Member
Danyel
Letter Bee
Polaris North
Rune_Alchemist
Creative Chaos
cosmiccowgirlDID SOMEONE ORDER ANOTHER GLASS CANNON?!
A man of his country, and a pragmatist of the highest order - bordering on near paranoia, even. On the outside, he's as stoic and silent as the mountains he watches over, and people will find it hard to crack that austere persona of his. He is a realist to the core who never gives in to flights of fancy, he is blunt and to the point, and he does everything as efficiently as possible, from eating to speaking. Practicality is the first thing on his mind when considering a choice of action - that being said, it is obvious his social skills are somewhat lacking, as he can often come off as rude, something that frustrates him to no end.
Due to his personality he is a superb tactician and strategist, ever calm in the face of danger and able to fluidly go from one plan to the next, and knows just when to fold his cards and admit defeat when needed (though this is only on the basis that he loses the battle, not the war) and move on from there. He prefers to take the initiative, so as not to get flatfooted, and as such is traditionally an aggressive person in combat.
While he puts his country and house foremost, he is does not behold himself strictly to its written laws, and is willing to bend or break them in order to pursue greater ends.
Simple description:
Lean but muscular, with short curly red hair and sharp golden eyes, and stands at 5'11'' in height.
Most often seen in practical, easy-to-maneuver in clothing, no matter what the occasion. In battle he dons a simple dark blue gambeson, fortified with jack chains for a small measure of defense.
Name:
Cain
Title:
"Lightning Lord"; Lord Cain, Son of Marquess Donovan
Age:
20
Class:
Myrmidon
Sexuality:
Heterosexual
Alignment:
True Neutral
Home:
Lycia, House Tania
Cain
Title:
"Lightning Lord"; Lord Cain, Son of Marquess Donovan
Age:
20
Class:
Myrmidon
Sexuality:
Heterosexual
Alignment:
True Neutral
Home:
Lycia, House Tania
Equipment:
- Iron Sword
- Vulnerary (x3)
Economy: 500
Personality:
A man of his country, and a pragmatist of the highest order - bordering on near paranoia, even. On the outside, he's as stoic and silent as the mountains he watches over, and people will find it hard to crack that austere persona of his. He is a realist to the core who never gives in to flights of fancy, he is blunt and to the point, and he does everything as efficiently as possible, from eating to speaking. Practicality is the first thing on his mind when considering a choice of action - that being said, it is obvious his social skills are somewhat lacking, as he can often come off as rude, something that frustrates him to no end.
Due to his personality he is a superb tactician and strategist, ever calm in the face of danger and able to fluidly go from one plan to the next, and knows just when to fold his cards and admit defeat when needed (though this is only on the basis that he loses the battle, not the war) and move on from there. He prefers to take the initiative, so as not to get flatfooted, and as such is traditionally an aggressive person in combat.
While he puts his country and house foremost, he is does not behold himself strictly to its written laws, and is willing to bend or break them in order to pursue greater ends.
Cain did little to hide his disgust.
It was a splendid party, with an abundance of scrumptious food arrayed over a buffet of tables as far as the eye could see, magnificent decor, sensational, exotic, performances, and beautiful serving girls who could cater to your every delight and tickle one's fancy like nothing else but a woman's charm could. Truly, his father had outdone himself of presentation; he had no doubt whatsoever that this occasion would be the jealousy of all those that failed to arrive at his invitation. It would go down in history as the most lavish party in the history of Lycia.
There was only one problem, however . . .
"This was NOT what I had in mind when I called for a war council father!" he spat, his angry outburst attracting the attention of nearby guests, who began whispering among themselves. He could care less about how he sounded right now - probably like an insolent child - in fact, he wanted these lazy oafs to here him!
"N-now, now son," his father began, using the same, grovelling tone he employed whenever he wanted to avoid confrontation.
He'd used it on the formerly prince, but now King of Bern, he'd used it on the Marquess of Ostia, and now, as if to display his utter spinelessness for all the world to see, he used it on his own son.
Cain wasn't having it. "Bern is on the verge of igniting a kingdom-wide slaughter, and you're wasting our lands time and resources on a party?" he accused. "Do you realize, that when Bern begins it's push west, that we are the first territory that they will engage?" He had the statistics run by scholars, before double checking it himself - there was 2/3rd's chance that they would be the first Lycian territory to be hit by the Bern warmachine if war broke out. With recent developments, Cain was sure that it would, the only factor that remained unknown was when.
"If you're strategy is to drain our land of resources to the point where Bern doesn't even feel the need to trample all over us, then you're doing a remarkable job. At this rate, not even bandits would bothered raiding our homes."
And the worst part was, Cain wasn't in the practice of hyperbole. If he said something, then it was undeniable truth - or at least as close to the truth as he could get, and with the way his father and his cronies burnt through resources, he had no doubt that their house would go bankrupt in a mere two-to-three generations.
It was a splendid party, with an abundance of scrumptious food arrayed over a buffet of tables as far as the eye could see, magnificent decor, sensational, exotic, performances, and beautiful serving girls who could cater to your every delight and tickle one's fancy like nothing else but a woman's charm could. Truly, his father had outdone himself of presentation; he had no doubt whatsoever that this occasion would be the jealousy of all those that failed to arrive at his invitation. It would go down in history as the most lavish party in the history of Lycia.
There was only one problem, however . . .
"This was NOT what I had in mind when I called for a war council father!" he spat, his angry outburst attracting the attention of nearby guests, who began whispering among themselves. He could care less about how he sounded right now - probably like an insolent child - in fact, he wanted these lazy oafs to here him!
"N-now, now son," his father began, using the same, grovelling tone he employed whenever he wanted to avoid confrontation.
He'd used it on the formerly prince, but now King of Bern, he'd used it on the Marquess of Ostia, and now, as if to display his utter spinelessness for all the world to see, he used it on his own son.
Cain wasn't having it. "Bern is on the verge of igniting a kingdom-wide slaughter, and you're wasting our lands time and resources on a party?" he accused. "Do you realize, that when Bern begins it's push west, that we are the first territory that they will engage?" He had the statistics run by scholars, before double checking it himself - there was 2/3rd's chance that they would be the first Lycian territory to be hit by the Bern warmachine if war broke out. With recent developments, Cain was sure that it would, the only factor that remained unknown was when.
"If you're strategy is to drain our land of resources to the point where Bern doesn't even feel the need to trample all over us, then you're doing a remarkable job. At this rate, not even bandits would bothered raiding our homes."
And the worst part was, Cain wasn't in the practice of hyperbole. If he said something, then it was undeniable truth - or at least as close to the truth as he could get, and with the way his father and his cronies burnt through resources, he had no doubt that their house would go bankrupt in a mere two-to-three generations.
Simple description:
Lean but muscular, with short curly red hair and sharp golden eyes, and stands at 5'11'' in height.
Most often seen in practical, easy-to-maneuver in clothing, no matter what the occasion. In battle he dons a simple dark blue gambeson, fortified with jack chains for a small measure of defense.
Level: 1
Basestats:Health Points: 13
Strength: 5
Skill: 12
Speed: 12
Luck: 0
Defense: 2
Resistance: 1
Growths
Health Points: 50%
Strength: 50%
Skill: 120%
Speed: 80%
Luck: 5%
Defense: 30%
Resistance: 25%