Pope Carlo Bocci was an old man, having seen more than seventy years pass during his life, twenty of those as Pope and de facto leader of the Holy Empire of Vigentino. He had seen empires rise and fall, the borders of the nations around him shifting, but the one perpetual had been his burning faith. Through all the trials of his life; the death of his parents; the struggles that priesthood in the Holy Empire brought with it; the trials of his faith; and the wars that raged both around, and throughout Vigentino. Despite his age, he still held his head high, walking proudly and giving off an aura of inner strength that contrasted with his frail form.
The Pope was more of a figurehead to the Holy Empire. While still a pivotal figure within the nation, over the years he had taken to leaving the running of Vigentino to a handful of ministers, who wielded power in his name. Under their reign, the Holy Empire had thrived. Cogoli was one of the most cultural city across the Known World, a boiling pot of different cultures and professions that allowed for innovation to blossom. When he was a younger man, Carlo Bocci had spent long days wandering the cities streets, breathing in the scents, sounds, and bright colours around every corner. Now that he was an older, more important man, he sometimes yearned for that freedom, watching the city move beneath him from his chambers within the High Cathedral.
But it was not in the High Cathedral that the Pope now found himself, but within the Grand Theatre, deep within the heart of Cogoli. Carlo’s position meant he did not often find time to visit the theatre, nor was he himself an overwhelming fan of the plays and opera’s that passed through the Holy Empire, but he knew that what he saw before him was special. ‘The Emerald Dancer’ had become a sensation almost overnight, and as the Pope watched Silvana Golino move across the stage, her face an ever shifting mask of emotion, he lived every moment as she did. When the play drew to a close, he applauded without thinking, and when the young actress bowed towards the top box, where the Pope sat with his gathered ministers, Carlo nodded his head towards her in gracious thanks and praise.
He smiled, even as he was carefully escorted by a handful of his bodyguards, through the theatre and out to where his carriage was waiting for him. Stepping inside, he turned to watch the city pass as the carriage returned to the High Cathedral. He smiled again. A new age was coming, he could feel it in the air.
1. Official Name of Nation: Holy Empire of Vigentino 2. Capital:Cogoli 3. Head of State:Pope Carlo Bocci 4. Nation Breakdown Great Power – 125 Points
- Administration * Stability of the Government: 5 * Integrity of the Government: 3 * Competency of the Bureaucracy: 6
- Economics * Competitiveness of the Economy: 4 * Development of the Coal Industry: 3 * Development of the Steel Industry: 5 * Development of the Petrol Industry: 3 * Development of the Chromium Industry: 3 * Development of Small Arms Industry: 5 * Development of Munitions Industry: 5 * Development of Automobile Industry: 2 * Development of the Agriculture Industry: 3 * Development of Shipbuilding Industry: 0 * Mechanization: 4 * Number of Specialized Workers: 5 * Urbanization: 5
- Military * Quality of Standard Rifle: 7 * Quality of Field Gun: 5 * Quality of Machine Gun: 5 * Quality of the Army: 7 * Logistics Capacity of the Army: 6 * Quality of the Officer Corps: 5 * Competency of Army High Command: 5 * Quality of the Navy: 0 * Logistics Capacity of the Navy: 0 * Quality of the Officer Corps: 0 * Competency of Navy High Command: 0
Name: ‘Valeriano D’Ascanio’/ Luca Race: Human Age: 33 Appearance:
Luca is handsome, and he walks with the swagger of someone who is all too aware of their own good looks, his very appearance oozes vanity. His hair, white before it’s time, is grown long and pulled back away from his face, his facial hair carefully managed. His dark eyes always have a shade of bemusement, his thin lips set in a smirk. He is rarely found out of his usual outfit; a loose fitting shirt, made from cotton and impossibly clean against the filth of where he can be usually found; leather breeches; well-worn boots; and a fine, red cloak, the very same that he took from the nobles back, so many years ago. The rapier slung from his hip is almost a part of his outfit, and he loathes being apart from it. Luca’s entire character is carefully and intricately constructed, and his appearance plays a crucial part in that construction.
