VeridianSeeker — Roleplayer Guild

Well, the following is just my opinion so please don't get me wrong, but from my understanding of the virtues I can only strongly advice against considering the 'violence' virtue being equal to 'physically AND mentally ready to slaughter everything' or the like.

Being capable of being physically violent doesn't necessarily mean that one's personality is eager to actually do that. I see much more in the violence virtue than fighting. What if we're confronted with some obstacle that needs to get shoved out of the way ? Or we have wounded that need to be carried along. Etc. etc. Actually the 'violence' in my character is meant more this way than the other. Otherwise I'd have given him the skill to go melee very effectively. It is meant more as an utility and emergency function :)@Fetzen

Okay, I can see your point. 

@Nib Can't wait to see him interact with everyone else!

Dobromil Vavrinec Zivon

(credit “Katorus” on DeviantArt.)

 Born in the Kingdom of Bohemia, Dobromil was one son of many. He hailed from a long line of impoverished commoners, being born to dirt, to work the dirt. His only true friends were his many brothers, the small group of youths relying on each other to scrape by in the cruel world. Their parents were regarded as equals to the brothers, all each scrambling to live in an equal manner of desperation, and thus that was how they lived. 

Knowing that life could not continue in the fashion that it began the brothers slowly dispersed across the world, marrying into families and trades, doing whatever it took to leave and forget what they came from. Dobromil eventually found himself alone as a young man, with everything he should have had by now not in his possession. He did not live a conventional life, he did not follow the path most took, he couldn’t afford to and now he paid the fee. He was destined to walk a path that ebbed oddly by the traditional, but could never quite be.

He often wondered if his brothers ever felt the way he began to feel. Every time he looked at himself, he knew he was different. In taverns full of friends he felt alone. His true feelings were never voiced, his true desires never revealed, he felt no one could quite understand. In the past he had opened up, but it had never fruitioned past disappointment. In himself he had to find contentment, and contentment he couldn’t find. While the world owed the errant brother of poverty nothing, he couldn’t help but want what others seemed to naturally have...

And want he did. His life lead him down many paths, each trying to fill the growing void in his spirit. He knew he had skills, and he used them to get what he wanted. He manipulated those around him, he lied, he cheated, he harmed, but always with a smile. He knew the truth inside him was always met with disappointment so he let lies out instead. He told people what they wanted and he got what he wanted. No matter what he gained, he couldn’t feel satisfaction, and one might call him greedy for this, but it wasn’t greed.

Onward he went with life and he noticed other things, such as love, families, kinship, and he longed for it. Days would go by in which he would hold his head and cry to the night sky, saddened that he couldn’t have what others had. He wanted love, he wanted a family, to be understood, to have a partner in this life, but he was older now, years past when he was supposed to meet his bride. Still he craved it. Some might call him lustful, but that wasn’t what drove him.

He had to be strong, and so strong he was. He boasted, he flew the colours of confidence. He never let his guard down. He strove to be the best, to be better than those around him. Perhaps through deed he could forget his insignificance, perhaps through action he could forget his desires. He saw what others did, and he craved it, and so he would try to do them better, for better or worse. Some may call him proud, but that wasn’t the truth.

No, while he held greed, lust and pride in his hands, he knew that wasn’t what drove him to compare himself to others, that wasn’t what lit the fire in his stomach or kept him up at night. He wanted love like others had, he wanted to be recognized like the greats around him, he wanted comfort like a normal person may find, to be able to enjoy his friends, to be able to enjoy his life, he just wanted what any human wants, but in this human condition he found himself slave to the most devious of all sins, envy.

Nights would flow by where he would contemplate in the moonlight the nature of his sin, and what he could possibly do. Now, many deaths have passed him by and many thought filled nights have occupied his unconventional mind, and at some point he had finally broken himself in a fit of guilt. He swore off sin, he swore off what had driven him this far, he swore to change, and thus he took his own burdens upon himself in hopes that one day he can forgive himself of being human, of being jealous, and perhaps one day he may find some answers to the questions that began this all, and perhaps it is the Light who held them. Maybe she will be able to settle his guilt, tell him how wrong he was, what terrible things he had done, what was just being human and what was being evil, and what he can do to feel contentment. 

