Doublepost in the interests of Sheeets:
Player: Shootandrun
Position: Landless courtier
Full name: Alric Falbrand
Bio: Raised at court in a duchy of Risstan, Alric was born the last heir to the Falbrand family, one of the dynasties claiming to have royal blood still flowing in their veins. He had a relatively sheltered childhood, with his father - the duke - intending to only introduce him to rulership proper once he came of age. He was nevertheless trained in combat and speechcraft, as befits a proper noble, and would have learned a lot about history and other academics if he had paid any attention to those lessons. Surrounded by indulgent servants unwilling to risk the wrath of the ducal heir and with little time to spend with his ever-busy parents, he had a happy - if slightly lonely - childhood. While he learned to be careless and entitled, however, his father was pursuing royal ambitions which soon cost the family almost everything when the king descended upon their court.
The Falbrands chose exile rather than death, and fled Risstan when Alric turned sixteen. A few years were spent in the court of a border baron, with some hopes on his father's part to regain their holdings, and in that time Alric learned to live with far humbler means than he had once been used to, though he resented every second of it. His father's last dreams turned to dust when disease swept through the court, a few years after their arrival; Alric's parents both succumbed to it, and the young man decided it was time for the Falbrand dynasty to abandon Risstan for good. He left at the age of twenty-two for the King's Court in Harmondale, and resided there for the two following years, his father's old rank and family's descent buying him enough goodwill to remain as a courtier.
Traits or resources: King's Blood, Attractive, Lordsman.
Player: Digital Hellhound
Position: Master of the Knights Resplendent
Full Name: Master Constantine Logos Valerian
Bio:
Constantine is a tall, olive-skinned man in his 40s, muscular and battle-scarred. His angular, sculpted features and a beak of a nose mark him out as a Southerner. He has a calm, refined manner befitting of a nobleman, though touch on subjects such as the Empire or the Orcs and you will find him a very passionate and outspoken soul indeed. Constantine dresses well and richly - perhaps too richly for a Northern court - both out and in his armor. Ceremonial sashes in the colors of the rainbow circle his breastplate, while elaborate icons and decorations can be found everywhere on him. The azure eagle of Laurentis is prominently worked into his chest. His helm bears a figure of a woman with fire in her hands, a depiction of an Illosi saint from his homelands. Yet compared to most of his predecessors, Constantine's appearance is downright spartan.
To understand Constantine, one must understand the Knights of Laurentis, or the Knights Resplendent. In the glory days of the Laurelian Empire, countless orders of knights served the realm faithfully and steadfastly against all enemies. Even as enemies dwindled, the orders retained their prestige, wealth and influence. They became a powerful force in Laurelian politics, one much more beloved by the common people than the distant mage-lords. A handful of those houses stood above all others: the Knights Sanguinary, the Knights Tempestuous, the Knights Stalwart... and the Knights Resplendent.
If not the greatest of knightly houses when it came to skill at arms or faith, the Knights Resplendent were perhaps the most beloved, and certainly the most wealthy. The brothers of the order spent that wealth on themselves and their chapter-houses, adopting colorful banners, decorated armors and personalized helms and weapons among other things - but also on extravagant public festivals and ceremonies. It was not unusual for entire districts of Laurentis to flock to the streets to follow a procession of the Knights, mothers even offering up their sons for a chance to join the esteemed order. One could be forgiven to equate such luxury with decadence or weakness, but time and time again the Knights would prove their worth on the battlefield as well.
It would not be enough against the Scourge, as the Orcish invasion would come to be known. The Knights of Laurelia rode out to meet the enemy in a massive force of the houses united. The old Masters relished the chance to destroy the savage threat and once more be hailed as heroes of the Empire. That the beast-race could be of any true danger was inconceivable. The Knights had sat long on old glories and endless victories.
In the Battle of the Imperial Pass, nearly ten thousand knights, the elite of Laurelia's forces, charged into a pass occupied by a small Orcish force. As always, the enemy broke in the face of such splendor and martial excellence. The great army pursued - and quite suddenly found the pass collapsing closed behind them. Thousands died in the rockslides alone, but the true blow was yet to fall. The 'fleeing' Orcish forces suddenly came to a halt and turned back towards their pursuers. From their ranks the elite of the Orcish horde emerged, while Orcish siege engines and mages on the mountainsides began flinging death down at the trapped knights. The general of the Knights, an ancient grandmaster of the Stalwart Order, could not come to grips with the changing situation. Indecision and infighting brought even more chaos into the desperate situation. Attempts at charges out through the Orcish elite found extensive defenses prepared for them.
