Reserved.
[CHAR] The Imperial Dragoons — A Flintlock Fantasy RP [Open]
- Large Group
- Historical
- Fantasy
- Advanced
- Military
- GM VoiD
Join Status:
Apply
Name: Jakob Konyk
Nobility: Yes; Eldest of the count of Armiansk on the crimea
Sex: Male
Race: Ukrainian
Age: 19
Physical Description: 5'10" with a stocky, athletic frame. Has short black wavy hair, cut painstakingly at and above the ear befitting a noble. His face is heart shaped with a neither a prominent jaw nor chin. Has brown eyes that are just big enough to catch the light consistently through his spectacles. His shoulders are broad, but not necessarily strong.
Rank: Cornet
Magic-Rank:Magus
Goals/Aspirations: He wishes to bring glory, honor, and prominence to house Konyk, and use those things to shape his slice of the world as he sees fit, in the image of enlightenment ideals.
Personality: Soft spoken and friendly, jakob is a kind soul. He is studious and loves learning about everything, and is a big fan of enlightenment theory and philosophy. He is devout in his love of christ and tends toward the less appreciated virtues- temperance, humility, and charity spur him. He takes heart that through his own actions he can make an impact, and is thus not always a man of words. On the flip side, this does not make him great in front of crowds- his oratory and speaking can be lacking. In the face of hardship and violence, he is unflinching, believing truly that god is with him.
Backstory: His family are Ukrainian nobility brought into the byzantine aristocracy as they were allowed to keep their titles and lands after the conquest of crimea. For their part, their rural county of the duchy of crimea is pious and peaceful, and that is reflected as well in his parents- kind, well educated nobles who, while spending a lot on books for country gentry- are rather humble in their estate.
Jakob is the eldest of four, and for most of his life, took almost entirely after his father- bookish, pious, with little interest in the rest of the world. He would have stayed that way, too, except for a young peasant boy with whom he became fast friends- Stefan Andrey. Both extremely intelligent, they would run around the county pretending to be adventuring imperial soldiers, and getting into the mischief children did.
When they came of age, stefan had convinced himself he was going to join the army. He talked with jakob of it every day, and soon jakob began to wonder if he too would not make a good soldier. Soon, however, stefan's whole family fell ill and died. Left with nothing, he headed south to enlist. Jakob left a week after, determined to join his friend. His parents sent him south with the money for travel and enough for a commission, as well as their anxiety and best wishes.
However, almost immediately after purchasing his commission, it became apparent that he had extremely potent drastikos. They sent him to the university right away- and were astonished by his progress. Something of a genius, he graduated with his magus from the university in only three years- almost unheard of. Conspicuously, however, was the lack of close friends or social network most young nobles left the college with- his focus on his studies and natural lack of social grace due to his rural upbringing left him out of most social circles. Finally joining the military, he is excited to try and find his friend Stefan, who he is sure was good enough to find his way into the dragoons.
Nobility: Yes; Eldest of the count of Armiansk on the crimea
Sex: Male
Race: Ukrainian
Age: 19
Physical Description: 5'10" with a stocky, athletic frame. Has short black wavy hair, cut painstakingly at and above the ear befitting a noble. His face is heart shaped with a neither a prominent jaw nor chin. Has brown eyes that are just big enough to catch the light consistently through his spectacles. His shoulders are broad, but not necessarily strong.
Rank: Cornet
Magic-Rank:Magus
Goals/Aspirations: He wishes to bring glory, honor, and prominence to house Konyk, and use those things to shape his slice of the world as he sees fit, in the image of enlightenment ideals.
Personality: Soft spoken and friendly, jakob is a kind soul. He is studious and loves learning about everything, and is a big fan of enlightenment theory and philosophy. He is devout in his love of christ and tends toward the less appreciated virtues- temperance, humility, and charity spur him. He takes heart that through his own actions he can make an impact, and is thus not always a man of words. On the flip side, this does not make him great in front of crowds- his oratory and speaking can be lacking. In the face of hardship and violence, he is unflinching, believing truly that god is with him.
Backstory: His family are Ukrainian nobility brought into the byzantine aristocracy as they were allowed to keep their titles and lands after the conquest of crimea. For their part, their rural county of the duchy of crimea is pious and peaceful, and that is reflected as well in his parents- kind, well educated nobles who, while spending a lot on books for country gentry- are rather humble in their estate.
Jakob is the eldest of four, and for most of his life, took almost entirely after his father- bookish, pious, with little interest in the rest of the world. He would have stayed that way, too, except for a young peasant boy with whom he became fast friends- Stefan Andrey. Both extremely intelligent, they would run around the county pretending to be adventuring imperial soldiers, and getting into the mischief children did.
When they came of age, stefan had convinced himself he was going to join the army. He talked with jakob of it every day, and soon jakob began to wonder if he too would not make a good soldier. Soon, however, stefan's whole family fell ill and died. Left with nothing, he headed south to enlist. Jakob left a week after, determined to join his friend. His parents sent him south with the money for travel and enough for a commission, as well as their anxiety and best wishes.
However, almost immediately after purchasing his commission, it became apparent that he had extremely potent drastikos. They sent him to the university right away- and were astonished by his progress. Something of a genius, he graduated with his magus from the university in only three years- almost unheard of. Conspicuously, however, was the lack of close friends or social network most young nobles left the college with- his focus on his studies and natural lack of social grace due to his rural upbringing left him out of most social circles. Finally joining the military, he is excited to try and find his friend Stefan, who he is sure was good enough to find his way into the dragoons.
LordofthePies A Mess
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Name:
Aro Danius
Nobility:
No
Sex:
Male
Race: Greek/Serbian/Norman/etc
Romanian
Age:
26
Physical Description:
Rather tall, 6'5''
Very nice teeth, all things considered
Has a permanent never smiling face. Even when he does smile, it's only a small one that looks like he's less unhappy.
Rank:
Trooper
Goals/Aspirations:
Aro wants to serve and protect, to do what he couldn't when he was a civilian. He couldn't protect his family from their deaths, so he wants to protect others, in any way he can.
Personality:
Aro is a protector of the people. He would gladly sacrifice himself if it meant keeping others safe. Although, he doesn't believe he can save everyone. Some people can't be saved. He also believes that the good of the many is better than the good of the few, so he'd much rather kill someone hurting hundreds than someone that is hurting one.
Aro is loyal to his country, his family, his group, and his leader. He would do anything for them, within reason. He will kill for his people, but only those that he thinks deserve it or those that are in his way. He will not kill children, animals, or anyone he believes to be innocent. If they have nothing wrong, they don't deserve pain or death.
Aro isn't very open about anything and would rather shoot himself than talk feelings. He believes people shouldn't worry about him and should worry about themselves. He believe's he's just a soldier that is fulfilling his purpose. He bottles up everything to the point where it hurts him, but again, he would never share aloud his troubles. Since he bottles everything up, he's very unstable. The metaphorical pot he keeps inside often pours over, letting out outbursts of anger or other strong feelings. Aro doesn't have very good emotional control, but at least he doesn't cry.
Backstory: Three paragraphs minimum
I would never die for my beliefs because I might be wrong.
Both of Aro's parents were hung for believing that the church was wrong and had no place in their town and was stealing from their people. They were hung when he was just 10, but he was old enough to remember. He remembers the sound of the rope snapping after the lever being pulled. He remembered the gasp and murmurs of the crowd. He remembered the look on both of his parents' faces before they died. They were ready to die for their beliefs, even when Aro wasn't.
After that, he was raised by his only remaining relative, which was his grandfather. His grandfather strongly believed in the ways of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Oradea Mare church. Aro was angry that his grandfather spat on his children's names, so they never really saw eye to eye. His grandfather didn't have a very good job, so for the rest of his life with him, they lived in poverty. His grandfather refused to change, and when asked why, he simply said, "Viața este plină de suferință. Dacă nu suferiți, nu trăiți. Dacă nu trăiești, cum te poți aștepta să mori?" ("Life is full of suffering. If you don't suffer, you don't live. If you don't live, how can you expect to die?") Aro still goes by a similar philosophy. He believes that you can't truly live without a little hardship. If you don't know unhappiness, how can you know happiness?
