Tiberius Maron
"A man that betrays his people does not deserve my respect."
"A man that betrays his people does not deserve my respect."
Appearance
He looks like what he is. A soldier. Even the armor he wears looks like the armor his fellow soldiers wore, except for one thing. He's dyed it black instead of the shining plate metal as was the standard. Hair is kept short for practical reasons, while his beard is stubble at the most. As he was raised and taught to look at the person who is speaking to him, you'll find cold grey eyes in his face, adding to his stern and serious expression. From many years of military training and battle, he is broad of chest and strong of arm, though not the size of some pit fighters and gladiators. He possesses speed despite his usual precise and determined movements that stem from hours and hours of marching in formation. The plate armor he wears makes him an imposing figure to look upon, though the metal is dyed black as he will not bear the colors of a traitor.
A handsome man if you would rather have someone that looks like what he is and does not have the smooth skin and uncalloused hands of a noble. Tiberius looks like he was born to the wear his armor, which is a good thing. You'll rarely see him in anything else. The only thing about him that might catch your eye is the cloak that hangs from his shoulders. A deep violet color that makes his whole attire look a little more polished and neat than it is.
Hair: Black and relatively short. Clean and looks presentable most of the time, brushed foward.
Facial Hair: Stubble and rarely gets very long. He does what he can to keep clean shaven.
Eyes: Blue/Grey. They're cold and hard, adding to his stern and serious expression. Few people like to look at them if they have something to hide.
Build: Muscular from years of physical training and battle. Broad chested and naturally strong, though he is built to wear his armor.
Skin Tone: Copper/tan from many hours under the sun.
Height: 190 cm.
Weight: 98 kilos
Voice: Deep. Raw. Though he was never more than a soldier, Tiberius has a voice made for shouting orders and make people follow them.
Handed: Sword in right hand, shield in left.
Scar Tissue: Many scars cover his body from training and battle. None severe though, as his armor has protected him. A thin white line runs from just below his nose, across his mouth and ends on his chin.
Name
Tiberius Maron
Nickname
Tiber
Race
Human
Visual Age
Late twenties
Factual Age
25
Gender
Male
Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual
Mage Ranking
Noram
Class
Commoner
Tiberius Maron
Nickname
Tiber
Race
Human
Visual Age
Late twenties
Factual Age
25
Gender
Male
Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual
Mage Ranking
Noram
Class
Commoner
Personality
Determined. That might be the first word to come to mind if you were to describe this man. Whatever order he is given or goal he has set, TIberius will see it done. He wasn't always like this, but years of fighting in an army has taught him that determination and an iron will gets you far. This is also why he is unafraid to take on a task even though it seems hopeless. With that said, he isn't one for rushing headlong into the midst of everything but will instead take time if he has it, to form a plan. Tiberius fights for what he believes is right - which is why he wishes to cast down the Messiah Queen and her "merciful" God. He cares deeply about honor. Respect is gained not given; meaning that people that have disrespected Tiberius get the same in return while people that talk to him with respect and manners, also get the same in return. He has a natural sense of respect for authorities of course, though not that Messiah Queen as he sees her and her servants as enemies. You cannot build a kingdom or an empire on treason, torture and fear.
"In this world there a few that fight and live with honor. I will."
TIberius has never really known love. There were women from time to time over the years, but his only true love was the Iron Legion. From long days of training, standing and walking patrols, battle and many other arduous tasks, he has grown accustomed to hard work. It helped build muscles and it helped build that determined mind. The man tires of politics and usually stays out of debates on the matter. Neither is he good at talking to nobles or other men and women of high birth. In his mind, there's only one right thing to do and that is to end the Messiah Queen's reign.
"If I could, I'd march an army on Citha myself."
And he would. He would march an army on that city and take the Queen from her bed and let the people judge her. His only fear is that they would disagree with him. How many people were the queen's followers and how many were against her? It was beyond him how anyone could follow that crazed woman and there had to be someone that would rise against her.
