Leontius(Sextimus first alt)
Jun 29, 2011 3:50:32 GMT -6
Post by Leontius on Jun 29, 2011 3:50:32 GMT -6
Name: Leontius Aurelei
Class: Mercenary --> Hero
Hair Color: Light Blue
Eye Color: Orange
Age: 35
Appearance: Leontius has drooping, spiked, light blue hair, a patch of it covers his right eye, or at least what's left of it. His left eye is a pale orange, which is almost always in a narrow, observant, and piercing watch. Leon has a pair of scars between the left underside of his mouth, sliding slightly onto his cheek. The pair of scars resemble something left by a wild creature more then a wound by a weapon. Like most Ilians, his skin is rather pale, and he bears a stern expression, one forged by years of bracing the frigid land winds and snow of Ilia. His ears and head are round. He stands shorter then his younger brother, Sextimus, at about 5'7". His body is well built, capable of bearing a heavy set of armor and even more capable of bearing a secondary pauldron.
Clothes: Leontius wears a set of chain mail armor covering all of his torso, from the waist, to the wrists, and to the neck. This is concealed by a clean blue cloth, attended to with great care. The cloth also hides a moderately iron sword kept in a hilt as gray as stone. Upon his shoulder rests a heavy set dark, blue-green steel pauldron, with a silver trim. His neck is protected by an armored collar, which also has a silver trim. He has snowy white boots and dark blue pants.
Born in: Ilia
Story: Leontius was chosen to be the bread winner of his family at a very young age. While he was the third child of a very lucrative merchant family, one that specialized in the selling of war steeds, he showed more aspiration, more will, more promise then did his older siblings. In brawls with his brother and sis, he was always came out on top. There was even a time when he pinned both of them down. So, his parents doted on him, as anyone who wished to create a prodigy would. They fed him the best out of the meals they had, the most attention, and the most rewarding of exercises and weapon training. Yes, they expected him to strive for toward great things, and maybe he would have. But, during his teenage years when he felt invincible and knew decent knowledge of the blade, his ambition would shatter, as would a window pane at the kiss of hurtling rock.
Had you seen Leon before, when he was a bright-eyed, hopeful child, you would never imagine that he would grow into the stern, bitter, watchdog that he is today. As his skill in the blade grew, Leon's confidence crept over him, like a welcomed cancer. By his seventeenth training victory at age sixteen, his parents suggested he pit his abilities against a more fearsome foe. He suggested bandits, real mercenary work, they suggested a trained mountain cat, in an attempt to appease him. They tided him over by offering to sign him up with a mercenary contract if he proved he could take on the cat.
And so, he was brought to fight the cat, a controlled one on one. Confident in himself, knowing that he was fighting a trained cat, Leon felt he had little to fear. If it tried to do any real harm to him, then it would be called off, no worries. He taunted the beast, pricking it with his blade here and there, eventually backing the scared beast into a corner. Just as Leon had considered himself the victor, the cat lept forward, claws bared, and maw wide open. All Leon could do was widen his eyes, as his sword arm failed him and his legs turned to jelly. The cat connected with his frame and unleashed a flurry of slashes. Petrified and feeling an unprecedented pain Leon merely flailed on the ground as the cat tore at his chin and chest, until finally, its paw landed directly on his right eye. That paw was the last thing that eye of his saw. Just as soon as the cat had robbed him of his vision it was swatted off away by his father. Leon realled from the shock as his parents held him in their arms, desparately crying for the nearby staff user. Leon's good eye searched his surroundings frantically as he tried to grasp some comprehension of his surroundings. The trauma began to fade as he saw a staff user approach. His father told the medic something Leon couldn't understand at that point and left his side. Curious and afraid, Leon's left eye followed his father as he approached the cat that had struck him. His dad began kicking the creature and grabbed a spear, swatting it from side to side. As Leon saw this, he felt a pleasure surge through his body, he relished the sight of vengeance. In the midst of this brutal display, Leon felt his wounds close up. He felt the rejuvinating powers of the staff fill him. His pleasure began to cease. He went from a mild cheer to complete silence. And as he watched his father beat the beast into a bloody pulp, he found himself feeling regretful, feeling terrified, feeling wrong. It's head crashed to the ground as his father thrusted the blunt end of the spear at the creature's skull. Blood poured from its mouth and marred its beautious fur as it was tossed about. "No.." Leon whispered. "No." He tried to shout. This was wrong, why was the cat paying for his brashness, his reckless behavior. He watched in horror until his dad raised the spear high above his head. The cat looked at him meekly, its eyes weak, its will broken, its body... broken. And then his father thrust the spear towards its head. And in that moment, there was not a sound.