When Aro when finally old enough to live on his own, he left his grandfather as soon as he got the chance. After a few years on his own, he found the love of his life. Doina Lonesco. That was her name. They had met in the market, and hit it off right away. It felt like some terrible play trope. She had always said, "Era ca și soarta. Când m-am uitat la el, am știut că el este singurul care mi-ar plăcea." ("It was like fate. When I looked at him, I knew he was the only one I would love.") How right she was. A few years together, they married (only because his grandfather pleaded him to before Aro even thought of children), and had two little boys, Cosmin and Viorel.
Aro was coming home from work. He saw his home burning. He could smell the smoke, hear his family's screams. He ran to the house, but the door was unmovable. The entire house was on fire, there was no way in. He stood back and painfully watched as his family died. He could do nothing. His only thoughts were, "I should've been able to save them. I shouldn't have left them alone." His boys were only two, and they were dead. His wife was right, Aro would be the only man she'd ever love because she'd never get another chance.
Aro ran from the house. He had nothing left. Nothing but his grandfather, but he would probably make things worse. His grandfather probably would've said Aro deserved it because he never believed in the faith. Aro wanted to get away from everything. The memory, the pain, his grandfather. He ran with tears on his cheeks. This would be the last time he cried. His family didn't need tears, they needed to be saved, but it was too late now. Aro signed into the military as soon as he could. It was the only way to escape. He didn't have enough money to flee the country, but they would take him. The army would take him away from everything.
Aro Danius
Nobility:
No
Sex:
Male
Race: Greek/Serbian/Norman/etc
Romanian
Age:
26
Physical Description:
Rather tall, 6'5''
Very nice teeth, all things considered
Has a permanent never smiling face. Even when he does smile, it's only a small one that looks like he's less unhappy.
Rank:
Trooper
Goals/Aspirations:
Aro wants to serve and protect, to do what he couldn't when he was a civilian. He couldn't protect his family from their deaths, so he wants to protect others, in any way he can.
Personality:
Aro is a protector of the people. He would gladly sacrifice himself if it meant keeping others safe. Although, he doesn't believe he can save everyone. Some people can't be saved. He also believes that the good of the many is better than the good of the few, so he'd much rather kill someone hurting hundreds than someone that is hurting one.
Aro is loyal to his country, his family, his group, and his leader. He would do anything for them, within reason. He will kill for his people, but only those that he thinks deserve it or those that are in his way. He will not kill children, animals, or anyone he believes to be innocent. If they have nothing wrong, they don't deserve pain or death.
Aro isn't very open about anything and would rather shoot himself than talk feelings. He believes people shouldn't worry about him and should worry about themselves. He believe's he's just a soldier that is fulfilling his purpose. He bottles up everything to the point where it hurts him, but again, he would never share aloud his troubles. Since he bottles everything up, he's very unstable. The metaphorical pot he keeps inside often pours over, letting out outbursts of anger or other strong feelings. Aro doesn't have very good emotional control, but at least he doesn't cry.
Backstory: Three paragraphs minimum
I would never die for my beliefs because I might be wrong.
Both of Aro's parents were hung for believing that the church was wrong and had no place in their town and was stealing from their people. They were hung when he was just 10, but he was old enough to remember. He remembers the sound of the rope snapping after the lever being pulled. He remembered the gasp and murmurs of the crowd. He remembered the look on both of his parents' faces before they died. They were ready to die for their beliefs, even when Aro wasn't.
After that, he was raised by his only remaining relative, which was his grandfather. His grandfather strongly believed in the ways of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Oradea Mare church. Aro was angry that his grandfather spat on his children's names, so they never really saw eye to eye. His grandfather didn't have a very good job, so for the rest of his life with him, they lived in poverty. His grandfather refused to change, and when asked why, he simply said, "Viața este plină de suferință. Dacă nu suferiți, nu trăiți. Dacă nu trăiești, cum te poți aștepta să mori?" ("Life is full of suffering. If you don't suffer, you don't live. If you don't live, how can you expect to die?") Aro still goes by a similar philosophy. He believes that you can't truly live without a little hardship. If you don't know unhappiness, how can you know happiness?
When Aro when finally old enough to live on his own, he left his grandfather as soon as he got the chance. After a few years on his own, he found the love of his life. Doina Lonesco. That was her name. They had met in the market, and hit it off right away. It felt like some terrible play trope. She had always said, "Era ca și soarta. Când m-am uitat la el, am știut că el este singurul care mi-ar plăcea." ("It was like fate. When I looked at him, I knew he was the only one I would love.") How right she was. A few years together, they married (only because his grandfather pleaded him to before Aro even thought of children), and had two little boys, Cosmin and Viorel.
Aro was coming home from work. He saw his home burning. He could smell the smoke, hear his family's screams. He ran to the house, but the door was unmovable. The entire house was on fire, there was no way in. He stood back and painfully watched as his family died. He could do nothing. His only thoughts were, "I should've been able to save them. I shouldn't have left them alone." His boys were only two, and they were dead. His wife was right, Aro would be the only man she'd ever love because she'd never get another chance.
Aro ran from the house. He had nothing left. Nothing but his grandfather, but he would probably make things worse. His grandfather probably would've said Aro deserved it because he never believed in the faith. Aro wanted to get away from everything. The memory, the pain, his grandfather. He ran with tears on his cheeks. This would be the last time he cried. His family didn't need tears, they needed to be saved, but it was too late now. Aro signed into the military as soon as he could. It was the only way to escape. He didn't have enough money to flee the country, but they would take him. The army would take him away from everything.
Name: Theodoros Speros
Nobility: —
Sex: Male
Race: Greek
Age: 20
Physical Description: Not quite the tallest, Theodoros is a lean man with built muscles albeit on a man under six feet. His skin is olive in complexion, suitable for sweating under the golden sun. His hair is dark and black, abundantly warn on his face and soon to begin some stylizing to better equip his manhood for rising in the ranks. His shoulders are broad and held squarely, all for better holding scythes and other machinery in the wheat fields without permanently damaging his back. His eyes are also dark in color and not easily deterred by daylight due to thick lashes and bushy eyebrows.
Rank: Stratiotis
Magic-Rank: —
Goals/Aspirations: Not everyone is readily equipped with a life that can fight the Noetic Battle in the comfort of their family lives, and Theodoros, having been convinced that his spiritual life was indeed one of disaster, sees more clearly his struggles through the eyes of a soldier in battle, defending the Holy Empire from her enemies. He believes in order to redeem himself in the Mercies of the Godhead, his duties to serve are imperative. With humility and honor, he has accepted this undertaking.
Perhaps, he would enjoy finding himself a suitable woman to wed, which was a small portion of his decision making when deciding to join the Byzantine Army (not particularly fond of watching his own mother and sister bask in less well-pleasing attire while toiling in the fields). However, he is more concerned with his struggle towards salvation and has spent much of his spare time in literature that was so foreign and new to him as a younger man, he had never dreamed of attempting to consume in knowledge.
Personality: A nervous type of man with some disposition to wear his fingernails short, which came in good use for keeping the worms from hiding underneath them when he worked the fields, Theodoros is probably more distinguished as a man all so worried about his spiritual life that he has managed to lose enough hope for his eyes to entertain the an unshakeable worriment. It is probably his worrying that has driven his motivation, and as such, it is a life long habit that only Confession could perhaps relinquish. Despite his nervous habit, Theodoros has been saved but such a rampant disquieted heart on several occasions; he is nimble of heart and nimble of mind and spirit. His tempo is also quick through his feet, and seemingly enough his mind is not one for slumber, like a typical man who has dedicated much of his time in the fields of Byzantium.
His downfall is his temper, which he bottles until he explodes. It is hoped that he will channel this energy to something more useful in battle, such as a heart that understands bloodshed sometimes must happen.
Backstory: In the midst of the grandiose gold and glittering embroidery that laced the rich and luxurious vines of the Holy Roman Empire with laurel crowns and pompous, religious pageantry, the Empire's royal drapes of the divine extended into the green fields and frayed like the fringes of a presbyter's epitrachelion. Her thin gold threads were spread throughout the land like hay for the herds, tended by faithful subjects toiling in honest servitude and prayer. All was not lost in their humility, drenched with sweat and often jealous by their aristocratic counterparts. There was some stitch of hope tended in this backbone that learned of the worthy praises, which bestowed to past Byzas like Justin I and Leo V. They saw the sun rise every morning in the East, as Saint Ezekiel saw the Glory of God — the same prominence from which the Son of Man shall return. Should God grant such tender mercies to them through His Divine Will, their souls would light as candles in Heaven for eternity.