At first encounter you might think that he is but a machine. A soldier following orders without question. That is partially true. There's also empathy behind his cold greyish eyes. He'll help those in need if he can, but, he'll help them if he thinks they deserve it. If Tiberius comes across one of the Messiah Queen's servants on the road, dying, he would not help the man. He is quick to judge and is harsh at times. Surrender. That word simply does not exist in his vocabulary, neither is he afraid to die. Tiberius was born to fight and the battlefield feels more like home than anything else whether it's in the camp, the trenches or in battle formation.
Loyalty. Courage. Determination. Honor. Those are the four words that sum up this man. You'd think he would make a great bodyguard, right? And he would. But if you combine loyalty with the fact that Tiberius fights for what he believes is right, his loyalty would go out the window if he was ordered to kill an innocent child. A good man, willing to fight for someone good. He knows there's evil in the world and that is why people must show each other love and compassion to keep the darkness at bay. Those siding with the Messiah Queen would call him a heretic.
Quirks
- Goes nowhere without a weapon.
- Rarely smiles.
- Puts his left index finger over his lips when he's deep in thought.
Moral Alignment
Lawful Neutral
Virtue/Creed
"Honor. Courage. Strength."
Motivation
Order. To restore things to what they once were, though it's been a long time since the King and Queen were murdered.Tiberius wants to find the one the Messiah Queen's servants call the Slave Queen and other people who are willing to band together and rise up against the Messiah Queen.
Fears
- The unchecked and unchallenged rule of the Messiah Queen.
- That his seach for like-minded people will yield no result.
Goal
To find the heir to the throne. Now that he has heard rumors of the "Slave Queen", he would seek her out and help her in any way he can.
Likes
- Respect.
- Honor.
- The forests and the open fields.
- Wine and bread.
- Women. In dresses.
Dislikes
- Liars, dishonesty and cowardice.
- Slavery.
- The Usurper Queen and her servants.
- Ignorance.
Strengths
His unbreakable iron will and his ability to lay down good battle tactics. He can read and write quite well. His sense of honor.
Weaknesses
...His sense of honor. Insult his honor and you'll find him quick to anger. The fact that he will not surrender from a fight can be dangerous.
Talking politics. Send a man like Tiberius to a royal court and he would be like a bear in a trap.
ARMAMENT
Head
Helmet, with a black plume going from front to back. The metal is dyed black as well, but he only wears it when in battle.
Chest
His plate armor, metal dyed black as well. Mail underneath.
Back
Violet cloak.
Arm/Shoulder
Plate armor, dyed black. Mail underneath.
Waist
A broad red sash and over that his sturdy leather belt from which his sword hangs.
Legs
Plate leggings with mail underneath. Plate dyed black.
Feet
Plate boots. Dyed black.
COMBAT PROWESS
Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]
Hand-to-Hand Combat:
Above average. Sure he's strong and can land a punch, but Tiberius rarely fights with his hands.
Melee Combat:
Excellent. Whether it be with sword and shield or spear, he's deadly. You can never be perfect with a weapon. There will always be someone out there who's better than you. You might stumble in the midst of battle and your opponent can stick his sword in you. It doesn't matter, you'll be dead. This is what he was born for.
Ranged Combat:
Poor. Tiber has fired an arrow at a training dummy once. He's even fired a catapult a ballista and an onager, but ranged combat does not suit him. It might suit his opponent well as he would be no threat to them at all.
Magic Combat:
Very poor. Cowards use magic in battle. He has never felt a surge of magic in him and never will.
Mounted Combat:
Above average. Though he's had training and even shown some skill at fighting on horseback, he's an infantryman. Tiberius is best used with his sword and shield and spear and his feet planted on the ground.
Racial abilities
Iron will
Excellent. His determination to get a task done or to hold his ground in combat. He will not yield.
Natural Talent
Tactics.
Good. Tiber is a proven battle commander and is good at spotting the weakness in an enemy force and to take advantage of it.
Class Skills
Defense
Good. The armor and the shield he carries helps protect him from enemy blows.
Sword Mastery
Excellent. Countless hours of training with a sword has made him a deadly opponent.
Discipline.
Excellent. You have to have discipline to be in the army. Any army that doesn't will surely lose the battle.
Proper Education.
Above average.Tiberius can read and write well enough.
EQUIPMENT
Items
Weapon
Sword
Material: Tempered steel.
