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Sevatar Ibram

I commend my soul to any god that can find it.

0 · 481 views · located in Terradeth

a character in “Crows and Coins”, as played by Fabricator

Description

S E V A T A R || I B R A M

Image

"Anger. Fury. Rage. Ineffective and clumsy tools they may be but focus them, and direct them with a cold precision, and what you have is swift and unforgiving."




P H Y S I C A L I T Y


Appearance
Hair: Long scraggly hair which shifts from a dark to light brown with a few streaks of blonde.
Facial Hair: A short, roughly kept beard
Eyes: Bright sea blue
Build: He’s reasonably tall and heavy set with broad shoulders
Skin Tone: pale skinned but weathered from years spent at sea and hard at work
Height: 6’ 3”
Weight: 210lbs
Voice: He speaks in a low almost guttural voice at times though he rarely speaks more than needed he makes sure he’s heard when he does. He does sound a little more abrupt with those he distrusts and speaks in short sentences to put them off; with the overall aim of giving the impression that he’s a fool.
Handed: He’s primarily left handed but we’ll adept at using his right to the point where he often forgets which he is meant to use for various tasks
Body Markings: his torso is heavily branded from iron and leather both front and back with overlapping marks that seem to have been crossed out harshly and reapplied across many years. Some of these appear to have been rebranded again to form an overarching pattern rather than simply erasing what was marked beneath as other attempts were. Several appear to be wards against magic.
Scar Tissue: he bears several deep scars across his face which could best be described as inverted tree roots clawing upwards.

Name
Torian Sevatar Ibram

Nickname
Sev (informal), Ib (non-family friends) and Tor (Sister)

Title
Sevatar The Bloodletter – A title he has more or less carved for himself from many years in the arena as well as ending several disputes firmly and finally.

His Lord Torian Ibram, duke of Darin – He does his best to hide the title when dealing with those from the world behind his “respectable business”, to the point where they may well be separate personas.

Ethnicity
Darin

Nationality
Darin

Visual Age
Early 60s

Factual Age
57

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual



M E N T A L I T Y


Personality
In the years since he took to the streets of Korrigan he has become hardened to the darker aspects of his life but regardless of all the blood that has been spilled he still struggles with the duality of his lives when dealing with his family. He is perhaps best described as a man who dedicates his focus to one objective and rarely detours from it till he has completed the task; though the means to achieve such goals rarely allow for deviation and he will often seek out the most direct manner by which to complete them.

He comes across to many of the underbelly as a cold, methodical killer who makes his demands clear and deals with any who refuse them immediately. This has led to him being given a wide berth by many of the citizens unless otherwise directed by their kings. He is a rather dour character much of the time save when he’s at work which is when he tends to properly smile and can even be found singing. This only becomes disquieting when his work encompasses his livelihood as much as it does settling debts.

As much as he does his best to rein in this tendency he does have a rather arrogant nature when dealing with others, especially if it falls within his sphere of influence since he often drowns out others in favour of his own counsel.

He rarely shows affection for others save for the occasional comment which isn’t entirely scathing or dismissive but he has some he genuinely cares for and as such has prepared to enact revenge on those who would endanger them.


Moral Alignment
Lawful neutral, for the most part but does slide towards evil at times.

Motivation
In his youth he simply wished to wander and escape his father, since returning home his priorities changed and the city with them. As such these days he desires little more than safety and security for his family, as well as vengeance against any and all who would do them ill. A healthy income and respect are not something he would turn down and often accepts willingly however.

Fears
Losing his family – As much as he’s done everything for them he does worry about the inquisition or the other kings targeting them to get to him.
Enslavement or torture – Similarly he fears what could happen if they are taken from him or if he were to be taken instead.
Drowning, hanging or being buried alive. Generally any form of death involving suffering in fact, which is most of them.

