanders.
Given his fighting style, it’s no surprise that Vincent has a well-built, toned physique. His unkempt hair reaches his shoulders, curling slightly at the ends, and he has a single, diagonal scar that cuts through the end of his left eyebrow, barely missing his eye. His arms and torso are covered in a myriad of scars, each one a testament to the battles he had taken part in, a point of pride for him. He keeps things simple when it comes to what he wears in his day-to-day, preferring things that are easy to move in and cheap to replace should he find himself in a fight. In battle, he wears heavy plate armor, complete with a full helm and a pair of heavy, combat-ready gauntlets.
Height: 6’3” Eye Color: Steel grey Hair Color: Black
Personality:
Vincent is the type of guy who’s quick to anger, usually the first to start throwing punches, foul-mouthed, and enjoys (more than) his fair share of drink. While he would be the first to admit that he isn’t that bright, he’s surprisingly insightful and his battle intelligence is second-to-none. Above all that, however, he’s loyal. If one were to earn his loyalty and respect, it would be difficult to find a better ally.
Background:
Vincent sat in a dimly-lit tavern, a half-drained tankard of ale in his hand. He was dressed in his off-duty clothes, a short-sleeved shirt that bared his scarred forearms, breeches, and boots. Across from him sat a bard, one who had asked Vincent for an interview so he could write a song about him. It didn’t take much convincing on the bard’s part, as Vincent never minded talking about himself.
”I grew up in Greypeak. My dad had long since run off, so my mom raised me on her own,” he said as he sat back in his seat, one arm draped over the back of the booth. ”I’ll be the first to admit that I was a handful as a kid. I had more energy than I knew what to do with, so when I wasn’t getting into or stopping fights, I was out exploring the area around town. There are some pretty dangerous creatures up that way, but for the most part, I was able to handle myself. A good fifth of my scars are from my childhood, come to think of it.”
He took a moment to finish off his tankard and continued, ”Anyway, as it turned out, I not only had a knack for fighting, but I liked it, too. I wasn’t a bully or anything, but I never hesitated to kick the asses of people who deserved it. I even fended off attacks from wild animals and monsters when I was as young as eleven. Before long, I was an honorary member of Greypeak’s peacekeeping force for a time. I think I was about…13, 14 years old when Old Man Lanza, a knight commander before me, came to town.”
He paused as a waitress approached and set a bowl of soup in front of him, as well as another tankard of ale. The bard peered into it and saw chunks of sourdough bread, bacon, sliced sausage, mushrooms, chunks of potatoes, and fried onion strips. Vincent looked at the bard and grinned. ”A specialty from my hometown,” he proudly stated. ”I can make it myself, no problem, but I’ve experimented with the recipe so much that it isn’t the same as what I used to have as a kid. This place does a great job recreating it, though.”
He swallowed a spoonful and continued, ”Anyway, Lanza came through town, right? And he started hearing these stories of this kid who’s been helping keep the peace. So, he asks to meet him and the townspeople tell him that the kid’s down in the mines. Some creatures had taken up residence in an old shaft, so he went down on his own to take care of it. Lanza and his retinue hurried to the mine to help out, only to stop at the entrance. The kid came out, his clothes all torn and tattered, some wounds here and there. He had a broken sword in one hand and, in the other, the head of a cave troll. After that, the rest is history. I squired to Lanza for a few years, became a knight, then knight commander, now I’m here. Unfortunately, the king was already long-since dead by then, so I missed out on my rune, but them’s the breaks.”
The bard hurriedly finished writing his notes, then looked up at Vincent after a moment. “Well, that’s all well and good,” he said, “but I’m afraid I’ll need more details, more feats of heroism to finish your song. Like…How about you tell me about the incident that led to you becoming a knight commander? I’ve heard the stories, but I’d love to hear it from the horse’s mouth, as it were!”
At that, Vincent’s grin faded and he slowly lowered his spoon back into his bowl. He was quiet for a moment before he met the bard’s eyes. ”Not exactly my favorite memory,” he said after a few moments. He sighed and nudged his bowl aside. He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward.
”Lanza and I went to this little, backwater town. This was some time after I was promoted to knighthood, but Lanza and I often travelled together to watch each other’s backs. He was like the father I never had and he never complained about my company. Anyway, there were reports of this horde of monsters making their way there, so we, along with some other knights under Lanza’s command, were leading evacuation efforts. The monsters were moving faster than we thought, though, because they were on us before we could react. While we were fighting, something snuck up and knocked Lanza to the ground and they all ganged up on him, something that wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for that cheap shot. Everything after that’s a blur, but when I came to, I was standing in the midst of a couple dozen or so monster corpses, covered in their blood and mine. My armor was destroyed, I was pretty badly wounded, but in that blackout rage, I didn’t feel anything. The other knights all said it was because of me we only lost a few people, but that was cold comfort. Because of their testimonies and the ones from the villagers, the vote passed and I became a knight commander just shy of my 24th birthday.”