During the following days, Leon secluded himself to reflect on the event. He looked at his scarred body and at the carcass his dreams had given him. His plans, his person were in doubt, for the first time he questioned his desires. But the world didn't stop for Leon to find himself. After three days his parents made him begin his training again. Reluctantly, he continued his bladework and became a mercenary, taking jobs here and there, learning more about the world. Despite his dreams of youth, he never did forge a famous title as a mercenary, much to the chagrin of his mother and father. The farthest he would go was the creation of a small mercenary company made up of about twelve sell-swords. Upon the realization that their prized son was comfortable as he was, his parents began to focus more attention on the siblings who showed promise. In response, Leon made sure that whatever work his group picked was local, or at least, he'd never have to leave Ilia in order to accomplish it. Leon didn't despise or hold a grudge with his parents for what had happened when he was nineteen, but he knew they could be reckless, and that they had an ambition that reached as far as his once did. So, although he would never admit it, he became a watchdog for his family.
His work has been varied and numerous. Sometimes he'd have to chase off bandits, other times give his siblings his counsel. There was one time when his younger brother, Sextimus, taunted and subsequenly led a group of border bandits to his family's farm. With the help of some potential buyers, and his company of mercs, Leon's force charged into the bandits. The result was like a pair of rhino's charging into each other. It was daring, only one of them would come out unscathed, the other would be left a bloody ragdoll, hoisted high in the air. The bandits ran off, terrified, after the initial charge. It was unlikely that they would ever set their eyes on the farm again. Even so, Leon planned on disciplining his little brother. The plan was taken of his hands however, when his parents turned Sextimus into a work mule, much to Leon's distaste. He smiled the day a gray cloaked figure rode the family's most prized war horse off to the East.
He would be the one to urge his sister, Domitiana, to leave the family farm due to her love for adventure. He is also the only person who she confided her location to. She told him that she would return within a couple of years, however two have passed and she has yet to show her face. Leon does not worry though, she's the only axe-wielding woman he knows of after all.
With dedication to his family like that, one would never expect him to leave them. However, Leon has taken note that conflict is spreading like wildfire across Elibe. The Prophet's Holy War is taking more lives by the day, and it is rumored that the unrest in Bern will turn into full blown rebellion. Leon knows that he won't be able to protect the people he cares about if the fighting spread into Ilia. So, using his parents connections he has landed a contract with the military and is currently en route to Bern
Class: Mercenary --> Hero
Hair Color: Light Blue
Eye Color: Orange
Age: 35
Appearance: Leontius has drooping, spiked, light blue hair, a patch of it covers his right eye, or at least what's left of it. His left eye is a pale orange, which is almost always in a narrow, observant, and piercing watch. Leon has a pair of scars between the left underside of his mouth, sliding slightly onto his cheek. The pair of scars resemble something left by a wild creature more then a wound by a weapon. Like most Ilians, his skin is rather pale, and he bears a stern expression, one forged by years of bracing the frigid land winds and snow of Ilia. His ears and head are round. He stands shorter then his younger brother, Sextimus, at about 5'7". His body is well built, capable of bearing a heavy set of armor and even more capable of bearing a secondary pauldron.
Clothes: Leontius wears a set of chain mail armor covering all of his torso, from the waist, to the wrists, and to the neck. This is concealed by a clean blue cloth, attended to with great care. The cloth also hides a moderately iron sword kept in a hilt as gray as stone. Upon his shoulder rests a heavy set dark, blue-green steel pauldron, with a silver trim. His neck is protected by an armored collar, which also has a silver trim. He has snowy white boots and dark blue pants.
Born in: Ilia
Story: Leontius was chosen to be the bread winner of his family at a very young age. While he was the third child of a very lucrative merchant family, one that specialized in the selling of war steeds, he showed more aspiration, more will, more promise then did his older siblings. In brawls with his brother and sis, he was always came out on top. There was even a time when he pinned both of them down. So, his parents doted on him, as anyone who wished to create a prodigy would. They fed him the best out of the meals they had, the most attention, and the most rewarding of exercises and weapon training. Yes, they expected him to strive for toward great things, and maybe he would have. But, during his teenage years when he felt invincible and knew decent knowledge of the blade, his ambition would shatter, as would a window pane at the kiss of hurtling rock.
Had you seen Leon before, when he was a bright-eyed, hopeful child, you would never imagine that he would grow into the stern, bitter, watchdog that he is today. As his skill in the blade grew, Leon's confidence crept over him, like a welcomed cancer. By his seventeenth training victory at age sixteen, his parents suggested he pit his abilities against a more fearsome foe. He suggested bandits, real mercenary work, they suggested a trained mountain cat, in an attempt to appease him. They tided him over by offering to sign him up with a mercenary contract if he proved he could take on the cat.