Likes
Fighting – He may not get the chance as much as he used to but he still greatly enjoys the rush
Drinking – His tastes vary from thick ales to fine wines depending on his mood.
Killing – Usually he reserves his slaughter for the arena or those who’ve wronged him

Dislikes
Traitors – Not one to suffer fools he rarely allows them to live
Nobility – Being born one hasn’t warmed him to their ways and he often views them as a plague on the city. Though he cares little for the common folk either.
Arrogance – He can certainly display this himself but he greatly dislikes the quality in others since it is often little more than boastfulness.
Parties – Similar to his unfavourable view of the nobles he’s also rather sceptical of their soirees as he thinks them foolish
Assassins – He tends to distrust hired killers, believing it’s cleaner and easier to do it himself. Both because he finds it satisfying to end the lives of those who have wronged him and because said killers are just as a likely to try and stick a knife in his gut as they are their supposed target for the right price.

Strengths
Blacksmithing – A hobby which has now expanded into a small business of its own and is often where he can be found during the day.
Physical prowess – Overall he is an exceptional fighter and can outmatch most combatants on a level field, even if he has to force that balance

Weaknesses
Stubborn – He’ll rarely walks away from a fight, especially since he’ll often win. Usually.
Magical aptitude – Sadly as much as he’d hope otherwise he effectively has little to none.
Age – While he can hold his own against the best of them he is becoming sluggish as the years catch him up and tires faster than the young pups in the arena.
Subtlety – One thing he does lack is tact and forward planning mostly, and usually tries his best to avoid being drawn into situations requiring a less direct approach in order to avoid feeling out of his depth. He also suffers from an inability to pick up on others subtlety as well.

Literacy and Languages
He’s completely fluent in Darin and Serket but knows enough of almost all other languages to get by as well as barter due to his time on the docks and at sea. Though he can only read and write in the former two as opposed to being able to speak and understand the rest.



C O M B A T || P R O W E S S


Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Combativeness
Hand-to-Hand Combat: [Good] – He can use his hands to great effect and often overpowers his opponents so he can take away their weapons and use them himself. Though because he is rarely unarmed for long his skills without a weapon have waned over the years to the point where he isn’t as adept as he once was.
Melee Combat: [Excellent] He prefers to end things quickly and as bloodily as possible. His personal favourite is a single stroke of a hammer to a human skull.
Ranged Combat: [Average] – Capable of using ranged weapons he finds them unsavoury and would much rather get in close.
Magic Combat: [Non-existent] – He is sadly lacking when it comes to such matters
Mounted Combat: [Poor] – While he can fight from horseback he feels somewhat uneasy at the sudden movement which throws him off; preventing him from his perfect strike.

Skills
Blunt: [Good] As direct and unwavering as his trademark hammer. He rarely has to ask twice.
Craftsmanship: [Good] Overall he could be viewed as a master of his craft but he rarely produces things that would amaze since he’d prefer not to draw too much attention and instead gives people reliable and dependable weapons or tools.
Deception: [Excellent] While he may not be subtle he is good at keeping secrets and separating his distinct lives from many. This trait is partly responsible for his rise in power over the years. And many assume him to be slow thinking it to be the same as stupid, a mistake they only get to make once.

Spells/Powers
Unknown



E Q U I P M E N T


Ownership
Overall he does appear to be a reasonably well off noble who keeps to himself and simply wishes to work at the forge despite his station, or because he no longer desires to reside with the pampered hierarchy.
However over the years he has purchased much of the land that serves the docks in Northheld which has resulted in a rather steady income from their rent much to the annoyance of the cities banks which constantly seek to turf him out. His sway here has resulted in over two thirds of the waterfront either belonging directly to him and his underlings or being rented by him to others within the city. Partly due to its close proximity to both the waterfront and the main arenas he has also bought up much of the cattlemarkets resulting in ample space for the more discreet fighting for those who wish to bathe in the blood of their enemies, be they man or beast.
And while he has certainly bought an ample share of the legitimate gladiatorial stage in the city his focus is directed at a mix of both since ensuring constant entertainment has kept the streets flush with merry folk and their bulging purses.