The battle lasted for hours, and it was a slaughter. Thousands of knights escaped, but the great army was obliterated. They took many Orcs down with them, but it scarcely mattered. There were always more to replace the fallen. The Knights of Laurelia had been destroyed, and they could not so easily be replaced.
The Knights Resplendent escaped a shadow of its former self. Though its wealth was safely locked in chapter-houses around the Empire, the order's numbers had been severely reduced. They could not stop the Scourge from overtaking their beloved Laurelia. Many of the older knights never recovered from the double blow to their numbers and their pride, turning into living dead going through the motions for the rest of their lives.
After the fall of Laurelia, the Knights wandered the Imperial remnants for some time. It was from one of these remnants that Constantine of House Valerian was found - an able and sharp-minded squire who took well to the Knights' ethos and discipline. His rise in the ranks was not swift, but it was steady and relentless. At age thirty he was the second-in-command of the order. His master was an old, bitter man, who had never recovered from the shock of the Battle of the Pass. His acerbic tongue and arrogance led the Knights into political troubles in the remnant duchies again and again. During one petty war where the Knights had ended up on the losing side, he met his end - death in an honorless, insignificant battle over scraps of land somewhere - and so Constantine Logos Valerian became Master of the Knights Resplendent.
Fully aware that they were not welcome in the victors' lands and disillusioned with the lordlings squabbling over the Empire's corpse, Constantine decided to lead the Knights on a new course entirely. He would seek a more worthy ruler to follow north, where the Orcs did not yet rule. The remnants of the Knights Resplendent, seeing the potential for a fresh start, chose to follow him to the strange foreign lands. And so the Knights came to Harmondale, searching for a realm they could once more pledge their banners to. The colorful, gilded southern knights must be a strange sight in these lands, but given the chance they will prove just why they were the Empire's elite.
Traits or resources: Southern Blood, Lordsman, Landed Noble (Knightly Order)
Player: mcclay
Position: Count of Manafell
Full name: Count Hardrick af Silfverstolpe
Bio: The Silfverstolpes are an old family of the Nordric kingdoms, first being ennobled shortly after the withdrawal of the Laurelian Empire from the north. Before that they were a line of raiders and jarls who held camp on the Mana river, trading goods down river and raiding various other settlements as they did. When the Empire fell they swept into the Imperial fortress at the falls of the Mana and established a petty kingdom that was independent for two years before they were brought under the rule of the Nordric kings with a promise of gold and wealth. Over the years they family stopped being bloodthristy raiders and started acting more and more like feudal lords, holding the western most parts of Harmondale even after the Nordric kingdom fell. Some of the family even intermarried with the king's relatives, placing the blood of lords in their veins.
Hardrick is the first son of the late Count Nicolas and his wife the Countess Maria. Nicolas was an honorable, dutiful man who struggled to raise his son to the same standards as he did. The old man stressed the importance of remaining faithful to your liege, being sober in your pleasures and working hard all your life. Hardrick honestly tried to follow those precepts, but he was a wild, silver tongued child from the start. When he was small he would talk the maids into giving him extra cookies and sweets, and when he was older he would talk them into other things. He had a magnetic sort of charisma about him, leading to him gaining a wide variety of followers among the court children and youths that were in Silfverstolpe Castle. While his father tolerated this at first, and even indulged his son by getting him a speech tutor, eventually his patience wore thing. Hardrick's womanizing ways were starting to be more and more noticed by the general populace, and when stories of young men as well of women appearing as his paramours got around the elder Silvferstople put an end to it. Hardrick was sent off to a remote hunting lodge and preparations were made to put his war obsessed younger brother on the throne at Silvferstople Castle. Before this was done a virulent plague ripped through Manafell, killing many, including Hardick's father and brother. Summoned back from exile from his mother Hadrick took control of the County.
Traits or resources: Landed noble (County of Manafell), King's Blood, Speechcraft.
Player: NUKE9.13
Position: Throne Claimant
Full name: Falsktnafn Svertharmathur
Bio: "Really?", asked the guard. "Your name is fakename swordholder?"
Falsktnafn swore under his breath. Just his luck, to meet a guard who knew the old tongue.
"My parents had a unique sense of humour", he said.
