il-Dorn, Markaev [WIP]
Oct 26, 2010 18:53:58 GMT -5
Post by markaev on Oct 26, 2010 18:53:58 GMT -5
N A M E Per; Perka, sometimes.
C O N T A C T S MSN: rentavelak@hotmail.com
O T H E R . C H A R A C T E R S Naw.
R A N D O M . F A C T Lapsaing tea, milk and honey. A pancake. Breakfast of kings.
N A M E Markaev il-Dorn
N I C K N A M E S None. Markaev considers his own name so fetching that he doesn't need another.
A G E 27
B I R T H D A T E June 13th
G E N D E R Male
S E X U A L I T Y Heterosexual
O C C U P A T I O N Duelist. Markaev fights for them as are too wealthy and important to participate in their own battles.
M A G I C ? Does an impeccable dress sense count?
H E I G H T 6'1
W E I G H T 169lbs
B U I L D Tall, lean.
E Y E S Narrow, moss-green.
H A I R Long and dark; largely straight.
I D E N T I F I E R S A long, knife-point scar along the back of his right arm. A poorly done, faded tattoo of a bull on his left shoulder.
A P P E A R A N C E Markaev is a man of ignoble birth who has nonetheless been curiously blessed with all the hallmarks that one would normally associate with good breeding. There is a distinctly patrician cast to his features - an angular sharpness of lines and a pair of high, pronounced cheekbones give him a handsome enough face, and deeply set, moss-green eyes peer out from underneath coal-black eyebrows. All of this is crowned by a mane of dark hair, usually kept swept back behind his ears, tied with a leather strap only when the rigors of swordplay demand it.
He's a tall man, but at a glance Markaev looks more like a harpist than a dockworker. His limbs are long, his fingers thin and his shoulders broader than his hips by a slim margin. The only visible marks of a life spent by the blade are the callouses on his palms and fingers and a long, narrow scar along his right forearm.
He dresses as expensively as he can afford, and years spent amongst the nobles has given him a keen eye for the fashions of the wealthy. Mostly his garb consists of fine tunics and doublets, with some minor concessions to practicality made whenever he is either travelling or encountering a fiscal rough patch. As his income is rather unsteady, this is more often than you'd think.
L I K E S Fine wines, women, practicing his bladework (preferrably with attractive, impressionable onlookers), sailing.
D I S L I K E S Horseback riding, ale (only rapscallions partake of the brew o' the barley), cooking his own food, early mornings.
F E A R S Anonymity. Loneliness.
S T R E N G T H S Markaev possesses a quick head, which has been his greatest asset throughout his life. He speaks with a refined candor and a book-learned man's depth of vocabulary, quite ably faking an education he does not possess. He is also, obviously, quite sharp with a blade.
W E A K N E S S E S Markaev's smooth tongue invariably gets him into as much trouble as it gets him out of, if not considerably more. Coupled with a taste for the finer life which he can't always afford, the young duelist has frequently wound up in the wrong bed, drinking the wrong wine, with the wrong person's daughter.
Q U I R K S Here we come to the meat of Markaev's being. He is a person of strange whims and curiosities, given to sudden flights of fancy and possesses a tendency to wax philosophical at the very strangest of times. In addition, he also has a dear, dear love of tales.
G O A L S To be as wealthy, attractive and successful as he can manage, at the moment. Markaev possesses no long-term goals, and his motivations are most commonly fueled by the sight of a pretty girl, the desire for public adoration or the need for expensive food and drink.
P E R S O N A L I T Y At the very heart of him, Markaev is a hedonist and an explorer. Nothing thrills him quite so much as what is around the next corner, a facet of his mentality which has led him to both his greatest personal triumphs and most devastating mistakes. Though normally a creature of comfort, Markaev finds the rigors of travel to be worth the effort when rewarded with new sights and experiences, and has thus become rather worldly in his disposition.
Among others he is, to use the kindest words possible, a handful. He is loud in character if not especially loud-voiced, and he is both outspoken and temperamental in his demeanour. He is usually almost intolerably cheerful, and treats insults and foul humors thrown his way as just another opportunity to concoct a witty repartee. It takes much to put him off his high spirits, and as such he tends to be polarizing company - some adore him, some loathe him.
When Markaev does sour, though, he does so in a big way. Once he is genuinely wroth with someone he tends to remain so, and goes far out of his way to settle anything which he feels is a slight towards his character.
F A M I L Y Vellina Dunborough (Mother; age 49)
Steg il-Dorn (Father; deceased)
Melle il-Dorn (Sister; 24)
P L A C E . O F . B I R T H Liendwith, northern Niendra.
H I S T O R Y For such a flamboyant man, Markaev comes from surprisingly unremarkable origins. His father was an ore merchant in the city of Liendwith, and while not exactly wealthy they were certainly better off than the fisher families or dockworkers whose hovels line Liendwith's shoresides. This, as things do, would come to change.
Still, for his formative years Markev grew up amongst the relative safety and comfort that some tucked-away coin can provide. He didn't want for food or shelter, and aside from helping his bum-legged father carry the odd piece of merchandise or running market errands for his mother there was no need for him to exert himself to any greater degree.
As such, young Markaev spent much of his time loitering around the local inns and taverns, pestering minstrels and passing travelers for tales of the myriad places outside Liendwith. An intense curiosity about the world was already beginning to take hold of his being, and it was from this seed that his later actions would bloom.
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