Weapon
Weapon Name: Maul
Weapon Type: Warhammer
Material: Adamantine head with an Oak shaft
Length: 53 inches
Weight: 15lbs
Weapon Description/Info:

Weapon Name: Cleaver
Weapon Type: Large Bearded Axe
Material: Cold Iron blade engraved with silver with an Ash handle.
Length: 42 Inches
Weight: 11lbs 3oz
Weapon Description/Info:



B A C K G R O U N D


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Group Affiliation
The Five Kings of Northhold
Arena of Salt

Marital Status
"Widower"

Relatives
Nyota Ibram – Wife. Mostly remains hidden these days with many believing her dead.
Emilia Ibram – Sister, deceased.
Anastasia Ibram – Daughter, alive and currently the ruling duchess of the household.

Origin
Capital of Darin

Social Rank
King of Northhold, and once duke of Darin

Occupation
Blacksmith, Patron of the Arena.

Bio/History
Torian had fled his father’s house when he was little more than a teenager, barely able to fend for himself and ended up shackled to sea after trying his best to escape and perhaps putting himself in worse peril. After spending almost half a decade trying to hide from his memories he returned home as the guilt of abandoning his family won out. He found their home in shambles with much of the wealth exhausted by his lunatic of a father’s gambling and unsavoury habits. He confronted the man who had haunted his life and ended the torment as best he could after the horrors he witnessed beneath his old home.
After freeing his sister from her captivity Torian was unsure of how best to proceed given that he had murdered his father. So he used what little money remained to bribe the city guard into accepting that the act was done for the greater good since it removed a troublesome and unpredictable noble from society. Though of course he made sure to ensure that the murder of their mother was properly attributed to the monster he had slain.
While attention was otherwise diverted he was able to have much of family assets liquidated so that both he and his sister were able to slip away into the night, travelling as far from their home as they could easily manage. His name and title were tarnished despite his best efforts but not blackened, and he found himself able to purchase a small holding within the city of Korrigan. Life was not exactly easy for them, and what little money they had was not infinite. As such he ended up turning his efforts towards developing the land he had purchased into a reasonably sized blacksmiths from which he was able to garner a modicum of stability.
However despite his best efforts his sister did not adapt as well as he had hoped; at first it had been troublesome that she simply seemed disconnected from the world around her but this had slowly developed as if she was waking up again as she became more responsive. Sadly once she came back to reality she instead developed violent mood swings which jumped wildly from calm to madness without warning. Taking care of his sister had resulted in him having little time left outside of his work for much else, even once he had become stable enough to hire help with his sister; but even so he still managed to build up a few friendships with some of the other nobles. Most of them looked down on him for sinking to manual labour though several grew close to his sister during her calmer moments more so than developing ties towards him.
It was through these acquaintances that he met a woman named Nyota, who despite her influence within the court kept herself relatively hidden from the public view, similarly to how he had done while his sister seemed to blossom in the limelight. In was during these passing moments that Torian felt true joy at the world reflected in this woman’s eyes, so much so that they eventually married and had a child together. Their lives seemed to be on the mend till one fateful night when a roaming band of brigands decided to storm their way through the streets at the behest of one of the local gang leaders. The charge brought them through much of the city, leaving a bloody trail in their wake till the meagre forces of the city guard were able to drive them back; mostly due to the rather better paid personal guard of the nobles lending their aid.
However they had succeeded in cutting a swathe through several of the more prominent noble houses in the city, killing their heirs and leaving the ruling cast broken. In the ensuring chaos he had become separated from his wife and half their family, only being able to take his young daughter out of harm’s way. When the dust had finally settled he sought them out only to be told that they were nowhere to be found, and to prepare for the worst. Anguished and infuriated by the lack of assistance provided by neither the lord nor his minions due to their own craven nature. Instead he made sure that his daughter was safely protected and began to arm himself to track down his love in the dark streets of Northeld; taking with him a few of the lower citizenry who had also seen their loved ones taken rather than simply killed.
He spent several days hunting through the city in search of them, with little success save gutting the few they found guarding the bodies of captives who had served their use. As the dead grew in the finding so did those willing to aid him diminish. Word from the captives had been sent to the lord to request payment for the release of those who still lived but it was rebutted by the nobles out of petty revenge against the insurgency.
When he finally found the man who had orchestrated the assault he manged to recruit a few mad fools to help with an ill-advised attack on his holdout. His primary goal was successful as the others simply offered a distraction for him to find where his family was kept; however when he found them the sight of his sister and son’s mutilated bodies almost broke him as he began to see red. All thought of safety vanished as he turned from their room and set about anyone he could find.
He finally burst in to find the so called leader of these thugs standing over the badly injured form of his wife, surrounded by the bodies of both his and Torian’s men. The fight was over without much fuss as he simply smashed his hammer through the man’s blade, shattering both it and his skull