However, not all peasants had such glory in mind. For Nikodimos and Serafeima, their prayers for their marital union to be blessed with children had been left unfulfilled by the intercessions through Saints Joachim and Anna. Serafeima was reaching her later years, and Nikodimos' health was uncertain in all but the Eyes of the Lord. Both were lowly field workers with barely enough to feed themselves. It might as well have been a blessing that the two had no children. However, Nikodimos and his wife, in fervent penitence were determined to pass themselves a lineage before their time of living in the temporal world was no longer a burden.
"We pray so often, 'might as well embrace the monastic an' live in strict to the Lord.
Surely the sisters would enjoy learnting of my boilt kollyba."
Serafeima would often times joke in this manner. Her musings were merely humors that seemed darker and darker with each turning day. However tasteful Nikodimos believed his wife's cooking to be, he was certain with the their methods of acting, the strict order was not in the least bit enticing for either of them — at least, it was not something he wanted to endure, and if it was not for him, the he would not permit it to be anymore tempting for his wife.
Alas, after a long day of talons uncovered and weeds pulled from the wheat fields, the couple found themselves in another banter, although more weary than usual at the coming to the end of another Liturgical Year. Serafeima was huffing about their misfortune when Nikodimos, finally impatient with her persistence, drank his wine — bitter from strange rain cycle the years prior — and slammed his dusty fist upon the wooden table, lopsided from his younger years of a differing impatience. While it was true that by their age it was most embarrassing they had not even conceived one child, but they should be thankful the Godhead had granted mercy upon them to never know the heartache and humility attributed to losing an infant. However, during this particular evening, Nikodimos was not going to lecture his wife about repentance and thanksgiving. Instead, he angrily commanded her to cease her constant complaining — he was her husband, not her priest. Instead, he commanded her to pray to the venerate the Holy Cincture of the Theotokos.
"Make a prayer to the Most Holy Lady before the New Year."
And sure enough, not quite nine months later, right after Pascha, their first son was born. After some time, the couple came to have five children (shortly before Serafeima reached her age); four sons and one daughter. Their first son was Baptized Kodros; their second son was Baptized Geórgios; their third son was Baptized Demetrios; their fourth son was Baptized Theodoros; and their daughter was Baptized Anekah. Like their parents, they helped farm on the wheat fields in their loyal agrarian methods, which had become more mechanical in the past century. This yielded greater revenue for their life in the small village, trying to swell with pride and hard work.
There was not much to the name for obvious reasons of a family that lived in a chorion. The Speros family stories rarely lasted more than a generation, and the stories that did last seemed so classical to the follies of human nature, they might as well have been stories from anyone's family. The Speros were not ones for priding themselves in their names. It was inevitably for this reason that Kodros took up his cross and decidedly was the first to leave the family and the village. He left in pursuit of the monastic life, fulfilling some duty his mother must have secretly desired prior to his conception. According to words, Kodros, so caught in his fairy tales of other cultures, was granted a blessing to travel abroad to other nations in pursuit of enchanting and enticing foreign citizens with the mythos of Orthodoxy.
Geórgios was the second to leave the family but not the village. Due to Kodros' vow, Geórgios became the heir of the family, even if the inheritance would be nothing much more than honor and namesake. Geórgios followed the footsteps of his older brother to the best of his ability and was humbled by the tradition of the family to be given to him. However, in his religious journey, he stumbled into the priesthood and was made worthy of the title Father Geórgios. Due to his profession, he handed over any garden of inheritance to his younger brother, Demetrios.
Demetrios was the only son to stay in the family and village. He would see to it that the Speros' garden and few slaves were honored and preserved, and if by the grace of God, expanded. Only months after Geórgios relinquished his family duty, Nikodimos fell asleep in the Lord and was able to witness boiled some delicious kolyva in his memory every year after his passing.
Anekah was the third to leave the family and village. She was supple in frame and pretty in face. Upon running the smallest of errands to the Bakery, some wealthy landowner came across her. It was supposed that he prayed an Akathist to Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker for Forty Days and upon seeing Anekah, he was so piously drawn to her love and humility that he could not resist crowning her as his eternal wife to journey with him through the passions of time. The Speros family was proud of Anekah, and Serafeima stubbornly insisted on weaving their crowns.
Theodoros was the fourth to leave the family and the third to leave the village. He had lost his competitive spirit, at least the fight in which he was to prove himself against his older brothers, both who had turned their paths to the East. Generally caught in his own literate pursuits (often times childish due to lack of education but nonetheless fanciful and entertaining for Anekah) Theodoros turned to his Patron, Saint Theodoros of Tiron, after the Holy Matrimony of his sister. Saint Theodore was a strong courageous soldier, martyred by through the sentencing of being burned to Eternal Life like the wick on a candle; and thus, he decided his position in the Holy War was to join the Byzantine Army. There was much honor to be had in this endeavor; and he believed the regime would do his spirit good. The Military was abundantly active across the lands. Why, Theodoros had even been mended by a Medic of the Forces when he was younger, overlooking the village's doctor.
He had heard stories of the conquests as a child, and many of them had lasted as his favorites. His mother was not too fond of them, however. It was also exceptional that she took guard over her youngest son's interests, which seemed to dwell in fits of rage that fumed longer than her three eldest sons. In fact, it was probably this way because he was not only disciplined by the lady of the household but by the three older brothers, as well, and unfortunately, by the end of the scolds, Theodoros was nurtured into a nervous man who had bouts of rage from trying to bottle himself too frequently. Nevertheless and despite Serafeima's wishes, Theodoros followed God's Will to the Imperial Tagmata. It was for the best, really and not just because the aristocrats were impeaching once again on peasantry territory, but because Byzantium was notorious for its soldier's pay, and extra incentives of land were granted along the way. Theodore knew these privileges came with cost and understood that not all men are born to endure the struggle of the monastic life, just as not all men are born to endure the struggle of the soldier life. For such a reason, Theodoros has instilled this prayer into his heart:
"Pray unto God for me, O Holy Saint Theodoros of Tiron, well-pleasing to God: for I turn to thee,
who art a speedy helper and intercessor for my soul."
Andreyich AS THOUGH A THOUSAND MOUTHS CRY OUT IN PAIN
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
Name: Ioannis (with variations depending on audience like John, Ivan, Johannes, etc...) Fabianou Sveinaldsson
Nobility: Konostaulos
Sex: Male
Race:Varangian
Age: 21 (Born August 3rd 1793)
Physical Description:
Rank: Lance-Corporal
Magic-Rank: N/A
Goals/Aspirations:
Personality:
Backstory:
Nobility: Konostaulos
Sex: Male
Race:Varangian
Age: 21 (Born August 3rd 1793)
Physical Description:
Standing at about six feet tall, Ioannis has good symmetry and well-rounded proportions of the body with no particularly emphasis on his build anywhere; simply what one gets when they've been living a military life. He has a short but pointed nose, wide yet not precisely strong cheeks and a somewhat weak chin; however this is somewhat counter-acted by the long face. He has quite pale skin that is however almost permanently reddened by the sun. It is contrasted by dirty blond hair and mellowed out by green eyes.
Rank: Lance-Corporal
Magic-Rank: N/A
Goals/Aspirations:
Though he once dreamed of reviving family glory, now all Ioannis hopes for is a place to sleep on after fighting the enemy. He has a greater, idealistic goal of letting the Roman Empire be eternal balanced out by the mere desire for tomorrow to be at least no worse than today.
Personality:
Ioannis has a conflict of his many natures quite clear in his personality. The Varangian and Greek cultures don't clash too much but his official status, combined with what culture expects of him, along with in-born optimism over-shadowed by personal experience gives him many issues. He can't be a great Nordic Viking brute Lord when he has witnessed what war is really like - and hasn't liked it, and doesn't have cash to flaunt like a proper noble. Nevertheless, a somewhat silver tongue makes sure that he knows exactly when to speak and how to use words. Whenever there's a soiree or ball with food and pretty ladies, he'll casually inform the organizer of it of his noble origins, making up a suitably dashing story about joining the low ranks because he wants to make something of himself.