He was silent for several long moments before he pulled his soup closer and picked his spoon back up. ”Anyway, that’s enough of that” he said, his grin returning, albeit a bit more forced, ”Let me tell you about the time I took down a giant centipede with nothing but a fork.”
Rune Affinity:
Physical Enhancement: When he gains his rune, Vincent will gain the ability to enhance his physical traits: strength, speed, durability, etc. While he’s naturally stronger than most, his rune will push his already impressive abilities to superhuman levels.
Skills & Abilities:
-Hand-to-hand combat and heavy weapons expert: Putting his strength to exceptional use, Vincent is highly capable with all manners of heavy, close-range weapons (greatswords, hammers, axes, etc.), but his preferred style of fighting is hand-to-hand, utilizing a pair of specially-made gauntlets.
-Battle Intelligence: While planning and tactics are by and large one of his weakest areas, Vincent’s is surprisingly skilled in outside-the-box thinking when in the heat of battle.
-Peak physical abilities: Vincent’s physical attributes, primarily his strength and durability, are much higher than average, enabling him to take hits that would put most people down while also letting him deal incredible amounts of damage, making up for his lack in magical aptitude.
Additional Details: -He’s afraid of ghosts and other intangible creatures. Anything that he can’t hit creeps him out. He’s also afraid of the ocean (more specifically, the things that lurk in the ocean)
-He has a passion for cooking and he’s also a rather skilled dancer, a hobby he had taken up to help improve his footwork in combat.
Ame was always a bookish and curious type, never looking for fame or fortune. Responsibilities are, after all, just distractions of the material world, and she was much more interested in the spiritual and the arcane. She enjoyed the simple life of living in her older sister's shadow, nodding along to whatever half-hearted praises and prizes were thrown at her. Such a lifestyle made her undersocialized and unequipped for the life of the spontaneous champion, much less one that should be riding alongside the strongest champions of the kingdom. This much, she knows, and she is mature enough to understand the weight of her position within the world. She has since tried to push herself more and more into social settings, but is often awkward and can't seem to get her words right during high pressure moments.
| BACKGROUND |
With the weakened Alveria in turmoil in the south, the usually isolated and aloof Valken barons were split on how to deal with their southern neighbour. Some of the more militant barons, keen to shore up their influence through closer ties with the outermost regions of Alveria, pushed for immediate economic annexation of Alverian trade outposts. Not only would they free their country from the heavy mercantile tariffs, but they could levy their own fee upon the other baronies should they gain control over the few mountain passes that maintained trade over the two kingdoms. The moderate barons who would gain nothing from such an aggressive push advocated for more opportunistic diplomatic and religious concessions.
Weiss Felfarer was both a compromise and a gamble. As an accomplished champion in the arena, Lady Weiss was due to be married off to Alveria anyway, but famously refused the hand of any marriage unless the would-be suitors could defeat her in fair combat. At the combined Grand Council's request, she bowed her stubbornness and agreed to secure the hand of House Estival, the House that had the ports closest to the mountain passes to Valkenkarr. For the hardliners, Valkenkarr would collectively reap the benefits of severely reduced tariffs and some influence over the much needed trade ports. For the moderates, they would be able to sate the bloodthirst of their southern counterparts and demonstrate their political prowess of the usually unwieldy Felfarer clan.
Weiss quickly rose in infamy and rank, garnering support from local fringe believers of the northern faiths whilst also gaining respect from knight commanders with her knowledge of battle tactics and brute strength. Soon, she was in the close company of knight commanders and putting down insurgencies left and right. Most famous of these exploits included her alledgedly wrestling an armored bear to submission as a show of force. This is, however, not her story. Weiss was killed in the bloody coup several years ago with her involvement in the coup remaining unknown. The entirety of her landing was burnt in a mysterious fire at the night of the coup, and her body was never found.
Although the popular narrative was that she died in defence of the steward loyalists, the lack of solid evidence and unifying answers sent many of the baronies in the north into an uproar. Hardliners immediately started moving military units, and others started scrambling for a solution before Valkenkarr would start a full blown invasion in search of a blood-debt. The Felfarer House in particular was in hot waters both from the Valken and the Alverians who suspected Weiss of treachery.