Personal
Luca was born into an unassuming family of traders in one of Hulstead’s bustling cities, just another face in the crowds. As he grew older, his good looks began to blossom, and he soon became a well-known name amongst his neighbors, most noticeably, his neighbors daughters. Despite enjoying this new found popularity, Luca was still a nobody, destined to take over from his father as a trader, and then pass the same position on to his son when the time came.
The young Luca caught glimpses of the great nobles and lords that roamed the city, and he dreamed of walking among them, praying for even a taste of the power that they possessed. He soon had his wishes answered, when he was still a young man of 17, but the taste that he got still is still bitter in his mouth.
Luca’s younger sister, Isabella, had inherited the same looks as he had, and she was stunningly beautiful, sharing the same pale hair, and deep eyes as her brother. Her beauty is what drew Valeriano D’Ascanio to her. An ugly, lecherous young lord, filled with his own pompous pride, and preparing to leave the city with a caravan of silk and hides. Valeriano caught sight of Isabella at the market, and decided he must have her. Despite his status, Isabella rebuked his advances, but the young lord was not a man accustomed to refusal. Following her home, he overpowered her and forced himself upon her, ignoring her pleas and cries.
When Luca came home, he found Valeriano still enthralled in the act, grinning sadistically as he raped Isabella. Without even hesitating, Luca took up the finely-crafted rapier from where it had been tossed on the floor in the young lord’s haste, and ran Valeriano through with it, plunging the blade through the man’s heart. The lord staggered back, shock crossing his face for a moment as blood began to spill from his mouth, before he collapsed to the ground and lay still.
Staggering back himself, Luca was pale-faced, staring at the blood on his hand, and that was beginning to pool on the floor. Isabella was still, the only sound she made a quiet sobbing. The two siblings stayed for a moment, before Luca finally shook himself from his trance. Looking down at the corpse of Valeriano, he was gripped by a grim reality. His life here was over, but a fire lit itself within his heart, a dogged determination that he would not allow this act to damn him.
Quickly taking the clothes from Valeriano’s body and donning them himself, throwing the red cloak over his shoulders to hide the blood that stained the shirt, Luca strapped the rapier to his hip and tied the heavy purse to his belt. The young man turned and rested his forehead against his sister’s for a moment. Neither of them spoke a word, but the two understood each other, and as her sobbing subsided, Isabella watched silently as Luca dragged the body from the room.
Tossing the naked, lifeless corpse into the narrow, muck-filled canal that oozed past the family home, winding through the city, Luca watched for a moment as it sunk beneath the surface, before turning and striding through the city. He barely noticed the nods of respect that his new appearance garnered from the figures he passed, his mind racing ahead of itself as he moved towards the bustling market.
For a few moments, he watched his parents as they laughed and traded with the crowds that moved through the city, drinking it in and searing their faces into his memory, before he turned away. The stones in Valeriano’s purse were more than enough to purchase transport far away from the city. He had new clothes made, in the same fine style as the old ones which he discarded. He always kept the red cloak however, it’s very presence acting as a reminder of his driving ambition. He had seen how the mighty abuse their power, and he would see them all burn in eternal damnation...
Weathered sell-swords were happy to train the young man in exchange for the stones he offered them, and Luca found himself soon becoming a well-trained swordsman as he moved from town to town, slowly losing his driving urge for justice. He left nothing behind him but angry fathers, and husbands, and the reputation of Lord Valeriano D’Ascanio. The lie that he was living began to wash over him, his voice changed, his stance, his mannerisms, all shifted to reflect the arrogant young lord that everyone believed he was. He eventually found out from old merchants that the D’Ascanio family was a wealthy, and proud clan, and that Valeriano had been the estranged son, years away from the family, before his father died and Valeriano found himself with a vast fortune. By chance, there were very few that knew the young lord’s real face, and they were more than willing to accept the one that stood before them.
Years passed, and his reputation only continued to grow. He continued to train, becoming a fine swordsman, but he found that the fortune he had taken from Valeriano was beginning to dwindle, and soon turned to a life as a mercenary. If anything, this only further grew his legend, as he became almost a caricature of himself, his accomplishments embellished and exaggerated. Luca was only too happy to embrace these tales.
