For Oberon Castle
NOTE: There is a "reply" of his country below, you can put that wherever you want to or send it to an Admin or whatever.
Full Name and Title: Sir Markus Pelrison
Age: It’s hard to tell his age by looking at him, he looked somewhere between and somewhat all of the ages 20-50. But he’s really 26
Birthday: The equivalent of may 17th
Occupation: Knight and heir to the thrown of Elderon. He was sent to try and find allies.
Origin: Elderon (Description below for now)
Religion: Torens (Description below for now)
Hair: Shoulder-length, straight and black. It shows signs that he didn’t really take all that good care of it, nor washed it very often.
Eyes: Pale green, almost like the sea.
Nose: Slightly large but not too big.
Lips: Full, shows signs that he rarely smiles
Skin Color: Light brown from tan from working in the sun too long, almost as if he was stained all over.
Height: 6’4"
Weight: 174
Physical Attractiveness: Fairly handsome, but shows signs of eternal wariness which somehow makes it to the surface. But all in all, he’s fairly attractive.
Clothing: Armour, mostly, when not full plate than just chain. When he arrives at the capital, with a small political party, in full black plate, due to his rank at captain in Elderon’s army, with a white tunic over it, showing two silver swords crossing in front of a golden shield, Torens’ symbol. When he was to enter the building he would remove his helmet.
Mother: Was the king’s sister, Ellen before she died of a fever twenty-five years ago. She was known as the nicest lady in the palace, and she was, if you knew nothing else of her.
Father: Was a small noble until he married the king’s sister, now he was one of the king’s advisers, his name is Malkin.
Siblings: The youngest of five. All brothers died during the war. Adrolen(oldest), Pelore, Marle, Telesel(youngest)(then Markus)
History:
Short History: Markus grew up the youngest of three. When the king’s children died the throne would go to Pelore, the duchy would go to Marle(Adrolen and Telesel had died in the war), Markus would be knighted, seen as royalty, and maybe get a place at court, but that was all he expected, so it wasn’t any surprise that he made his life military, for that was what happened often to the youngest in a royal family.
His skills for strategy were seen when he was twenty-three, but he refused the position in the high counsel saying that he belonged in the field as captain. He could not refuse being knighted however.
So you could guess his reactions when the king ordered him to go to Elaria as an ambassador. Or to plea for help as he saw it.
Long History: Growing up being the only unimportant person in an important family was tough for Markus. It seemed as if everything he ever wanted his brothers got instead… Even a mother, who had died a year after he had been born.
But he loved his brothers, and they loved him. Except Pelore, who had despised Markus since their mother died. Malkin had given Markus a special care because he had to grow up without a mother, that had been what Pelore hated first about Markus. Pelore had been a snotty brat who had wanted everything and couldn’t get it because he was second born and his twin brother, Adrolen, being three and a half minutes older, got it all. He got the duchy at first, than he got the throne! Because Pelore could not take his anger out on Markus.
Telesel also got along with Markus, being the two youngest sons. They would, as young boys do, get into a lot of mischief. But as they grew older Markus slowly ceases such actions, Telesel did not. Caught sneaking a noble lady outside passed dark he was sent to the war, supposed not allowed to be fight because of his young age he did not agree and snuck into the forces leaving. Markus never heard from him since.
Even though he did not get along with one of the twins he got along extremely well with the other. When he was a toddler he would always go to Adrolen for things(including a lap to sit on), and as he got older he still clung to Adrolen.
He would often plea for his brother’s help to get Telesel out of his trouble he would get into. It was only when the war came and Adrolen was second in line to the throne did he and Markus start to part. Then the war came and Adrolen and Telesel had died and grief slowly sunk into the young captain. He decided to help in any way he could, so he went to his commanding officer and told him a plan he had thought might work in one of the upcoming battles. It did.
He was suddenly noticed within the counsel to be the smartest of the Perlisons, Pelore did not like the news. But when Markus was offered a position within the high counsel he refused. He told them that his place was out there “with my men fighting the war. I have my duties, sir.” It was not challenged too much, but he was knighted, though he argued that he didn’t really deserve it.
The day afterward, Pelore being drunk kept yelling at Markus about how awful he was, and how much he hated him.
“You scum! You think just because you’ve got some brains you are more important than me!” The man’s slightly nasal voice making an appearance.
“Do not start this, brother, I do not wish to hurt you.” Markus had protested. But Pelore had not stopped. The man hided behind being an heir to not fight in the war and yelled at Markus who would rather die than live in cowardice, and Markus told him that. Pelore was unable to attend to his duties for several weeks afterward.