Length: 98 cm
Weight: 1.7 kilos
Weapon Description/Info:
A razor sharp and easy to use blade. Easy to use in the sense that it's light and curved in a way that makes it feel like an extension of your arm. The way it should. The steel it's made of has been hewn from ores deep below the earth and folded many times to make the blade strong.
Weapon: Spear
Weapon Type: Spear
Material: Fire hardened wood and tempered steel.
Length: 198 cm.
Weight: 2 kilos.
Weapon Description/Info:
A spear is a spear. It gives him a great reach if chooses to use it without his shield. Can also be used for hunting.
BACKGROUND
Group Affiliation
Rebels/The Free Army.
Marital Status
Unmarried.
Relatives
Father - Malvinus Maron - Deceased.
Mother - Qiara Maron - Deceased.
Social Rank
Commoner/Soldier
Occupation
Currently searching for the Free Army and his rightful Queen.
Bio/History
East of Citha with it's back against the mountains stands the keep of Lord Harrow, or as all the Harrows were mostly called, the Iron Lord. Several good reasons contribute to that name. One being that the castle from which the Iron Lords ruled, Castle Eisen, and the surrounding lands sits upon great iron deposits deep below the earth. In fact, this region of Dorelith supplies an astounding amount of all the iron in the country. The greatest smiths and craftsmen come from this area, though those who are truly great travel to the large cities to show their skill to the world. Hammerfall is the city the extends before Castle Eisen covering a vast area. This is where Tiberius Maron's story begins.
He was born to a blacksmith father and a mother who served as handmaiden for one of the noble ladies. As a child he was strong, a big boy for his age who enjoyed helping his father in his forge as much as he did playing with his friends. His father was a proud man, strict, harsh and strong though not without love. Tiberius learned that from an early age. His mother often complained that his father was too strict on the boy if he had done something wrong or misbehaved, but it taught the boy respect and discipline. Everyhing in his childhood was normal for one of his station and common life and it would seem that little Tiber Maron would grow up to follow in his father's footsteps.
At 12 he had already learned much from his father and looked to be a promising blacksmith. The first sword he made - that his father approved of - he got to keep. The young boy would practice with it every chance he got, his head filled with tales of knights and great battles and the dream of being a knight himself some day. There was little hope for that as he wasn't the son of a noble or a great lord. His dream of joining the Iron Legions would come true one day though.
"....the red ones, you know she likes those." His father said, patting his son on the back and sending him out the door. Today was Tiberius' mother's nameday and his father had requested that he go to the market and buy a buquet of flowers for her. Off he went with a small coin purse clutched in his hand. The amount of people on the streets increased as he got closer to the market square, and the crowd was especially dense today as the Lady Harrow and her daughter had graced the common folk with their presence. They were walking through the markets, conversing politely with merchants that sold jewelry, dresses and gowns, pelts etc.
Tiber pushed his way through the crowd. The boy was twelve years old at the time, but he had no trouble pushing people aside to make his way onward. He was ten yards away from the stall where he would buy the flowers for his mother when he heard shouting behind him. He turned in time to see people jumping away from the middle of the street to avoid being run over by the cart that was speeding down the street. There was no horse pulling it, which was the reason for this sudden danger. The next few seconds proved how quickly a mind can make decisions when pressed. The noble Lady's daughter was on her behind in the middle of the street, probably knocked over by someone else trying to escape the cart now coming towards her at an increasing speed.
Instead of standing there like everyone else, Tiberius rushed towards her as she got to her knees and pushed her out of the way. They tumbled to the ground, the wheel of the cart slamming into a stall where the merchant to which it belonged had been quick enough to get out. There was a long silence after that. The first to break it were the girls mother who kissed Tiber's cheeks and thanked him many times. Her daughter thanked him as well but seemed too much in shock to say much else. The crowd cheered and clapped their hands at his heroic deed, and the twelve year old felt his heart glow.
"Boy!" A voice called and the crowd parted again to reveal the Iron Lord himself. Tiberius' heart stopped for a moment, afraid of what would happen next. He needed not be though. The Iron Lord strode towards him with sure determined steps and stopped. "What's your name, boy?" Lord Harrow asked. Silence followed as Tiber's voice caught in his throat. "Your name." The imposing figure before him repeated.