Almost ten years went by, Luca roaming to nearly every corner of Peylor, but eventually the thrill of the life of a travelling sellsword faded, and Luca sought a new challenge. The rumors he heard of the great city of Glimhollow intrigued him, and when he finally arrived through the Gateway of the great Glimhollow, he found that his name had preceded him.
Initially making his home in Brenson, Luca grew weary of the strict politics and powerful families that ruled the Gold District and soon found himself drawn towards Shenul. For the thugs that initially saw his fine clothes and fat purse as an invitation, the flash of Luca’s rapier in the dim light was the last thing they ever saw. From then, the legend of his name only continued to grow within the city. He became renowned, not just for his quick sword, but for his charm, and his mysterious past. Nobility barely paid any attention to Shenul, but here was a supposed lord that walked the streets. His reputation soon reached the gangs of the Gray District, and Luca found himself a sought after sell-sword. He was all too happy to oblige, sating a thirst for adventure and action.
All this reputation brought with it more negative attention. The Juggernauts took particular interest in the young lord from outside the city, who had arrived and left a string of dead men, and smiling women, in his wake. But the Juggernauts that patrol the lower levels of the city were all too susceptible to the wealth that Luca promised, despite his dwindling wealth, and he continued his life of revelry and debauchery.
With the Lexian Resistance underway, Luca remembered the promise he had made himself to seek justice, and eventually joined the cause, finding himself working alongside the Dusthawks. Despite the Resistance faltering, Luca found himself drawn to the now famous band of cutthroats and bandits, and began to more and more frequently lend them his services, relishing the thrill of the tasks that the gang carried out.
As the political feud continues to rage within the city, Luca keeps his sword sharp, his dark eyes watching every corner, and though he laughs and smiles, his heart has hardened.
Prime Motive: Adventure
Accessory Motive(s): Retribution, Glory, Justice
Internal Conflict: Luca’s journey began with a crusade for justice against nobility, but he found himself all too quickly drawn into the very web he set out to destroy. He has developed fine tastes, and enjoys the power his position grants him. But the Lexian Resistance has somewhat shaken him from this stupor. His desire for justice now clashes with his own thirst for glory and adventure, and his identity as the dashing nobleman.
Vocational
Occupation: Sellsword
Talents:
Flash of Steel: Luca is a highly skilled swordsman, and although his rapier is not the ideal weapon in the cramped confines of the lower city, he has quickly proven wrong those who underestimate him.
Irresistible Charm: His good looks, and his silver tongue, have proven just as effective a tool as his rapier, whether it’s tasked with talking a barmaid out of her clothes, or a thug out of a fight.
Living Legend: Luca’s name is well-known, in some circles more than others, but his reputation can end some fights before they even begin.
Flaws:
Vanity: A life of success and good living has made Luca arrogant and cocky. Whether this is created, to make his character more believable, or a newly-developed trait, only he can know.
Disloyal: Luca is prone to flights of fancy, and his profession of a Sellsword does not leave him accustomed to loyalty.
Living Legend: Just as Luca’s reputation can aid him, it means he is known not only by those he has wronged, but by the fierce members of the Juggernauts.
Equipment:
-Rosa; Luca’s finely crafted rapier. Only he knows the origins of it’s name, but he carefully cares for it, and has been known to even talk to it as if it were a lover.
-Dagger, kept tucked into his belt.
-Spark Pistol, although Luca does not enjoy using it, as it robs him of the thrill of the duel.
Supplemental
Secrets:
Luca’s entire persona and identity is a lie, a secret known only by himself, and his sister, although he does not know if she is even still alive. Everyone who knows him, knows him as Valeriano.
Although Luca still possesses a sizable fortune, it is greatly diminished from that which he initially took from Valeriano, and he now largely lives off the money he earns as a sellsword.
Quirks:
Luca has an iron liver, and can drink most other men under the table.
Has developed an infatuation for redheads.
Long ago forgotten how to form a meaningful relationship.
Member
Enigmatik