When the king found out about his heir’s behavior he picked Marle to be the heir. Pelore died three months after he was sent back to war. Markus never admitted this, but he was not sorry for it.
Marle, however was much like Markus and would not stay at the palace. He died a year afterwards, and they would not allow Markus to return to active fighting. Though he disagreed he could not argue, being the heir to the throne.
To enforce this order the king sent Markus to Elaria as an ambassador. Or to plea for help as Markus saw it, he was not pleased with his new order.
The journey there they wouldn’t stop in any of the major cities, not wanting to attract attention to the fact that they had the heir with them and headed straight for the palace.
He had gotten to take his closest men with him on his journey, but he did not say much, his men knew why.
“Sir, you know that it’s the right thing to do. If the heir’s keep dying we’ll lose all of them!”
“I should not be the heir. I should not be king. I should not be HERE!” He yelled. “I should be back home fighting those barbarians and defending our home! Not in this gods’ damned place!”
“Sir, we need military support.” Another of his men commented.
“And who is better to go retrieve it? Me or Delorn?” He said mentioning an extremely good diplomatic person, who would have been the best choice. “I will probably end up hurting one of those light-headed noblemen and we’ll end up with two armies at either side!”
They had said nothing else on the subject for the rest of the journey. For that was too much a possibility.
Education: Strategy, math, writing, extreme amount needed for being a captain. All in all he has had a very good education.
Natural Talents: He can visualize something that normal people can’t. For example, he will be called to help plan a battle because he can visualize what will most likely happen, and 65% of the time it does. He is good and visualizing a long distance, almost like a map.
Also, he has photographic memory, but back then they didn’t know what that was.
Hobbies: Though most consider it a job, or workout of some sort, he considers his practicing with his sword(swordplay) to be a hobby.
Flaw(s): His biggest vice is gambling. He can gamble for hours, lucky for him he’s really good at it. He’s quick tempered, and tends to solve most of his problems very… Bluntly.
Personality: Usually a quiet, easy-going man, he has a slight anger problem. He has severely wounded several men, and killed one, though he never found out the man had died, because of it. But as he grew in age and experience he was able to control his anger, he doesn’t hurt people… As much anymore, but instead he just walks away. A couple times he was accuse of cowardice, but he proved them wrong very bluntly.
As a result of training himself, he is a very calm man, barely ever raises is voice, but if he gets quieter it means he’s angry, but controlling it.
He’s good with number and is a very helping man. He is in all the since, but romantic, a knight. He’s a gentleman and companion, but if you anger him he’s very good with a sword.
Introduction/Feel for the Character: They arrive at the town area of the capital. The man was slightly hunched over in dirty chain mail, and had a stubby chin. Wariness flowed out from him like water in a fall.
He leaned forward to ask a peasant the best place for he and his companions so rest, the middle-aged man pointed towards the main street.
The next morning, shaved clean and looking extremely better. He walked up to the palace, hoping the messanger had made it in time.
Riding into the courtyard he dismounted and handed his horse to the stable boy, his men followed suite.
Once again he wondered why he, of all people, had been chosen for this task, he was no ambassador! Plus he was the heir to the thrown. He mentally wince as the thought went through his mind. He hated that fact, but there was no way to get out of it, not with Bartholomew next in line. He was probably waiting impatiently for his uncle to die.
“Sir… Are you here to meet someone?” A young squire, perhaps, asked.
“Yes, I am Sir Markus Pelrison from Elderon to your south. I have come to speak to the highest ranking man I can.” He said without hesitation. The squire, trained to do as he was told and not to question, ran to find someone.
As Markus waited he thought of home and how it was faring, he should not have left, they needed him!
“We need you to do this!” His uncle had said as loud as he could have, just above a whisper. Markus had felt pity for the dying man, as he always had.
“But, Unc-Sire, I am needed here! My men need me here!” He had protested.
“No! You must go. I won’t die before you return.” He head closed his eyes to sleep.
“Sire! King Heno!” But the old man hadn’t answered. “UNCLE!” He had yelled.
“Do not yell at me, boy.” He had said, just above a whisper. “Your anger consumes you. Blinds you from your logic!” He had not open his eyes, and Markus had forced his anger down. “You must go, it must be you.”
“Yes, Uncle. I do not wish it, but I shall go.” He had turned and walked out before he could have change his mind.
Picture: I couldn\'t find one to suite him. If you know where I could find a good looking knight in black armour, please tell me about it!!!