Backstory:
The more boastful of the Sveinaldssons claim origin from the Viking Princes of Kiev while the more depressed and poor grimly say they were bloody nuisances who eventually settled with the Normans in Britain as farmers. The truth is somewhere in between, with the now all but forgotten head of the family "Sveinald" being a descendant Varangian arrivals in the Baltic region of Plescow. However, it was soon clear that not all was good in these lands when Teutonic Knights were going East while steppe nomads West. So, Sveinald had gathered together some men to form a Hird, and went South. After much sailing they had eventually reached Roman lands and had along with various other Nordmen pledged allegiance to the Emperor joining the elite Varangian Guard.
While for centuries they were prosperous carrying the title of Konostaulos, it had over the many centuries become little more than an honorific. Meanwhile, the family did not as other nobles diversify their wealth by owning land and business. This is where the life of Ioannis begins. His family now owned little more than the crumbling ancestral house on the outskirts of the capital and a few heirlooms.
As a child he went into a choir and it seemed he'd go into a monastic life but the death of his elder brother meant the family had minus one provider. Naturally, the impressionable young lad went in to join the Hussars. At his age of fifteen he was already quite susceptible to peers having a go, but when he tried to flaunt his de jure status as noble this only got him a fine arse-kicking. Nevertheless, it was while painful a good lesson about his place in the world. The ending of Ioannis's training nearly perfectly coincided with the start of the Mamluk revolt and he along with the rest were deployed to quell it.
The war there was an education to say the least. The combat there was much different from that which would be done by the more technologically advanced lands in Europe. There was much guerilla war, and the well trained forces of the Dragoons at times fell like flies to hidden militias. Though earlier the lad hated his comrades their deaths one by one were horrifying for someone but sixteen. Near the end of the conflict the Bandon was all but annhillated with the men in it now veterans. After "heroism" in an ambush he was promoted to Lance-Corporal, his current rank.
Now, with what he picked off of dead comrades and enemies he awaits his next deployment, praying that this one won't be like the last.
While for centuries they were prosperous carrying the title of Konostaulos, it had over the many centuries become little more than an honorific. Meanwhile, the family did not as other nobles diversify their wealth by owning land and business. This is where the life of Ioannis begins. His family now owned little more than the crumbling ancestral house on the outskirts of the capital and a few heirlooms.
As a child he went into a choir and it seemed he'd go into a monastic life but the death of his elder brother meant the family had minus one provider. Naturally, the impressionable young lad went in to join the Hussars. At his age of fifteen he was already quite susceptible to peers having a go, but when he tried to flaunt his de jure status as noble this only got him a fine arse-kicking. Nevertheless, it was while painful a good lesson about his place in the world. The ending of Ioannis's training nearly perfectly coincided with the start of the Mamluk revolt and he along with the rest were deployed to quell it.
The war there was an education to say the least. The combat there was much different from that which would be done by the more technologically advanced lands in Europe. There was much guerilla war, and the well trained forces of the Dragoons at times fell like flies to hidden militias. Though earlier the lad hated his comrades their deaths one by one were horrifying for someone but sixteen. Near the end of the conflict the Bandon was all but annhillated with the men in it now veterans. After "heroism" in an ambush he was promoted to Lance-Corporal, his current rank.
Now, with what he picked off of dead comrades and enemies he awaits his next deployment, praying that this one won't be like the last.
Joegreenbeen Head to the Sky
Member
Seen
9 mos ago
Name:Paulus Ordo
Nobility:No
Sex:Male
Race:Armenian
Age:21
Physical Description: A tall, handsome man standing at 6’, Paulus has a strong body. He has average dark skin and a light layer of facial hair. His round face is dominated by a strong nose, and his green eyes sit under a full head of shaggy hair.
Rank:Trooper
Magic-Rank:NA
Goals/Aspirations: Paulus has an obsession with order, and wishes to use his talents in the military to protect the land and lifestyle he loves.
Personality: Paulus can hold his own in a conversation, only occasionally being seen as stubborn and overzealous about his world view if the topic turns that way. Paulus feels indebted to the nobility, a unique stance for a commoner. Deep down, Paulus cares for the welfare of his peers, but is a little annoyed when they don’t see the nobility the same way he does.
Paulus is a very focused individual and doesn’t care much for drink or revelry. He also isn’t very interested in finding a bride, believing one would only be a distraction. This makes Paulus a very diligent worker, and he often devotes the energy he would put into socializing or expressing himself into his work; whatever it may be.
Backstory:
Paulus’s father fought in the twilight of the American revolution as one of Optimate’s Dragoons. Unfortunately he lost his arm, but by the grace of the Almighty, he was able to return to his family alive and well. After returning home, a young, landed noble took pity on the brave soldier, and saw to it that he was well taken care of. His experiences in the new world left Paulus’s father with a poor opinion of democracy, an opinion only cemented by the generosity of the nobleman.
Paulus is the first and only child of his parents, and his father began to teach him from a young age that the structure and power of the Byzantine Empire was ordained by the Lord and to be protected with his life. Starting him at age seven, the families benefactor provided Paulus with a tutor who taught Paulus basic mathematics, science, literature, and combat. This lasted until Paulus was 15 and the Mamluk rebellion began. The conflict destabilized the noble that had kept a kind eye over their family for years, and he was unable to care for them any longer. Fortunately, Paulus was at an age to begin work, and his able body and work ethic found jobs to support his family, despite the hard times the community was experiencing. While he worked, his body maturing and growing strong, he mused that his troubles all stemmed from peasants in Cairo who were ungrateful to their noble masters and were foolish enough to revolt. (Ignorant that the rebellion was lead by nobility.)
Paulus worked many jobs. A number of times he would attempt to become an apprentice, but no master was able to keep him long due to the lack of resources during the war. This ended up benefitting Paulus, as he was a hard worker and was able to learn bits and pieces from many trades. When he wasn’t in contact with a craftsman, Paulus would take on work as a common laborer or a servant. Eventually, the rebellion came to a close and prospects began to look up for the family. Instead of being a happy time for the family, Paulus’s father passed. Paulus took little time to grieve his father,though. He knew that was not what his father would have had his son be preoccupied with grief when he could be serving the nation. Instead, he entrusted his mother in the care of relatives and enlisted to become a member of the imperial army.
Nobility:No
Sex:Male
Race:Armenian
Age:21
Physical Description: A tall, handsome man standing at 6’, Paulus has a strong body. He has average dark skin and a light layer of facial hair. His round face is dominated by a strong nose, and his green eyes sit under a full head of shaggy hair.
Rank:Trooper
Magic-Rank:NA
Goals/Aspirations: Paulus has an obsession with order, and wishes to use his talents in the military to protect the land and lifestyle he loves.
Personality: Paulus can hold his own in a conversation, only occasionally being seen as stubborn and overzealous about his world view if the topic turns that way. Paulus feels indebted to the nobility, a unique stance for a commoner. Deep down, Paulus cares for the welfare of his peers, but is a little annoyed when they don’t see the nobility the same way he does.
Paulus is a very focused individual and doesn’t care much for drink or revelry. He also isn’t very interested in finding a bride, believing one would only be a distraction. This makes Paulus a very diligent worker, and he often devotes the energy he would put into socializing or expressing himself into his work; whatever it may be.
Backstory:
Paulus’s father fought in the twilight of the American revolution as one of Optimate’s Dragoons. Unfortunately he lost his arm, but by the grace of the Almighty, he was able to return to his family alive and well. After returning home, a young, landed noble took pity on the brave soldier, and saw to it that he was well taken care of. His experiences in the new world left Paulus’s father with a poor opinion of democracy, an opinion only cemented by the generosity of the nobleman.
