Myraq
House Webber
[ ⚔ ]Age
23
[ ⚔ ]Aliases
The Red Dancer
[ ⚔ ]Reputation
Personality: Myraq is defined by both his time in chains and the breaking of those bonds. Trained from a young age to serve, Myraq has learned that being quiet and observant yields more advantages than loud disagreement. He is polite, courteous, and well-spoken when he wishes to be. No stranger to courtly etiquette, the youth understands the necessity of biting one’s tongue and knowing one’s place. That being said, as a freed slave, Myraq has found he intensely values his agency. He cannot stand the idea of being held in chains again, and he would rather die than feel iron being clamped down on his unwilling skin. As a result of his time as a bedslave, Myraq has difficulty forming meaningful relationships with people. It is evident that he keeps thick, social walls between himself and others, and it would have to take a truly special kind of person to have Myraq open up.
Beliefs: Myraq does not put much faith in the gods, be they old or new. He has trouble counseling the idea of an all-powerful being or beings that could allow such horrors like slavery to exist in the world. If there are gods, Myraq believes they don’t care much for people.
Motivations: Myraq is motivated by a need to free his mother from slavery in Yunkai. After the events of his escape, he is unaware of what his mother’s fate is, but he can only hope she found some way to escape from the Wise Masters’ grasp. He wishes to eventually return to Yunkai to discover what happened to his mother, but he knows that if he does he will both need wealth and power to fight against the Wise Masters’ of Yunkai.
Skills: Trained as a bedslave in Yunkai, Myraq has been trained in the way of the seven sighs and the sixteen seats of pleasure. His an exceptional lover, though the activity does not bring him much joy anymore. Tutored for years in the various stylings of dance from both Westeros and Essos, Myraq’s true calling lies in those artistic movements. He has become extremely athletic and acrobatic from this training, facts which he has found lend themselves easily to the battlefield. Myraq has a good talent with a blade, his favored weapon being an Arakh, but he has much to learn in regards to technique. He is able to read, write, and speak in several languages; including High Valyrian, Westerosi, and Trade Talk.
Others Perception: The lower classes of Westeros might perceive Myraq as a foreign fop only interested in easy money, too good to spare a word for natives like them. Warriors might see Myraq as a strange fool, fighting in light armor and with a strange weapon when the norm is too surround oneself in plate and battle with the biggest sword one can find. The nobility of Westeros might perceive Myraq as an exotic entertainment, well-spoken and easy to look at. They might applaud his manners and knowledge of court and dance, but might just as easily see him as a foreign threat attempting to steal away their women (or men).
[ ⚔ ]Appearance
Standing at 5’7” and weighing in at 150 lbs. of compact muscle, Myraq does not strike a particularly intimidating figure. Bearing elegant and angular facial features, there is no denying that he is a comely man. Dark skin and curly black hair, with the beginnings of a roguish beard outlining his jaw, Myraq appears as an exotic beauty to the people of the Seven Kingdoms. Three facial tattoos make striking appearance on his face, all marks of his former master Rhozar zo Varnaz.
Myraq has two style of dressing, work and court. For court, Myraq will wear a fine purple coat trimmed with gold fringe on the edges. Coupled with a light teal scarf, a brilliant orange sash, a pale white dress shirt, and white trousers, the Yunkai native only emphasizes his exotic origin. For work, however, Myraq dresses much more pragmatically. He wears a light leather armor with a leather coat, thick enough to stop an arrow at the right angle but light enough to allow him freedom of movement. Myraq will usually wield an arakh in combat, but he keeps a dagger tucked into his belt incase he finds himself unarmed.
[ ⚔ ]History
Born into chains in the slave city of Yunkai, Myraq learned from an early age that his body was never to be his own. His mother a bedslave in a rich household, the boy had a better life than most slaves. His was taught to speak in a number of dialects, proper social etiquette, and at the age of thirteen, the way of the seven sighs and the sixteen seats of pleasure so to better serve his master’s, Rhozhar zo Varnaz, guests. Myraq lived his shackled to the whims of his owner, knowing that each day he would have to pleasure all the great and many perversions of the Wise Masters of Yunkai. There were only two things which kept Myraq from taking his own life in those times, his mother and his dancing. Initially tutored so to better provide entertain Rhozhar’s guests, Myraq found salvation in those artful movements. The subtle shifts to rhythms, leading his partner through music and rhythm alike, it was only in those moments that Myraq in control of his body.