"T-Tiberius Maron." He replied, trying to sound more certain of himself.
"You look like a blacksmith." The observation was quick but it wasn't hard to guess. The boy had dirt in his face and calloused hands.
Again his voice caught in his throat, and he cleared it. "I am. An apprentice, I mean. My father's apprentice." Silence followed as his Lord stood and watched him silently, unsmiling and with narrowed eyes.
"Blacksmith." He repeated, sighing. "You're a big strong lad." He observed, seemingly measuring the boy for something.
"Thank you, my lord." And again that eerie silence followed. No one in the crowd said anything either. The market was dead silent but for the wind. "Please, my lord I meant no harm. I only saw the Lady in danger and I-" Lord Harrow merely raised a hand to stop the boy talking. And Tiber held his tongue.
A smile had appeared on his face albeit a small, crooked one. "Do you have dreams, Tiberius Maron?"
The question took him off guard. He dared look up and meet the brown eyes that looked back at him. "Dreams, my lord?" He asked, though quickly answered as the impatient sigh from Lord Harrow was unnerving. "Well... I mean to become a blacksmith, my lord, but I... I dream of the honor of a place in the Iron Legions."
Silence again. Tiberius had moved his eyes down to his feet again and said nothing more. The smile still lingered on Lord Harrow's face as he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "A young boy showing such courage... It would be an honor to have you serve in the Iron Legions."
That was the day that his life had changed and the man Tiberius Maron would begin to form.
After that he had been informed to report to the barracks within a fortnight for duty and begin his training. His parents were proud and his father sent him off with a hug and a pat on the back, while his mother hugged him several times and kissed him. Tiberius had complained that he was a man grown and it wasn't proper for his mother to act this way. She had laughed and waved as he walked off, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
Training began immediately after he had reported for duty. He knew that he wouldn't see battle for a few years yet, but that didn't stop him from putting everything he had into becoming a good soldier. If Lord Harrow went to war and meant to field the Iron Legions, it wouldn't do to attend training half-heartedly. They were a terrifying force.
One year passed, then the next and then another. Quickly did he earn a reputation among his fellow soldiers, and quickly did he grow to be a man. Tiber was known among his brothers to be a good soldier, deadly with a sword and an honor to fight beside. He spread courage and inspired loyalty among the men though he was merely a soldier like them and not an officer. Needless to say, these were the best years of his life.
Then that crazed bitch of a queen came along, murdering the King and Queen, taking the throne and sent her servants out to preach of their new God. Tiberius was quickly fed up with their pious bleating. Those who were kings before were now lords, in name and title now. Lord Harrow. The Iron Lord. How that man turned coward no one knows. When the Messiah Queen had taken Citha, he did nothing. Everyone had expected him to call the legions and march but he hid behind his castle walls. He even allowed the servants of their new "queen" to enter the city and preach their God. Meanwhile, the Iron Lord grew soft, earning the name Lord Butter. Tiberius was a loyal soldier and a good solider. He had vowed to uphold the law and do justice. He heard the common people call his Lord by that name, and did nothing. The fire and glory in his heart had faded and knowing that he know served a cowardly man filled his mouth with a bitter taste.
Lord Harrow grew more and more paranoid and more and more frightened. First the word of the "Merciful God" could be heard in the streets. Then, as the years passed and they gained more of a foothold in the city, the Inquisitors came. Horrible people with souls as dark as the coal that sat where their hearts had been. Meanwhile, the lord hid in his castle and had sunk so deep into madness that the only person he spoke to was one of the High Inquisitors.
People were hanged in the streets, flayed, burned, dismembered, put on the breaking wheel and drowned for denying the faith that was now crammed down their throats. It was a crime to think differently now. A crime to believe in something else than Aule.
The citizens of Hammerfall hid in their houses, fearing when the Messiah Queen's servants would come for them. Even the Iron Legions were influenced. Fortunately, when the priests and the servants came to convert them, Tiberius' commander had the sense to march his own legion away from the city.
They had been stationed a days march from Hammerfall when they began to increase the distance, ignoring their orders. The men had absolute loyalty to their commander, hated the new God that that seemed to slip in everywhere. Their city had fallen to this deity and their people were constantly afraid, their lord a coward and they were filled with hate. 5,400 men marched. 5,400 men waited. 5,400 men knew that they were living on borrowed time.