Paulus is the first and only child of his parents, and his father began to teach him from a young age that the structure and power of the Byzantine Empire was ordained by the Lord and to be protected with his life. Starting him at age seven, the families benefactor provided Paulus with a tutor who taught Paulus basic mathematics, science, literature, and combat. This lasted until Paulus was 15 and the Mamluk rebellion began. The conflict destabilized the noble that had kept a kind eye over their family for years, and he was unable to care for them any longer. Fortunately, Paulus was at an age to begin work, and his able body and work ethic found jobs to support his family, despite the hard times the community was experiencing. While he worked, his body maturing and growing strong, he mused that his troubles all stemmed from peasants in Cairo who were ungrateful to their noble masters and were foolish enough to revolt. (Ignorant that the rebellion was lead by nobility.)
Paulus worked many jobs. A number of times he would attempt to become an apprentice, but no master was able to keep him long due to the lack of resources during the war. This ended up benefitting Paulus, as he was a hard worker and was able to learn bits and pieces from many trades. When he wasn’t in contact with a craftsman, Paulus would take on work as a common laborer or a servant. Eventually, the rebellion came to a close and prospects began to look up for the family. Instead of being a happy time for the family, Paulus’s father passed. Paulus took little time to grieve his father,though. He knew that was not what his father would have had his son be preoccupied with grief when he could be serving the nation. Instead, he entrusted his mother in the care of relatives and enlisted to become a member of the imperial army.
DELETED32084
Banned
Seen
2 yrs ago
Name: Francisco de la cal Delgado
Nobility: No
Sex: Male
Race: Caucasian (Spanish)
Age: 19
Rank: Trooper
Magic-Rank: None
Goals/Aspirations:
Fransisco simply wants out of his parents farm. He believes that there is so much more to the world than the pitiful a hundred and sixty acres his family farm on the Island of Mallorca. Also, he may have impregnated the local lords daughter and desperately needs to leave town.
Physical Description:
Francisco is a classic farm boy, broad in the shoulders, tall, strong, handsome as only Spanish born sons can be with slightly darker features and jet black hair. His eyes are unique in their blue colour and has been wearing a beard since the age of fourteen.
Personality:
Francisco is the type of young man all boys want to be. Handsome, clever, strong, and, above all, a good lover. Dangerously popular with the ladies he is an excellent horseback rider and well known for his hard work ethic, cooking skills, and natural ability with animals. Quick with a smile and a deep chuckle, he is a man that most people would like to call a friend.
Despite being unable to read, he has seen enough tapestries at Church and heard enough stories to know that somewhere, beyond his Island home, there is an Empire worth seeing. A recruiter for the Imperial Dragoons recently arrived in town and with one, okay, possibly three illegitimate children, on the way, he is keen to makes tracks. His father, possibly aware of the grand child problem, has purchased his son a fine horse as a token of his well wishes.
Backstory:
Francisco was born to the son of Spanish parents who can trace their lineage back to the Carthaginian settlers who first came to the Island of Mallorca. He grew up on the family farm and has worked hard to make his parents proud, and to help their family prosper.
As a youth he evaded all attempts by his parents to educate him in reading and writing. Instead he spent time in the woods, in the fields, learning how to hunt, track, fish, and survive. He can tickle a trout from any stream, hunt a deer with his bare hands, and outrun a wild boar.
His athletic feats and handsome face have earned him the attention of many local ladies and more than a few are currently claiming to carry his children. The thought of having children and settling down on a farm to continue pushing up earth and worrying about crops has no appeal to him. He dreams of glory and adventure.
Nobility: No
Sex: Male
Race: Caucasian (Spanish)
Age: 19
Rank: Trooper
Magic-Rank: None
Goals/Aspirations:
Fransisco simply wants out of his parents farm. He believes that there is so much more to the world than the pitiful a hundred and sixty acres his family farm on the Island of Mallorca. Also, he may have impregnated the local lords daughter and desperately needs to leave town.
Physical Description:
Francisco is a classic farm boy, broad in the shoulders, tall, strong, handsome as only Spanish born sons can be with slightly darker features and jet black hair. His eyes are unique in their blue colour and has been wearing a beard since the age of fourteen.
Personality:
Francisco is the type of young man all boys want to be. Handsome, clever, strong, and, above all, a good lover. Dangerously popular with the ladies he is an excellent horseback rider and well known for his hard work ethic, cooking skills, and natural ability with animals. Quick with a smile and a deep chuckle, he is a man that most people would like to call a friend.
Despite being unable to read, he has seen enough tapestries at Church and heard enough stories to know that somewhere, beyond his Island home, there is an Empire worth seeing. A recruiter for the Imperial Dragoons recently arrived in town and with one, okay, possibly three illegitimate children, on the way, he is keen to makes tracks. His father, possibly aware of the grand child problem, has purchased his son a fine horse as a token of his well wishes.
Backstory:
Francisco was born to the son of Spanish parents who can trace their lineage back to the Carthaginian settlers who first came to the Island of Mallorca. He grew up on the family farm and has worked hard to make his parents proud, and to help their family prosper.
As a youth he evaded all attempts by his parents to educate him in reading and writing. Instead he spent time in the woods, in the fields, learning how to hunt, track, fish, and survive. He can tickle a trout from any stream, hunt a deer with his bare hands, and outrun a wild boar.
His athletic feats and handsome face have earned him the attention of many local ladies and more than a few are currently claiming to carry his children. The thought of having children and settling down on a farm to continue pushing up earth and worrying about crops has no appeal to him. He dreams of glory and adventure.
Post Catalogue:
1. Delgado arrives at the Depot
2. Training begins
3. Arrival in Tomis
4. The First Patrol
5. Ambushed!
6. Riding for reinforcements
7. Reporting to the lieutenant
8. Delgado manages to get some rest
Name: Milos Karras
Nobility: Second son of a powerful Greek noble.
Sex: Male
Race: Greek
Age: 19
Physical Description: Milos stands at an imposing six foot five, with short dark brown hair that is always kept at less than an inch in length. His face is completely clean shaven, and he is quite determined to keep it that way. He has a light skin tone with a slight tan. His eyes are a piercing dark green, and often appear to be cold and calculating.
Moving down to the rest of his body, Milos has an above-average physique. While not overwhelmingly strong or muscular, he can still deliver a strong punch or bludgeon a foe with the hilt of his sabre, and is exceptionally agile and light on his feet, quick with both pistol and sword. His uniform is crisp, clean, and well-maintained, following regulations to the letter.
Rank: Lieutenant
Magic-Rank: N/A
Goals/Aspirations: As the second son, Milos is not set to inherit the family title, and his only path of advancement is either through business or the army. He has opted for the latter. He has two goals: the first is to rise through the ranks and bring wealth and prestige to his name, and by extension his family. His second goal is to serve the empire and his superiors with loyalty and diligence, but not necessarily without question.
Personality: Milos is not particularly likeable. He is often blunt and critical to both his equals and subordinates. While he shows the required deference to his superiors, he does not carry out their orders with any particular enthusiasm and will often question their plans if he notices what he deems a flaw. He is also a bit of a stickler for the rules. That said, he is loyal: to his superiors, to his friends, and to those who earn his respect. Furthermore, he does not take birth into account when dealing with others. He is courageous and unyielding on the battlefield, but has very few qualms with 'dishonorable' tactics such as pursuing fleeing soldiers or using his environment to gain an unfair advantage.
Backstory: The Karrases are a respectable noble family in Greece. While they are not particularly well-connected, they are exceptionally wealthy, with more than enough money to fulfill their financial obligations to the Empire, maintain their Estates, and enjoy the lavish lifestyle expected of the nobility.
Milos was the third of five children - three brothers and two sisters. He himself was the second son. While many of his siblings were quick to indulge in the privileges and luxuries available for nobles of their station, Milos instead focused on more practical pursuits. He sequestered himself in his family's library, studying history, military tactics, and science. He paid attention and always took an opportunity to learn, whether he was with his father and brothers on a hunting trip or being taught a lesson by his tutors.
Milos's older brother, Atheos, was, in many ways, his opposite. Where Milos was studious and diligent, Atheos was lazy and easily distracted. Where Milos was reserved and distant, Atheos was open and charismatic. This resulted in something of a rivalry between the two - Milos believed himself to be more capable than his brother, and Atheos sensed this, which led him to believe Milos would one day plot against him.
Then there was his younger brother, Nimos, the youngest of the family. Like Milos, Nimos possessed a sharp mind. However, unlike Milos, Nimos was shy and timid, quick to back down and defer to others when challenged. As a result, Milos ended up acting as a protective older brother, and the two formed a close bond.