And so, he was brought to fight the cat, a controlled one on one. Confident in himself, knowing that he was fighting a trained cat, Leon felt he had little to fear. If it tried to do any real harm to him, then it would be called off, no worries. He taunted the beast, pricking it with his blade here and there, eventually backing the scared beast into a corner. Just as Leon had considered himself the victor, the cat lept forward, claws bared, and maw wide open. All Leon could do was widen his eyes, as his sword arm failed him and his legs turned to jelly. The cat connected with his frame and unleashed a flurry of slashes. Petrified and feeling an unprecedented pain Leon merely flailed on the ground as the cat tore at his chin and chest, until finally, its paw landed directly on his right eye. That paw was the last thing that eye of his saw. Just as soon as the cat had robbed him of his vision it was swatted off away by his father. Leon realled from the shock as his parents held him in their arms, desparately crying for the nearby staff user. Leon's good eye searched his surroundings frantically as he tried to grasp some comprehension of his surroundings. The trauma began to fade as he saw a staff user approach. His father told the medic something Leon couldn't understand at that point and left his side. Curious and afraid, Leon's left eye followed his father as he approached the cat that had struck him. His dad began kicking the creature and grabbed a spear, swatting it from side to side. As Leon saw this, he felt a pleasure surge through his body, he relished the sight of vengeance. In the midst of this brutal display, Leon felt his wounds close up. He felt the rejuvinating powers of the staff fill him. His pleasure began to cease. He went from a mild cheer to complete silence. And as he watched his father beat the beast into a bloody pulp, he found himself feeling regretful, feeling terrified, feeling wrong. It's head crashed to the ground as his father thrusted the blunt end of the spear at the creature's skull. Blood poured from its mouth and marred its beautious fur as it was tossed about. "No.." Leon whispered. "No." He tried to shout. This was wrong, why was the cat paying for his brashness, his reckless behavior. He watched in horror until his dad raised the spear high above his head. The cat looked at him meekly, its eyes weak, its will broken, its body... broken. And then his father thrust the spear towards its head. And in that moment, there was not a sound.
During the following days, Leon secluded himself to reflect on the event. He looked at his scarred body and at the carcass his dreams had given him. His plans, his person were in doubt, for the first time he questioned his desires. But the world didn't stop for Leon to find himself. After three days his parents made him begin his training again. Reluctantly, he continued his bladework and became a mercenary, taking jobs here and there, learning more about the world. Despite his dreams of youth, he never did forge a famous title as a mercenary, much to the chagrin of his mother and father. The farthest he would go was the creation of a small mercenary company made up of about twelve sell-swords. Upon the realization that their prized son was comfortable as he was, his parents began to focus more attention on the siblings who showed promise. In response, Leon made sure that whatever work his group picked was local, or at least, he'd never have to leave Ilia in order to accomplish it. Leon didn't despise or hold a grudge with his parents for what had happened when he was nineteen, but he knew they could be reckless, and that they had an ambition that reached as far as his once did. So, although he would never admit it, he became a watchdog for his family.
His work has been varied and numerous. Sometimes he'd have to chase off bandits, other times give his siblings his counsel. There was one time when his younger brother, Sextimus, taunted and subsequenly led a group of border bandits to his family's farm. With the help of some potential buyers, and his company of mercs, Leon's force charged into the bandits. The result was like a pair of rhino's charging into each other. It was daring, only one of them would come out unscathed, the other would be left a bloody ragdoll, hoisted high in the air. The bandits ran off, terrified, after the initial charge. It was unlikely that they would ever set their eyes on the farm again. Even so, Leon planned on disciplining his little brother. The plan was taken of his hands however, when his parents turned Sextimus into a work mule, much to Leon's distaste. He smiled the day a gray cloaked figure rode the family's most prized war horse off to the East.
He would be the one to urge his sister, Domitiana, to leave the family farm due to her love for adventure. He is also the only person who she confided her location to. She told him that she would return within a couple of years, however two have passed and she has yet to show her face. Leon does not worry though, she's the only axe-wielding woman he knows of after all.
With dedication to his family like that, one would never expect him to leave them. However, Leon has taken note that conflict is spreading like wildfire across Elibe. The Prophet's Holy War is taking more lives by the day, and it is rumored that the unrest in Bern will turn into full blown rebellion. Leon knows that he won't be able to protect the people he cares about if the fighting spread into Ilia. So, using his parents connections he has landed a contract with the military and is currently en route to Bern