As he entered into adulthood, so too did his renown as a skilled dancer and bedslave. He grew to be Rhozhar’s most prized possession, and men and women would come from across Essos came to spend a night with Myraq. And though his chains were gilded with gold and finery, though he was showered with praise and held above the other slaves, Myraq never forgot that his body was not his own. That his life were defined by the chains which linked around his feet and the gilded cage in which he lived. He never forgot that it would take the slightest provocation to end his life or the life of his mother. So, Myraq learned to wait and listen. He learned that if he wanted to break free, he would need to find the most opportune moment, the perfect beat, and then pounce. He waited and planned for two years, until finally, at the age of 22, he saw his moment.
A smuggler from Westeros came to curry favor with Rhozhar zo Varnaz. She was a hard sort, and though young, her eyes carried an age that men twice her senior could not match. It was through her that Myraq saw an opportunity. For two years, he had been amassing a good amount of wealth. He was not allowed to earn a wage under Rhozar, but his fingers were lithe, and people’s pockets tended to be loose on the dancefloor or in the bedroom. For two years, he snuck meager amounts of gold patrons, always only taking enough not to be noticed or earn a unappealing reputation. As attempts at negotiations, and tempers, rose in his master’s hall, Myraq took a chance he knew he would never had again. He approached the smuggler, offering all the gold he had for he and his mother’s safe passage. The smuggler would only take him, afraid that the old woman would die trying to escape form Rhozhar’s chains. After his mother’s insistence, Myraq accepted the smuggler’s terms. If he found a way to slip away from his chains, than the smuggler would take him as far as from Yunkai as she could muster.
There were only two times that Myraq was not physically chained; when he was dancing or ‘servicing’ Rhozhar’s guests. The smuggler waiting in port and there being no more guests, Myraq would only have one chance to break free from his bindings. So he suggested to his master that they dance together, as in all the years that Myraq had been linked to his master they had never once danced together. His master was resistant at first, but after Myraq suggested, knowing Rhozhar’s flexible tastes, that they partake in the slave’s other specialty after they danced, his master readily accepted. Rhozhar had already sampled Myraq’s services, but the slave had never offered his services willingly, and the master was excited at the prospect. He gathered an audience of two fellow slavers, as if to show off how willing Myraq appeared to be, and began to dance with him. They moved elegantly across the floor, flowing like water and adapting to the music’s changing rhythm. Myraq led his master through many styles, all done with a certain sense of intimacy. They were beautiful together, like a painting on the move. Even as a red line spring to life on Rhozhar’s throat, they were beautiful. His body crumpled, face frozen in shock as blood fell like rubies from the tip of Myraq’s knife. The other masters exploded into action, but they were too slow to keep up with the youth’s movements. To Myraq, it was all still dancing. Dodging their grabs, evading the guards, and turning the dagger on them. It was red, bloody dance, but a dance still the same. Two more masters and a guard fell by the time Myraq had found a way to escape dancing room. Quickly and quietly, he had found his way to the smuggler’s dock and slipped aboard her outgoing ship. Myraq was free, and finally his body was his own.
As they sailed to Westeros, Myraq trained with the smuggler. A foreign land awaited him, and he would not allow anyone to take his agency away again. He found a fast friend in the smuggler, and an even better teacher. A quick talent for battle, the sailors named him ‘The Red Dancer’ after his lithe movements and his reputation. Battle became another love for the youth, another moment where he felt in complete control of his body, and when they arrived at the port of Coldmoat, Myraq wasted little time in searching for a House to sell his services. Garbed in only what the smuggler gifted him as remembrance of their friendship, he found a retainer in House Webber. They were a small house with large ambition, but their gold was good enough for Myraq. He would need even more than the smuggler was payed if he wished to return to Yunkai. No matter how much gold it took, Myraq knew he would return to Slaver’s Bay one day. He would do whatever it took to see his mother set free. If that meant serving these foreigners and their political games, so be it. No one of his blood would ever remain in chains.
[ ⚔ ]Notes
Myraq first choose to use a Arakh as his weapon because the Dothraki were the only people to ever truly frighten the Yunkai. He figured if it scared a Wise Master, it would serve him well in combat.