When he was sixteen, Milos finally brought up his desire to join the army to his father. His father deliberated over the idea for a few days, before finally coming to a decision. Since Milos was the second son, it would come across as rather odd if he was given an officer's commission while the firstborn was not. So, he decided that his two eldest sons would join the army, which Atheos was quick to protest against, but eventually consented - he would not be outdone by his younger brother.
Atheos was given a commission in an infantry regiment, while Milos was sent to the Imperial Dragoons.
Milos's dutiful service, meticulous eye to detail, and commitment to his career eventually caught the notice of his superiors, who approved his promotion after nearly three years as a Cornet. His brother had achieved a promotion as well, just a year earlier, but it was not through merit - he had befriended his superiors and called upon family connections, much to Milos's annoyance. And finally, taking note of the increased tension to the west and suspecting that another war was on the way, their father had decided to buy Nimos a commission as well - in an artillery regiment.
That brings us to today. Milos's father has swore that he will buy no further promotions for his children, due to the heavy cost they have placed upon the family, which means future advancement must come either through merit or through wealth that they have earned themselves.
Nobility: Second son of a powerful Greek noble.
Sex: Male
Race: Greek
Age: 19
Physical Description: Milos stands at an imposing six foot five, with short dark brown hair that is always kept at less than an inch in length. His face is completely clean shaven, and he is quite determined to keep it that way. He has a light skin tone with a slight tan. His eyes are a piercing dark green, and often appear to be cold and calculating.
Moving down to the rest of his body, Milos has an above-average physique. While not overwhelmingly strong or muscular, he can still deliver a strong punch or bludgeon a foe with the hilt of his sabre, and is exceptionally agile and light on his feet, quick with both pistol and sword. His uniform is crisp, clean, and well-maintained, following regulations to the letter.
Rank: Lieutenant
Magic-Rank: N/A
Goals/Aspirations: As the second son, Milos is not set to inherit the family title, and his only path of advancement is either through business or the army. He has opted for the latter. He has two goals: the first is to rise through the ranks and bring wealth and prestige to his name, and by extension his family. His second goal is to serve the empire and his superiors with loyalty and diligence, but not necessarily without question.
Personality: Milos is not particularly likeable. He is often blunt and critical to both his equals and subordinates. While he shows the required deference to his superiors, he does not carry out their orders with any particular enthusiasm and will often question their plans if he notices what he deems a flaw. He is also a bit of a stickler for the rules. That said, he is loyal: to his superiors, to his friends, and to those who earn his respect. Furthermore, he does not take birth into account when dealing with others. He is courageous and unyielding on the battlefield, but has very few qualms with 'dishonorable' tactics such as pursuing fleeing soldiers or using his environment to gain an unfair advantage.
Backstory: The Karrases are a respectable noble family in Greece. While they are not particularly well-connected, they are exceptionally wealthy, with more than enough money to fulfill their financial obligations to the Empire, maintain their Estates, and enjoy the lavish lifestyle expected of the nobility.
Milos was the third of five children - three brothers and two sisters. He himself was the second son. While many of his siblings were quick to indulge in the privileges and luxuries available for nobles of their station, Milos instead focused on more practical pursuits. He sequestered himself in his family's library, studying history, military tactics, and science. He paid attention and always took an opportunity to learn, whether he was with his father and brothers on a hunting trip or being taught a lesson by his tutors.
Milos's older brother, Atheos, was, in many ways, his opposite. Where Milos was studious and diligent, Atheos was lazy and easily distracted. Where Milos was reserved and distant, Atheos was open and charismatic. This resulted in something of a rivalry between the two - Milos believed himself to be more capable than his brother, and Atheos sensed this, which led him to believe Milos would one day plot against him.
Then there was his younger brother, Nimos, the youngest of the family. Like Milos, Nimos possessed a sharp mind. However, unlike Milos, Nimos was shy and timid, quick to back down and defer to others when challenged. As a result, Milos ended up acting as a protective older brother, and the two formed a close bond.
When he was sixteen, Milos finally brought up his desire to join the army to his father. His father deliberated over the idea for a few days, before finally coming to a decision. Since Milos was the second son, it would come across as rather odd if he was given an officer's commission while the firstborn was not. So, he decided that his two eldest sons would join the army, which Atheos was quick to protest against, but eventually consented - he would not be outdone by his younger brother.
Atheos was given a commission in an infantry regiment, while Milos was sent to the Imperial Dragoons.
Milos's dutiful service, meticulous eye to detail, and commitment to his career eventually caught the notice of his superiors, who approved his promotion after nearly three years as a Cornet. His brother had achieved a promotion as well, just a year earlier, but it was not through merit - he had befriended his superiors and called upon family connections, much to Milos's annoyance. And finally, taking note of the increased tension to the west and suspecting that another war was on the way, their father had decided to buy Nimos a commission as well - in an artillery regiment.
That brings us to today. Milos's father has swore that he will buy no further promotions for his children, due to the heavy cost they have placed upon the family, which means future advancement must come either through merit or through wealth that they have earned themselves.
Sirkaithethird Lord of The Sea
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
Name: Johann Von Nyon
Nobility: Yes
Sex: Male
Race: German
Age: 20
Physical Description: A tall lean man with sandy brown hair, aquamarine eyes, broad shoulders, and weathered features showing that he is not new to work. Johann is strong though his outline might not show it.
Rank: Cornet
Magic-Rank: N/A
Goals/Aspirations: Johann wants to return to his town, a veteran. To prove to his father that he is the best choice as an heir.
Personality: Johann is a perfect example of a gentleman. He is respectable and lives up to his promises. One might describe him as cheerful or optimistic, others see that in a time of stress Johann makes a joke out of anything. His goal act as a gentleman is almost his shortcoming, he goes out of his way to do good. Over the years Johann has devolved some intresting traits, he tends to think situations through longer than needed, he will go out of his way to help or make friends. He isn't afraid to voice his opinion or even contradict his superiors.
Backstory: As The son of the Earl of Nyon, Johann had more choices than most but he grew up working for farmers in the hill sides. He lived the same as a farm boy by request, waking early to do his duties, then going into town to sell milk in the afternoons. At the age of 10, the neighboring farm had a runaway horse little Johann coaxed the hose back to her owner. At that moment Johann fell in love with horses. He then spent his time learning how to treat, and train horses.
As a young man Johann returned to his father's home and learned how to be a leader, a gentleman, and a noble. This lasted 2 years. Johann was taught by aristocrats from around Europe. After 2 years Johann was told to travel. Johann was 15 when he left home, he went to Zurich, found love, and settled. Upon hearing of Johann's situation Johann's father had him returned without the girl.
In a rage his father bought Johann a commission as a Cornet. Claiming that this will teach Johann how to act. The last words Johann heard from the earl were ones of warning. Telling him not to return till he can live like an earls son. Now Johann was an officer in a foreign army and an outcast from his family.
Johann's father was correct in some respects, the training did teach how to live and act right but it also taught him how to kill, and how to think quick. Johann's mind became a weapon as sharp as the sword at his belt. If correctly used he could become a son in his fathers eyes once again.
Nobility: Yes
Sex: Male
Race: German
Age: 20
Physical Description: A tall lean man with sandy brown hair, aquamarine eyes, broad shoulders, and weathered features showing that he is not new to work. Johann is strong though his outline might not show it.
Rank: Cornet
Magic-Rank: N/A
Goals/Aspirations: Johann wants to return to his town, a veteran. To prove to his father that he is the best choice as an heir.
Personality: Johann is a perfect example of a gentleman. He is respectable and lives up to his promises. One might describe him as cheerful or optimistic, others see that in a time of stress Johann makes a joke out of anything. His goal act as a gentleman is almost his shortcoming, he goes out of his way to do good. Over the years Johann has devolved some intresting traits, he tends to think situations through longer than needed, he will go out of his way to help or make friends. He isn't afraid to voice his opinion or even contradict his superiors.
Backstory: As The son of the Earl of Nyon, Johann had more choices than most but he grew up working for farmers in the hill sides. He lived the same as a farm boy by request, waking early to do his duties, then going into town to sell milk in the afternoons. At the age of 10, the neighboring farm had a runaway horse little Johann coaxed the hose back to her owner. At that moment Johann fell in love with horses. He then spent his time learning how to treat, and train horses.