Three days after they had marched away from the city, three Iron Legions descended upon them. Three legions. 16,200 of their own brothers under orders they meant to follow. Across the battlefield they could see their brothers under a new banner. One that displayed the mark of their new queen. They were to destroy their brothers. Kill every man and leave nothing behind.
"EASY BOYS!" Commander Cane's booming voice sounded through the air. "These were our brothers! These were our friends! These are men that would call themselves members of the Iron Legions!" Some muttered and some snorted in contempt. "These are men that have let our city fall and let their bitch of a Usurper Queen and her God infest everything and everyone!" 5,400 men laughed. "These men are here today to die." 5,400 men roared. "They claim to be men of Iron! Cold iron doesn't bend. It breaks. And I feel a nip in the air this morning!" 5,400 men charged.
Of them, one survived.
He woke eight days later. Broken, beat and scarred. Tiberius found himself in a dimly light cottage with pelts spread over the floors.
An old woman had found him on the battlefield among the many thousands that were dead. His entire legion has perished, taking half their enemies with them. Tiberius woke and talked with the old woman. She had managed to carry him off and bring him to her cottage, which sat on the edge of a small forest. She was the one to inform him of the battle and the deaths of all his fellow soldiers. Tiberius wept for hours.
Nothing seemed to matter after that. The life he'd dreamt of as a child he had been given and now it had been torn asunder. He could not return as he would surely be killed. The days were slowly being drained of color and eventually turned grey and dull. Months passed as he was getting better, mending from his wounds. When he was well enough, he donned his armor and took his sword and shield and spear and tried practicing with them. Months passed again as he got back in shape. Though dismal thoughts filled his head and his life felt empty, it seemed that every time he struck the training dummy he had made, it rekindled something inside him. More and more of Tiberius Maron was coming back.
"Where?" He asked, eyes demanding an answer to his question. The man before him looked like a slave. His clothes were scant more than rags and the scars on his wrists were obvious signs that he was a slave. His story was unbelievable as well, but Tiber was sure that he spoke the truth. He had come from Nydoecia with a tale too good to be true. The Princess. The iron man was suprised that no one else had told him about this. If it was common knowledge that the rightful heir to the throne was still alive and gathering an army, surely that would be the topic everyone would talk about. "Why have I not heard this before?"
"Use your brain, solider!" The former slave shot back, his breath stinking of wine. "Because no one can know except those who want to be free. What do you think will happen if the Messiah Queen finds out?"
Tiberius was silent, brooding. He was wondering if this could all be true. There was no way to be sure if this man was telling the truth, but he knew that he had to find out. If she was really still alive, she could lead them to victory. She could win back her throne and restore order. "My Queen..." The words escaped his lips as if his mouth told his heart that that was his purpose. To seek her out and pledge his allegiance and undying loyalty.
Much later, when the drunken ex-slave was making his way home from the inn they had stayed at, Tiberius followed. The man walked drunkenly to the bridge that would cross a small river flowing through the houses, and stopped and turned. He had heard the heavy foosteps behind him. Tiberius' heart was pounding in his chest as he strode toward the man.
The knife slid in between two ribs, straight into the heart. The light in the other man's eyes faded and he tried to speak.
Splash! His body hit the water and followed the current away. This would be the only dishonorable thing Tiber had done since he joined the Iron Legions. And it would be the last. It nagged him. Burned away at his heart for a long time, but if the slave had told him about the Rebel Queen, he would tell someone else.
"My Queen. I will see her to victory." And now his will was set. He had a goal, a task. Nothing would stop Tiberius from finding her.
He had left the old woman who had nursed him back to health after the Battle of Brothers as it would come to be called. He'd dyed his armor black, his cloak violet for fear of being mistaken for one of Lord Harrow's soldiers, gathered his things and travelled to the nearest town. There he had learned of her. Tiberius had also learned that there was no such thing as the Iron Legions anymore. They had been disbanded after the Battle of Brothers and replaced with an army of rabble and madmen who were devoted to the Messiah Queen and her God.
Tiberius Maron has a task now. An order. Something to do.