Taking his burden he took to seeking her out. He let his body and mind be punished by the malicious purgatory around him and he let his vices grow hungry. He would no longer feed them at any cost, in hopes to starve that dark side of humanity that dwells within us all. 

Sworn not to harm. Dobromil refuses to physically hurt anything living, the guilt in his chest not allowing him to do so, least wrath be fed, and his sins grown. This has cost him a lot of torture in the hellscape the world now dwells in, but he will not bend to sin. Because of this, his ability to be wrathful and commit violence has withered to almost nothing.
Sworn not to lie. Only truth and honesty will Dobromil speak. No matter the punishment, he has sworn to his guilt not to add to the long list of lies that burdens him. This has cost him many years of patience and even some lives, but he will not give in. Because of this, his old silvertongue is now a rusty spoon, blunt and only dishing out bitter truths that no one is thrilled to hear.
Lonely. Some curses can’t be cast away by simply swearing to be better. Somethings must be lived with and will never be lifted from you as a reward. To expect such things is foolish in life. No matter how good you may perceive yourself, if it is innate, it is innate, and such the curse of loneliness follows Dobromil. Even when surrounded by companions, he will never find a connection that is true, and he will suffer for it.
Conflicted. Even with his goals set straight he often fights with himself. He still has desires, he still has needs and wants, and often he thinks through each and every feeling to make sure it is not malicious or selfish, to avoid sin. This is a lot for one mind to do, and can leave him exhausted or unsure.
An acceptance made in distress. To add to the loneliness of Dobromil, is his acceptance that he is alone. He will not go out of his way to accumulate friends, nor does he find much purpose in anything superficial. He will willingly work in a team and pull his weight, but feels no obligation to tease himself with the ideas of true companionship.
The Cynic. Cynicism is the price of philosophy. The more Dobromil ponders his situation and the ways of the world, the more bitter he finds himself. While he does not think himself above it, he feels that a cynical conclusion is appropriate when thinking about others. Because of this, despite his own rigorous self discipline and goals, he will not go out of his way to correct another, nor will he attempt to pay any mind to their own actions. If it doesn’t involve him, it doesn’t involve him. This is to not say he is selfish, or completely without compassion.
Jaded. The step after the cynic, Dobromil has dwelled far too long on the bed of nails that is his own experiences and thus formed a thick callused cocoon in which he lays. There is little that excites him anymore, little to expect, and little to care for. He does however, make an exception for all things knowledge.
Depressed. If you hadn’t guessed it, here it is. Dobromil is a classic example of depression. Whether it started this or merely was a symptom throughout time is uncertain. Either way, Dobromil experiences the many folded effects of depression, with only his aspiration of redemption, answers, self-aware stubbornness and hunger for the truth moving him forward.

Will.If there is any tool that Dobromil relies on, it is will. He is stubborn to let it break, and he nurses it at every opportunity. He will not allow himself to be taken again by sin, he will not add to the dark pool that is his past. Because of this, he will tolerate any amount of pain both physical and mental to remain on the path of redemption, and expose himself to terrible punishment without hesitation or flinching if it means staying true to himself and his cause. He has died many times for this arguably foolish yet noble gesture.
Awareness. He knows what he did, and he knows what he is doing now. He has felt his guilt, and felt the weight of his crimes. He will not try to justify his mistakes but neither will he sell himself short or allow them to be blown further out of proportion.
Knowledge. His jaded and cynical behavior has all but killed his chances at socializing, but in turn it opened up his time to studies, and study he did. Dobromil has immersed himself in the humanities and the occult, soaking up any information he can find. Perhaps this is simply an excuse to think about something other than his personal damnation, or perhaps he truly has a natural interest. Luckily, some of his studies had ventured into the medicinal fields, aiding him greatly for when he or a friend decides to turn the other cheek at a very violent individual.
Hymn. Through his studies and his endless journey, Dobromil has obtained the knowledge and ability to perform hymns under certain conditions. He has specialized in self healing and the tending of other’s injuries, his own vast physical and mental torments presenting him with experience in treating many different types of wounds. Also, a little light in the endless dark never hurt, until it attracts something.

Violence: I (Man)
Fortitude: X
Soul: X
Passion: I
Perception: IV
Command: 0

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Because I like colours and seeking things.

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