As a young man Johann returned to his father's home and learned how to be a leader, a gentleman, and a noble. This lasted 2 years. Johann was taught by aristocrats from around Europe. After 2 years Johann was told to travel. Johann was 15 when he left home, he went to Zurich, found love, and settled. Upon hearing of Johann's situation Johann's father had him returned without the girl.
In a rage his father bought Johann a commission as a Cornet. Claiming that this will teach Johann how to act. The last words Johann heard from the earl were ones of warning. Telling him not to return till he can live like an earls son. Now Johann was an officer in a foreign army and an outcast from his family.
Johann's father was correct in some respects, the training did teach how to live and act right but it also taught him how to kill, and how to think quick. Johann's mind became a weapon as sharp as the sword at his belt. If correctly used he could become a son in his fathers eyes once again.
Name: Herakles Leventis
Nobility: No
Sex: Male
Race: Greek
Age: 20
Physical Description: Herakles is a broad-shouldered young man, who stands a hearty 6' 4". He has long legs and arms with muscles that bulge against much of his clothing. Multiple scars varying in severity mar an otherwise perfect complexion. Black hair, usually cut short crudely, connects to a neatly trimmed full beard that hides a pleasing jawline and a pair of slightly full cheeks hollowed on either side by deep dimples. A permanent set of shallow wrinkles adorn his brow, likely a result of the innumerable hours unsuccessfully puzzling out engineering problems.
Rank: Cornet
Magic-Rank: n/a
Goals/Aspirations: Step out of his father's shadow. Embark on adventure and make a name for himself.
Personality: Herakles is a young man with the confidence of someone who's never wanted for anything a day in their life, yet he wears it modestly. He is generally plain spoken, preferring to demonstrate than to explain. He is known to be audaciously bold and venturesome. In contrast to his family's calculating nature, he is primarily intuitive, allowing his senses to guide him rather than his assessments. More than anything he values persistence and dedication. He recognizes that not every person is fit to meet the exacting expectations of others, but also knows that with those two traits little can stand in your way.
Backstory:
Although there is no noble blood to be found in the Leventis background, Herakles' family have come to know wealth on a scale not entirely dissimilar. His father, a brilliant man with a knack for manufacturing and a particularly strong business acumen, rode the back of an industrial boom that placed him and his family well within reach of a life of luxury. During the years of the American revolution and the Seven Year's War, Herakles' father built an arms company to rival the ages. Of his three children, he expected no less greatness than the example he himself had set. Having laid such a tremendous foundation, it would only be fitting to watch his legacy be carried on by his progeny. Even as the youngest son. Herakles was no less heir to the full weight of his fathers expectations. Groomed from an early age to be a leader in the illustrious company, he learned of the long days and longer nights that the life entailed. Early to rise for tutoring, off to the factories to be hustled about examining the machinery, attending meetings to hear about production, sales, new engineering ideas. Where his brothers took to the technical projects like to fish to water, Herakles floundered. Their intellect was set to rival their fathers, but for Herakles things would never come so easy. He was by no means a simple boy, but his strengths undoubtedly lied elsewhere.
During meetings, he had little to add by way of inventive designs, but none could deny the weapons expertise he brought to the table. Where his brothers excelled in their development, Herakles was anyone's better in their application. While they rattled off their theoretical specifications, he put them into practice. He spent most of his free-time outdoors; building the firing ranges, hunting, even teaching the local militia from time to time. Whatever placed a rifle in his hands felt most like home.
A healthy rivalry grew between the siblings, nurtured along by their father's competitive spirit. Herakles was the youngest and his brothers had no intent to let him soon forget it. Swimming, wrestling, and horse-races quickly became the way to settle any dispute. And in a family with three hearty young men, little imagination is needed to realize that anything and everything can quickly turn into a dispute. It was during one such quarrel that Herakles' fate met with the prospect of joining the military. The idea had been circulating more and more recently throughout the city and it greatly appealed to Herakles. He was prepared to purchase a commission and made his intent clear. He had leadership experience and no one knew their way around a gun better than he did, but a few issues arose nonetheless. Firstly, officer billets were generally reserved for nobility. No rule existed barring his admission into the officers' corp, but it was hardly conventional. Moreover. his father was deeply uncomfortable with the idea of sending his son off to war when he had already worked so diligently to provide him all he might need in life. For Herakles, though, it wasn't enough. Something more called to him; something intangible, but hauntingly persistent. His brothers were sent to talk some sense into him, but there would be none of it. If they had any intent of hindering his plans, things would have to be settled in their usual fashion. When Herakles bested both of his elder brothers in a wrestling match, his father softened and acquiesced. Unbeknownst to Herakles, while he definitively defeated his eldest brother, the other allowed his victory in order to bolster his chances to answer what he felt to be his calling.
Nobility: No
Sex: Male
Race: Greek
Age: 20
Physical Description: Herakles is a broad-shouldered young man, who stands a hearty 6' 4". He has long legs and arms with muscles that bulge against much of his clothing. Multiple scars varying in severity mar an otherwise perfect complexion. Black hair, usually cut short crudely, connects to a neatly trimmed full beard that hides a pleasing jawline and a pair of slightly full cheeks hollowed on either side by deep dimples. A permanent set of shallow wrinkles adorn his brow, likely a result of the innumerable hours unsuccessfully puzzling out engineering problems.
Rank: Cornet
Magic-Rank: n/a
Goals/Aspirations: Step out of his father's shadow. Embark on adventure and make a name for himself.
Personality: Herakles is a young man with the confidence of someone who's never wanted for anything a day in their life, yet he wears it modestly. He is generally plain spoken, preferring to demonstrate than to explain. He is known to be audaciously bold and venturesome. In contrast to his family's calculating nature, he is primarily intuitive, allowing his senses to guide him rather than his assessments. More than anything he values persistence and dedication. He recognizes that not every person is fit to meet the exacting expectations of others, but also knows that with those two traits little can stand in your way.
Backstory:
Although there is no noble blood to be found in the Leventis background, Herakles' family have come to know wealth on a scale not entirely dissimilar. His father, a brilliant man with a knack for manufacturing and a particularly strong business acumen, rode the back of an industrial boom that placed him and his family well within reach of a life of luxury. During the years of the American revolution and the Seven Year's War, Herakles' father built an arms company to rival the ages. Of his three children, he expected no less greatness than the example he himself had set. Having laid such a tremendous foundation, it would only be fitting to watch his legacy be carried on by his progeny. Even as the youngest son. Herakles was no less heir to the full weight of his fathers expectations. Groomed from an early age to be a leader in the illustrious company, he learned of the long days and longer nights that the life entailed. Early to rise for tutoring, off to the factories to be hustled about examining the machinery, attending meetings to hear about production, sales, new engineering ideas. Where his brothers took to the technical projects like to fish to water, Herakles floundered. Their intellect was set to rival their fathers, but for Herakles things would never come so easy. He was by no means a simple boy, but his strengths undoubtedly lied elsewhere.
During meetings, he had little to add by way of inventive designs, but none could deny the weapons expertise he brought to the table. Where his brothers excelled in their development, Herakles was anyone's better in their application. While they rattled off their theoretical specifications, he put them into practice. He spent most of his free-time outdoors; building the firing ranges, hunting, even teaching the local militia from time to time. Whatever placed a rifle in his hands felt most like home.
A healthy rivalry grew between the siblings, nurtured along by their father's competitive spirit. Herakles was the youngest and his brothers had no intent to let him soon forget it. Swimming, wrestling, and horse-races quickly became the way to settle any dispute. And in a family with three hearty young men, little imagination is needed to realize that anything and everything can quickly turn into a dispute. It was during one such quarrel that Herakles' fate met with the prospect of joining the military. The idea had been circulating more and more recently throughout the city and it greatly appealed to Herakles. He was prepared to purchase a commission and made his intent clear. He had leadership experience and no one knew their way around a gun better than he did, but a few issues arose nonetheless. Firstly, officer billets were generally reserved for nobility. No rule existed barring his admission into the officers' corp, but it was hardly conventional. Moreover. his father was deeply uncomfortable with the idea of sending his son off to war when he had already worked so diligently to provide him all he might need in life. For Herakles, though, it wasn't enough. Something more called to him; something intangible, but hauntingly persistent. His brothers were sent to talk some sense into him, but there would be none of it. If they had any intent of hindering his plans, things would have to be settled in their usual fashion. When Herakles bested both of his elder brothers in a wrestling match, his father softened and acquiesced. Unbeknownst to Herakles, while he definitively defeated his eldest brother, the other allowed his victory in order to bolster his chances to answer what he felt to be his calling.