The guard looked at him with disdain. "I have no sense of humour, son. I don't know what you want in Harmondale, but-"
Falsktnafn unsheathed his sword, brandishing it before the guard could react. The runes glowed brightly as he caressed the metal. The look of surprise on the guard's face melted away, replaced with deep respect.
"My liege", he said, bowing low. "It is my humble honour to welcome you to Harmondale. Shall I arrange an honour guard?"
"That will not be necessary", Falsktnafn replied, sheathing his sword again.
Surely, his name cannot be real. Yet he insists it is, and so fervent is his apparent conviction that even without the aid of his blade, many find themselves inclined to believe him. When the sword comes out, of course, almost all do.
Where did he find it? He refuses to tell the tale lightly, but when pressed, he will reluctantly answer- although, the answer is never the same twice. The most common story is that fate guided him to it, revealing its location to him as he wandered the wilderness, usually an ancient barrow or temple. Whereupon some divinity or another appeared before him, and commanded him to unite Nordric, restore it to glory, and wage a glorious crusade against the orcs. As mentioned, the details to the story vary wildly. Falsktnafn seems to have either no desire or ability to keep the story straight, and again, thanks to his sword, he rarely needs to.
Because no matter how he acquired it, it is undeniably true that he Acquired it. His attunement with the ancient weapon is nigh-perfect; the runes glow thrice as bright when in his hands (as compared to any random swordsman), and in battle, it is as an extension of his body- on those rare occasions where its magical properties cannot avert a fight, Falsktnafn can carve his way through a dozen common foes without breaking a sweat. Even freshly-forged Runeblades, every speck of magic tailored to their wielder, rarely have a connection so strong. Is it possible that Falsktnafn actually is the rightful heir to Nordric, and his sword truly the legendary Kingmaker, his tale of divine mandate the honest truth?
...well, those who get a good look at the sword in his hands seem to think so.
Traits or resources: Runeblade
Player: Iituem
Position: Earl/Countess/Thane/Whatever Is Appropriate Here
Full name: Helga Gertasdottir
Bio:
Helga is the last of a long, long line of Northwomen to hold the hills over which she claims dominion. Her great-great grandmother bent the knee willingly to the current "Lowland King", as the family has always thought of the monarchy, rather than be destroyed as her neighbours eventually were - absorbing a fair deal of the surrounding land in the process.
Now the line is due to end, as the 63 year old Helga has, despite three widowed husbands, failed to carry a child to term throughout her whole life. Some might believe her vicious, bitter attitude was the result of her barren state, but those few who survive that knew her as a young woman will attest that she was cruel and petty her whole life long. Never a great beauty (and in her age now haggard) the "Dog Rose of the North" was ever named more for her sharp tongue and unwillingness to compromise or shelter her opinions than her looks.
Her age, lack of children and precarious situation of inheritance has left the Dog Rose with any number of rivals who would claim her land - it is unclear whether her paranoia has actually prevented any assassination attempts or if she is just an insane old woman, but she certainly feels that everybody is out to get her land and money and takes steps to prevent this. Her "bondsmen" are less honourable knights and more men and women of questionable character, amoral methods and motivated more by fear and money than loyalty - Helga is known to disappear anyone who even smells of treachery.
Sooner or later this old woman will die, but she seems determined to stave it off for as long as possible and take as many people as she can down with her when she goes.
Traits or resources: Landed, Intrigue, Northern Blood
Player: Shadowclaw
Position: Professional Mercenary Company Leader
Full Name: Astralia Voidtrik
Bio: Astralia
Astralia always had a peculiar way of life in her beginning. She was born and raised under cosmopolitan family, with the family lead, her distant father, being considered a master-level alchemist. Her father taught her in the basic child years of the wonders and application of chemistry, magical theory, and the resources of nature. The father sadly could never have have grown his abilities in the magical aspect of alchemy, it was usually just used for restoration potions. He effectively worked as the local village doctor, which he gotten rather bored of as he wasn't a well nurturing type of person. The wife and her two sisters, loved acting as a nurses for the father but not for Astralia she was smarter from the rest, was just too analytical. She grew up in the local village, always being much more driven and self-motivated compared to the peasants, they all thought of her as a natural-born leader
As Astralia lived in her adolescent years in the alchemist's lab, with the distant father. She often ran hidden-from-view experiments of the magical reagents that created the necessary knowledge of what was thing did what, and you should mix in alchemy. Her father always thought of her as too eccentric and idealistic, and sometimes sadistic. She would too easily create vendettas and be reserved against the villager's teenagers, she always seemed to emanate the emotions of love or happiness, she only focused on logical rationale and finding constant ways of improving herself. While many of the villagers considered to be rather prepossessing, they were always too simple-minded to understood what interested her. Her sisters and mother eventually led to avoidance, with the waning years of her adolescence.