Ame Felfarer was the last minute stop-gap attempt to stop the brewing conflict. Weiss' much younger and disinterested sister was forced into the limelight. Befitting the rest of the Felfarer clan, she was always aloof and quiet, although unlike her sister Ame was also altogether removed from the cavalier lifestyle of a champion. Burdened with the sudden responsibilities of having to soothe tensions in a international incident in the middle of a possible civil war, she mostly let the Felfarer clan diplomats speak for her.
Due to her elusiveness she earned the reputation of being icy and ill-mannered, and many questioned her Champion-Apparent status as she only inherited the title from her sister and by will of the Valkenkarr Council, never having participated in a duel herself outside of ceremonious scripted combats. Her saving grace was the enthusiastic vouching of the Alverian College, who praised her as 'esoteric but honest' in her forays into alchemy.
| RUNE AFFINITY |
Ame is eligible to accept runes which would theoretically enhance her magic, but as a pledge-kin accepting Alverian rune would cause a major diplomatic incident, Ame will refuse any offer of a rune.
| SKILLS |
Ame's primary subject of interest is alchemy and detection magic. Her Arcane Eye grants her the ability to detect poisons and traces of magic not ordinarily seen by untrained eyes, and can often figure out the mechanics of a given spell if she spends enough time. This also grants her limited darkvision but ironically is limited in more mundane environments.
With her portable alchemy kit she can craft various elemental flasks that can quickly imbue a material with an elemental affinity, making blazing blades and polearms of everfrost. She can also perform limited transmutation with enough materials, but she is more interested in crafting poisons than transmuting objects.
Ame's study subjects into the arcane has been broad and wide-ranging, but due Alverian skeptics always looking over her shoulders she has limited her forays into the traditional Old Magic of the north in favor of a more fundamentalist approach favored by the Alverians. Thus although she has a good grasp of traditional avenues of knowledge, Old Magic is still something she avoids.
Ame is somewhat weak on the physical front and will prefer to avoid direct combat, but is handy with a knife and staff if she is cornered. She often coats her knife with a paralytic poison to disarm rather than disfigure her enemies.
Appearance: If you were to ask one to recall Caiman's appearance by memory, the lion's share of people would ration you the recollection of a shorter-than-average man clad in a dark palette consisting of black or brown leathers and furs, grey cloths, or perhaps a rare-few other articles of muted blues or greens. Whatever they might recall, they very likely would remember that they'd not seen the Knight Commander void of his armet - lest they were the Steward, his advisors, or perhaps one of some fellow Knight Commanders.
Caiman's appearance without his armet is one that conveys a youth perhaps a touch more green than is really true of him. His face is shaped with soft yet angular features, he has fair, unmarred skin, and possesses short, inky-black hair. In truth, he wears his armet more often than is considered apt due to the tendency of some of his comrades to patently underestimate him for his ostensible youthfulness, much to his chagrin. But Caiman is certainly not incapable. When it comes to physique, Caiman does stand noticeably on the shorter side at 5'6", but possesses a lean musculature and a slender appearance.
He holds himself with a natural, dutiful countenance. When one has the opportunity to see his face, they'll likely see a very neutral visage with watchful, golden-hazel eyes. Ironically, Caiman's features are quite demonstrative when they have cause to be - his brows, eyes, lips, etc. are very expressive when it comes to the rare-few times he experiences particularly strong, or perhaps alien, emotions.
Personality:
Caiman seems to posses an.. oddly fluctuating sense of impersonalness. While he has shown evident loyalty and a large measure of investment in his kingdom and nation, he is, in most circumstances, seemingly very-well emotionally regulated. A neutral, dutiful aura is likely one which even the most Caiman-familiar Knight Commanders have rarely seen him deviate from. It is a feature, among several, that made, or make, him a notable knight - for keeping a cool head at all times is not always an easy task, even for some veterans.
In sooth, this is not to say that Caiman is emotionless, for this is clearly untrue. His impassive visage is not a cold or dry one - he is simply.. not very expressive, in general. In fact, there have been times when Caiman has shown emotions. When his father, Knight Commander Ritter Black, passed, Caiman was one of many men to shed a tear, or several, at his funeral. Further still, he can respond to lesser encouragements as well - Knight Commander Lerkley Polk, a long-time friend of his father, has been known to cause Caiman to crack a small smile, on occasion.
Regardless of the circumstances, Caiman is known as a knight that is utmost emotionally reliable - whether he finds himself stepping through the gore and viscera of a massacre, or blade-to-throat midst his own mortal peril, his level-headedness is something to be sure of.
Aside from how he reacts to the things around him, Caiman has a solid moral compass. Beside his loyalty to his kingdom and the straight-faced comradery he shares with his fellow Knight Commanders, he is one to uphold good and help where he can, even if he has to do a little bad to accomplish his goals. When it comes to how he treats his enemies, enemies of his nation, or ne'er-do-wells in general - he performs unyieldingly, yet humanely. He has, however, been known to handle particularly heinous malefactors with treatment a touch harsher than the norm.
