Valerius (Ars Alt)
Sept 7, 2019 11:27:57 GMT -6
Post by Valerius on Sept 7, 2019 11:27:57 GMT -6
Name: Valerius
Class: Novice
Age: 19
Born in: Ostia
Appearance: A naturally tall and well built young man, standing at 6’1 and a life of hard labor has forged his burly physique before he had so much as lifted a sword. At current his blonde hair has grown long and a bit unruly at the front. Though he retains youthful features to his face, a strong/broad jawline is already visible on him, and the fierce fire in his eyes masks what youthful innocence he may still possess.
While usually seen in his armor, Vale also wears a white scarf - the single memento he has of his father.
While usually seen in his armor, Vale also wears a white scarf - the single memento he has of his father.
Personality: Valerius, or “Vale”, was always strong-willed to the point of detrimental stubbornness - and on top of that he possessed a temper. These traits remain present in the young man, though he has learned to manage his temper at least a bit better. Vale uses that will and anger as fuel to keep moving forward in spite of all that he has lost. His focus is almost singular - which tends to leave him a bit isolated from other aspiring Legionnaires and, given their typical strategies for battle, dampens his chances.
Vale knows this, that his greatest obstacle is himself - and yet the struggle to master himself remains his greatest. Yet to simply let go of the fierce flame that ignites his independence, his stubbornness, his pride, and his anger would be to lose his determination, his strength, and his valor. Valerius wants to grow...but how? And into what?
When one is able to cut through the attitude Vale’s better actions begin to speak for themselves. The man is surprisingly selfless. He rarely turns down a request to aid someone in need, even if he is in one of his fouler moods. If he notices a comrade feeling depressed or frightened he will move over to try and lift their spirits as best they can. If someone faces a physical threat he is more than willing to step between them, inexperienced with a sword as he is. Sometimes these acts will seem forced, and sometimes they are, but the intent behind them is never bad or deceitful.
Misguided and filled with regret and guilt, Vale is forced to take action and make decisions for himself. Anyone who knew him and cared for him had perished when his home was obliterated - and the sheer hatred that burns as a result may very well never be extinguished. Driven for revenge against a nation and the abominations left in their wake, Valerius will fight on.
What else does he have to lose?
History: As far as Valerius was concerned, he was born to an Ostian builder named Braun and a professional harlot who wanted nothing to do with their accidental progeny. Too young to truly recall Ostia’s struggle against Hargus’ forces - barely a toddler when that had begun, the bulk of his childhood was spent with him by himself, looked after by his lone mother, or occasionally under the watchful eye of some helpful neighbors - a young couple who went by Karen and Tibero...and it was very much a team effort.
A high energy child, Vale would often run off on his own or get into scuffles, often getting in trouble that was in over his head, but either Karen, Tibero, or both would bail him out and discipline him for it. Vale wasn’t sure if he resented them or was secretly grateful as a child - understanding numbers, words, and how things worked came easy enough for the boy. Understanding his feelings, what they meant and why he felt them, was not his strongest skill.
Things continued like this for awhile until Vale eventually began to work in order to help support his mother. He would take on hard labor such as aiding builders, deliveries for merchant caravans, or even bar hands to earn coin for food. It helped him build a strong physique and taught him how to focus on singular tasks quite well...which served to aid him in his numerous boyhood scuffles with rival boys, much to Karen and Tibero’s chagrin, let alone his own father’s.
Valerius began to smarten up after his father injured himself at work, and the boy even volunteered to take on his father’s work while he rested. Of course he wasn’t old or strong enough for that, but Vale did what he could and learned to ignore the taunts from his old scrapping rivals. At least for a time.
It was...an uneventful life, and Vale did begin to feel that dullness. The few friends he did have spoke of wilder futures - traveling Lycia, visiting the nations that were far from Ostia such as Ilia and Bern. One talked of becoming a sellsword or even a contender in the arena! Valeriususually snarked at their dreams but in truth he envied them. For all his will and energy to do something, he didn’t actually have a specific thing he wanted to do. Nothing concrete to put his strength and focus onto save for helping his father.
That soon began to frustrate him. When he grew into a man what would he do? What would he become? Was simple work his entire future? He wished something would happen, to give him a sign at least.
Questions he pondered on, and even considered bringing it up to his father. But he knew he was his father’s whole world. Could Vale actually leave the man, injured in such a way that he could easily wind up even worse if he kept working as he did? Could he leave Karen and Tibero, having finally realized how grateful he was for all they had done for him as a child?
Just as those realizations hit him - the world ended. The destruction of Ostia at the hands of Etruria came. Valerius’ was at work and was evacuated during the disaster. He couldn’t find his father, no matter how he looked or screamed or searched. His vision was blocked out by other people - his voice simply one among hundreds.
Where were Karen and Tibero? Where were his friends? Even his damned rivals?
Where was his father?
Valerius demanded these questions, desperate and frightened as a tall, dark haired woman practically dragged him out of the city. She was forceful, yet managed to be sympathetic to Valerius’’ concerns and his plight. However she did not stay with the boy she had rescued - instead she rushed back into that hell.
He never saw her again, either.
Never got to thank her. Or Karen. Or Tibero.
Or his father.
They were all gone - obliterated and buried beneath the ruins of their once great march.
Valerius was carted to Thria with a small number of other refugees, and eventually stayed in Eleusis. He worked odd jobs around the leveled city, using it as a distraction from what had happened. His soul burned with a pure hatred for Etruria - the nation that took his entire world from him. Yet what could he do? Before he could ever hope of somehow striking back against the worshippers of their “peaceful, all-loving goddess”...there were hordes of horrific monstrosities that were left in the wake of Ostia.
His dead loved ones wouldn’t even get to have peace in their graves - the site of their deaths desecrated by filthy abominations even after Etruria’s assault.
It was that realization that pushed Valerious over the edge. He decided he would pick up a sword and lend his strength to the Legion of the Damned - an elite force that honored Ostia and protected Eleusis. With them he could avenge the fallen.
With them, he could reclaim what he had lost.