This finally led to the most dramatic change in her life, she always adored combat and out-smarting her foes. She was at the age of a young adult, and didn't want to become a local doctor or alchemist, she was too ambitious. One night at the age of 21, she saw the first soldiers of her life, but they weren't imperial or professional soldiers, just a mercenary band. Her naturally beauty and quick-thinking mind allowed her to easily infiltrate the distant camp from the village. She directly went to the chief's tent and instantly realized it was a scuffed-up female captain in thick hide armor. This dramatic young girl barged into the war camp, and directed that she joined the party. The female captain laughing spontaneously, that this young village women would have any sense of war or combat, but the captain was also entertained by Astralia's patriotism and initiative. After a quick mental test, the captain was anxious and plainly stunned out, Astralia's created multiple strategies to deal with a variety of threats while maintaining perfect regime and control over logistics, all while utilizing highly convoluted words. Her physical abilities as a soldier as mercenary, were of course naturally wanting but she compensated it with the natural logic rhythm and knowledge of the alchemical arts. She was employed at the apprentice doctor for the mercenary company, but her knowledge of the arcane arts and alchemy, plus a ridiculous quick-thinking mind made her way more skilled than even a veteran war doctor.
Conclusively up to her years of youngish adult, she was employed as a constant leading warband doctor, with the other lead doctor retiring after learning that fine talent is always at the ready and his age at an end. She seen her fair share of war wounds, and was never disgusted or even repulsed the slightest of flinch. Hundreds of the soldiers that were employed in the company, all had a wound treatment and many survived because of Astralia. She also assisted the captain, with many decisions on strategy and tactics, resulting in less losses and much more successes. One battle employed by the mercenary band was just too heavy, it was a battle of 1000 orcs against the company of 200. The strategy was not utilized correctly to the soldier's which led to a crucial mistake of the death of the female captain, but a quick-second correct judgment of Astralia's flanking tactics allowed them to win. The dawning night of battle meant their had to be a new leader for the mercenary company, which conclusively led to Astralia, a great tactician was needed, and having knowledge of the mystical arts also helped.
At the age of 26, she was the leader of a fine mercenary band. She made great wealth and attention to the company, but she spent more of her wealth on the mystical arts, improving her ability to become an effective mage and leader. Her self-motivation is too great to stop here, her vendetta against slaughtering orc, even the women and children too, have not been sated.
Traits and Resources: Tactician, Observant, Mystical Inclinations
Player: Tack
Profession: Head Servant
Full name: Mavi Diventrade of Helmwood, Master of the Hall
Bio:
Mavi is an invaluable pariah of the court. Chief Servant and Master of the Hall, his is the highest position one can hold without the prerequisites of blood or wealth.
He is known for being both insouciant and accomodating, a possibly welcome relief from a line of unrepentantly stuffy and aggrandised butlers before him. Regardless, this has made him a fountain of information as the lives of every servant and maid in the palace wends its way through his fingertips.
The uninformed would call him a gossip, the wealthy refer to him as a rumorbroker, whilst those in power know him by his role of Spymaster to the king.
Whilst his casual air and vaguely amorphous loyalty has probably saved him from the knife so far, considering the 'worst kept secret' of his profession, his recent promotion has shown itself to be a lethally transparent job.
There is rumour that he has been frantically grooming other servants to take over his responsibilities, so he can fall into working retirement peacefully.
That being said, he still retains many skills from his heyday, and has been referred to as "the knife knight" or "the king's crossed fingers" by less appreciative onlookers.
Traits and Resources: Knifework, Intrigue
Player: Ghazkull
Position: Wandering Adventurer/Mercenary/Sellsword/Bandit/Pirate/You name it we have it
Full name:
DomnallBio: The son of one of the legendary Nordan Runesmiths, Domnall grew up pretty much as anyone else among the Highland Nordans would. A clanswarrior, smith by trade and wandering sellsword by Choice, Domnall has seen much of what once was the Laurelian Empire. Now however he has set his eyes on serving the Lords and Kings of the Lowlands. A towering giant of a man, years a the runeforge of his father, has made him powerful, hunting in the highlands quick and enduring and years as a sellsword deadly with a blade. Quick to anger, an excessive lust for drinking and his general character would mark him as a terribly cliché character in any Lowland Play. In reality it makes him a violent, unstable, braggart and drunk with a keen tongue and a keener blade.