Background:
It'd be truthful to say Caiman was raised to be a knight. Born to be a knight, as his late father would say. Knight Commander Ritter Black was a man who valued honor, virtue, and above all else, family. Even moreso the family that was young Caiman Black, when the birth of the boy caused his wife's passing. It was from his youngest age that Ritter entered Caiman onto the path that would lead him to become a knight - as he wished nothing more than for his son to see the life of luxury and honor that he had made for himself.
The duo resided in the capital of Alveria, Olenta, where Ritter Black served in his duties to the crown as a Knight Commander. As such, it was often that young Caiman found himself cared after by only the best of sitters until an age where he would become a squire, and would be taken under the wing of his father full-time. In truth, his upbringing was rather regular for a boy on the path of knighthood. He developed pretty regularly in his training when it came to the matters of heraldry, chivalry, courtly affairs, etc., but there was a particular shift when it came to the young Caiman's affinity for matters of warfare.
His father spotted in him an irregularly sharp aptitude for swordsmanship, marksmanship, horsemanship, and all other manner of depths of combaterie. Whether it was due to a particular interest in these practices or an exceptionally keen natural inclination, the young squire picked up on techniques very naturally and effectively, and often digested manuals much faster than his father and tutors anticipated. By the time the young lad was approaching the age around which he would start transitioning to knighthood, his progress was well past what any of them would deem acceptable. So much so that his father, who was one of the most trusted Knight-Commanders to the Lord Steward, entered him into knighthood a touch early.
It was from there that Caiman Black quickly made a name for himself ahead of his peers. In his role as a knight, he displayed an unshakeable grip on his usefulness to his kingdom and his ability to improve himself as the highest class of soldier. Even from a place of parity, it was often that Caiman found even accomplished knights seeking his counsel in matters of warfare or swordsmanship, or even seeking rapport with him due to his growing reputation.
All-in-all, Caiman's adult life was just what his father had hoped for him, and much more. It was this pacifying thought that made his father's passing a touch more digestible for Caiman. Ritter Black could, at least, die proud of his son.
The death being some two years ago, it was not terribly long before Caiman Black took his father's place as a Knight Commander - though a rather young one. But, it was in his father's wishes to the Lord Steward and the fellow Commanders to welcome Caiman into that fold - a realm in which he has not disappointed.
Rune Affinity (if applicable): To-be-revealed.
Skills & Abilities: Caiman is a masterful wielder of most types of traditional weapons, be they swords, daggers, mauls, flails, etc. Paramount among his most favored weapons are Spears, Swords, Lucerne Hammers, and Crossbows. He is also a very gifted technical grappler - and fortunately so, for his small stature makes him vulnerable to being pinned. Furthermore, he is an incredible rider. The agility and precision with which he controls and maneuvers his mount is impressive, even for a knight.
When it comes to mental warfare, Caiman is second to none in keeping his head. He's quick-witted and tactically intelligent. In truth, he's not a very inspiring commander when it comes to emotive morale-building, but his mere martial reputation has been enough before, in a pinch.
Aside his martial prowesses, Caiman is pretty ordinary in his skills as a knight, though he remembers the entirety of his training over the years with respectable accuracy.
Additional Details: As an infant, Caiman was plagued with a genetic illness for some weeks, but eventually managed to overcome it. In most-recent months, its return has delivered a shallow turn in his health. For the mostpart he seems alright, but for days at a time has experienced a sickly pallor, accompanied by a fever and cough.
Caiman, whether tending to his knightly duties or not, always carries a sword at his side, as most of status do. Caiman's sword is a pretty average one of roughly 35 inches in blade-length, and can be comfortably wielded in one or two hands. He also carries a Rondel dagger of about 14 inches in length. His favored weapon, though, is a spear measured six feet in total length with a 12 inch, double-edged blade.
Caiman is sidekick to a loveable canine named "Belabog". Most see her as more wolf than acceptable dog, but Caiman seems to have a soft spot for her nonetheless. She seems to respond pretty well to his attempts to train her, and he's confident she could probably be useful as a war hound of some kind, but he is reluctant to utilize her in that capacity.
"Grim-cub" is a, some would say silly, nicknamed bestowed upon him by the older Knight Commander Lerkley Polk, as a way to poke fun at Caiman's usual impersonal, watchful gaze. Much to Caiman's relief, the moniker has caught on with very few.
Caiman picked up the habit of always wearing an armet before he became a Knight Commander, and can't really shake it nowadays, though he truthfully hasn't tried too hard.