Name: Darius Abd-al-Hakim
Nobility: Son of the Duke of Tripoli
Sex: Male
Race: Mixed, African & Syrian
Age: 25
Physical Description:
Rank: Cornet
Magic-Rank: None
Goals/Aspirations: By virtue of his father's treatment towards him, Darius has a subconscious psuedo-inferiority complex which is constantly fueling a limitless desire for power and success. He wants nothing more than to ride the coattails of affluence, almost in defiance of his father's cold, unwavering indifference towards him. Anything that serves as a materialistic currency of success is square under Darius' iron sights; the size of his estate, the wealthiness of his friends, the gaudiness of his armaments, et cetera et cetera. Darius will use any symbol of prosperity to fill his bottomless heart, and his greed for affluence is unbounded. However, above all, Darius aspires for accolades and recognition in his post. He wants nothing more than to hold higher office in the battlefield of the Imperial Tagmata; he is a cardboard cutout of a man propagated by his lust to command respect and wield the force of the Dragoons.
Personality: Darius is a well spoken individual, having been afforded the rare luxury of a complete education offered by his nobility. He is personable and kind, however places the utmost stock in his post as Cornet. He values achieving the task presented before him by the Tagmata above all else, and all other upshots are inconsequential. All he has ever known is a loyalty to his state, and this is what fills much of his shallow personality. Darius prefers to think tactically of a situation first, rather than charge headlong without properly assessing all the variables. Weighing all decisions, and considering everything a tactical choice is ingrained deeply into who he is.
Backstory: Darius' father was a French-African noble, something of an uncommon sight. His father, a diamond tycoonist, made his fortune on the backs of the manual labor and slavery of his own race. Incredulously, his father partook in the slave trade during the early 1700s, buying Africans to put them to work tirelessly in his mines. His father was not a self made man himself, his fortunes coming from his father before him. He had also inherited the oligarchy of wealth and autocracy that strangled the province of Tripoli for generations. His father was simply the next to bear the torch of nobility in a region of poverty and exploitation.
Born to a Syrian handmaiden of his father's, Darius and his father had a cordial, businesslike relationship from birth. His father showed no affection towards him, viewing him solely as a tool that needed to be sharpened. He did not believe Darius was fit to inherit his colossal economic empire, due to what he had said was his "sickly character." Instead, he deemed Darius best suited for a life in the military, claiming Darius was as brash as a Trojan. Darius was sent across the Mediterranean to a boarding school in the Arabian Peninsula in order to train to become an officer in the Tagmata. His father seldom wrote to him, and when he did it was a letter drafted by a butler or a servant informing him of how much was left of his studies. This had never seemed out of the ordinary to Darius; that is, he never truly stopped to consider it. That had just always been the nature of his and his father's relationship, and he never truly stopped to question it.
The school was not a state-sponsored affair, rather it was a private school ran for the children of the wealthy with aspirations to become decorated soldiers. Darius would spend the months practicing swordplay, studying advanced tactics theory, horseback riding, and listening to lectures on how to properly and effectively lead a unit. In the off months, a servant would come by ship to Darius' school and take him through Mosul to Baghdad in order to stay with one of Darius' uncles for the summer. Darius' uncle was a wealthy Arabian farmer, one who had little time to be preoccupied with a relative's child. This afforded Darius great personal freedom, and he spent much time exploring the crowded and teeming narrow streets of the city. Summers in Baghdad were hot and fast, and the days seemed to bleed together; it always ended too soon, and it was back to the schoolyard for Darius.
At his graduation from the Academy, his father was not able to come to congratulate him. A servant was sent as an envoy of his father's in order to congratulate him in his perseverance through his studies. After returning home by ship to little fanfare, his father paid his commission to join the Tagmamta as an officer. All that was left was to await his assignment, and to go through formal training. Darius was not worried however; he had prepared his whole life for this, dedicated his entire livelihood to this sole cause.
Nobility: Son of the Duke of Tripoli
Sex: Male
Race: Mixed, African & Syrian
Age: 25
Physical Description:
Rank: Cornet
Magic-Rank: None
Goals/Aspirations: By virtue of his father's treatment towards him, Darius has a subconscious psuedo-inferiority complex which is constantly fueling a limitless desire for power and success. He wants nothing more than to ride the coattails of affluence, almost in defiance of his father's cold, unwavering indifference towards him. Anything that serves as a materialistic currency of success is square under Darius' iron sights; the size of his estate, the wealthiness of his friends, the gaudiness of his armaments, et cetera et cetera. Darius will use any symbol of prosperity to fill his bottomless heart, and his greed for affluence is unbounded. However, above all, Darius aspires for accolades and recognition in his post. He wants nothing more than to hold higher office in the battlefield of the Imperial Tagmata; he is a cardboard cutout of a man propagated by his lust to command respect and wield the force of the Dragoons.
Personality: Darius is a well spoken individual, having been afforded the rare luxury of a complete education offered by his nobility. He is personable and kind, however places the utmost stock in his post as Cornet. He values achieving the task presented before him by the Tagmata above all else, and all other upshots are inconsequential. All he has ever known is a loyalty to his state, and this is what fills much of his shallow personality. Darius prefers to think tactically of a situation first, rather than charge headlong without properly assessing all the variables. Weighing all decisions, and considering everything a tactical choice is ingrained deeply into who he is.
Backstory: Darius' father was a French-African noble, something of an uncommon sight. His father, a diamond tycoonist, made his fortune on the backs of the manual labor and slavery of his own race. Incredulously, his father partook in the slave trade during the early 1700s, buying Africans to put them to work tirelessly in his mines. His father was not a self made man himself, his fortunes coming from his father before him. He had also inherited the oligarchy of wealth and autocracy that strangled the province of Tripoli for generations. His father was simply the next to bear the torch of nobility in a region of poverty and exploitation.
Born to a Syrian handmaiden of his father's, Darius and his father had a cordial, businesslike relationship from birth. His father showed no affection towards him, viewing him solely as a tool that needed to be sharpened. He did not believe Darius was fit to inherit his colossal economic empire, due to what he had said was his "sickly character." Instead, he deemed Darius best suited for a life in the military, claiming Darius was as brash as a Trojan. Darius was sent across the Mediterranean to a boarding school in the Arabian Peninsula in order to train to become an officer in the Tagmata. His father seldom wrote to him, and when he did it was a letter drafted by a butler or a servant informing him of how much was left of his studies. This had never seemed out of the ordinary to Darius; that is, he never truly stopped to consider it. That had just always been the nature of his and his father's relationship, and he never truly stopped to question it.
The school was not a state-sponsored affair, rather it was a private school ran for the children of the wealthy with aspirations to become decorated soldiers. Darius would spend the months practicing swordplay, studying advanced tactics theory, horseback riding, and listening to lectures on how to properly and effectively lead a unit. In the off months, a servant would come by ship to Darius' school and take him through Mosul to Baghdad in order to stay with one of Darius' uncles for the summer. Darius' uncle was a wealthy Arabian farmer, one who had little time to be preoccupied with a relative's child. This afforded Darius great personal freedom, and he spent much time exploring the crowded and teeming narrow streets of the city. Summers in Baghdad were hot and fast, and the days seemed to bleed together; it always ended too soon, and it was back to the schoolyard for Darius.
At his graduation from the Academy, his father was not able to come to congratulate him. A servant was sent as an envoy of his father's in order to congratulate him in his perseverance through his studies. After returning home by ship to little fanfare, his father paid his commission to join the Tagmamta as an officer. All that was left was to await his assignment, and to go through formal training. Darius was not worried however; he had prepared his whole life for this, dedicated his entire livelihood to this sole cause.
© 2007-2024