Traits or resources: Armsman, Athletic, Attractive (the three big As)
Player: Roboson
Position: Archmage
Full name: Luwald Armiles IV
Bio: Luwald was an exemplary mage from the beginning of his career. Born as the son of a powerful baron, and royal noble, Luwald had little to care for. His young years were spent studying and it was quickly discovered he had magical talent that would serve him in his later career. He had a strong grasp of magical principles that certainly gave him an edge over the competition. At first it appeared the Luwald would be unable to climb the hierarchy very far at all. His magical talent removed the need for him to study and work as hard as others. His devotion was occasionally painfully lacking, and his superiors were convinced he would never have what it takes to climb the heriarchy. This frustrated Luwald and he spent a great deal of time travelling the various abbeys, temples, and holy sites. Along this journey he gained some level of humility and gained a greater sense of purpose and awe for the Cult of Illos. It was not however until he began to see the darkness that Luwald finally gained the devotion he was sorely lacking. After a terrible encounter with an impossibly dark entity, Luwald found his devotion. He had seen evil, had watched it destroy his fellows while he was too weak to fight it, and it had looked back at him with its unholy eyes. Luwald was forever a changed man, and with newfound devotion and dedication, he rose to the position of Archmage. Later though his father passed away and Luwald inherited not only his family's land, but also their political involvement. Though Luwald was ultimately dedicated to the Cult, he found politics intriguing and would occasionally dabble when appropriate.
Traits or resources: Landed noble, Scholarship, Kingsblood
Player: micelus
Position: Adventurer/Mercenary (in the historical rather than fantasy sense)
Full name: Altandai kryz Novyz
Bio:
Oh dear lass, oh dear lass
Do you remember
old Szaely land?
Its field were white and rotten brown
its honey like an old bear's frown
The ladies like snow and grain
The gents like steel and bone...
Oh, old Szaely, oh old Szaely,
Its cities were doomed,
its peoples fat,
its cows heavy
and the snows light!
Its field were white and rotten brown
its honey like an old bear's frown
The ladies like snow and grain
The gents like steel and bone...
Oh, old Szaely, oh old Szaely,
your riches and your finery
your princes and your britches,
were good memories
for a man!
Its field were white and rotten brown
its honey like an old bear's frown
The ladies like snow and grain
The gents like steel and bone...
Oh, old Szaely, oh old Szaely,
you burnt like a old oak,
your jewels and your serfs,
now our cattle
now on the way
to the slaver's cantle!
-Clan Novyz's main travelling song
Altandai is a woman of some infamy. The second child of a renowned chieftain, the death of her older brother at a young age led him to declare his daughter male. Amongst the steppe tribes of the Ghodesh, such an action was not unheard off. Women often fought alongside men and it was certainly true to that amongst families with too many women, some were made into men. As such, the female Eshi died and the male Altandai was born. From then onward, Altandai was raised to become successor of his father's clan. Indeed, up until his death, Altandai had been expecting the leadership to come easily to him. After all, he had been declared heir and was raised as one.
Of course, such things were not to be. As her father laid dying, his uncle declared him unfit for the command, citing his Lack of 'Equipment'. While Altandai initially had support from his father's warriors, dear uncle's wealth, friendship and with other clans, and 'concern for future leadership of the Clan' soon led to him 'willingly' stepping down. While the expected course of action was to serve the clan regardless now that he had lost the succession, Altandai was not one to accept such loss. As such, he fled in the night bringing the ancestral bow, Crowsmitten, with him into the greater world.
Of course, without Crowsmitten, dear uncle would be a laughingstock. A bey without their ancestral bow was a bey uncrowned, after all. Not wanting to deal with his anger, Altandai booked it for a realm as far as possible that needed a military commander. Across the known world, perhaps...There he would have to pass as she, he thought...
Traits or resources:
Family Heirloom Weapon: Crowsmitten, composite bow. Imbued with the soul of the clan's founder and with a bit o' magic or some dreamer's herbs (hallucinogenics), the bearer may commune with the spirit for advice. Usually, this is useful for statecraft or war.
Logistics
Also, unsure if I should be joining the campaign or manning the castle.
Author
Topic: You are King! - Crown of the North [OOC] (Recruiting players!) (Read 8284 times)