All told they found only a handful of victims still alive but it was better than he’d hoped when they started hunting them. The death of the leader and the bloodshed he’d sown in the city left a vacuum that the duke decided to step into to ensure his family would never become casualties again. Since then he’s taken to using his middle name in his dealings in the underbelly.

In the years since he took to the streets of Korrigan he has become hardened to the darker aspects of his life but regardless of all the blood that has been spilled he still tries his best to keep his daughter from it all. His wife has become distant, her mood twisting between warmth and cold towards all around her as she's begun to fear the shadows that stalk the streets.

So begins...

Sevatar Ibram's Story

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Character Portrait: Xerxes Gaspari Character Portrait: Sevatar Ibram
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[Sevatar Ibram] - [#DC143C] - [Song]
He sat on the quayside staring out to sea. It had been a rather long night, perhaps longer than usual. Perhaps not. The night was still in its element even though a faint tinge was showing in the distance; heralding that dawn would be upon them in the coming hours. Still the moon hung high above, reflected in the waters as the ships jostled against their moorings. No doubt the pirate would be aboard several, if the lights glittering aboard many were any indication. Mostly they kept to their own harbours within the city, rarely seeking to dock where they were not welcome but this had more to do with having to pay for the privilege of doing so than for any actual boundaries. He’d worked hard to gain a foothold here, old rights from his family had held out here when all else had failed and he took pride in them. He’d started anew here and built upon this foundation, even if his holdings here were now little more than a hobby.

His little collection had expanded leaving the docks mostly untouched as his gladiators trained and fought for blood as and when he wished while those who vanished in his name were devoured by the cities slaughter-pens. Yes, the docks were much more peaceful for him when he wasn’t at home in the forge, but even so the feel of warm blood was cathartic especially if the sack of meat had angered him. He had slaked his desires already tonight, and knew there would be others in the coming days since none were immune from influence of the kings so allies were few and traitors many.

It was funny really; they fought and bickered like siblings even if the faces changed the roles rarely did. They were each trying to stake a claim to a promising city while the lord ate her fill off their efforts but they were richly rewarded so they each fell in line. As bitter as he often got when the wine flowed, the blood clotted and the mind whispered to him; he knew he’d be ill advised to rock the boat. She was a crafty one for all her other faults and despite himself he still respected her. Perhaps that was his daughters doing since it such wasn’t his wife’s since she made it perfectly clear in varying degrees the depths of hatred between them.

As he took a mouthful from a wineskin his reverie was broken by the sound of voices which caused him to take note of what he could only assume to be recent additions to the city; refugees most likely especially given their rather dishevelled appearance though their clothing seemed rather rich for such vagabonds. It wasn’t just that which caught his attention however, their look was clearly that of a man… no a boy and his bodyguard. The swordsman could be nothing else going from his stance and glances around the half deserted streets as the night folk made their way on their errands. He’d heard whispers of a pair earlier that night, and given their current route they would perhaps be true since the Aviary lay in the streets beyond.
As the pair drew nearer to where he sat in the doorway of the run down tavern he couldn’t help but chuckle and call towards them, more fuelled by his dour mood as much as by the wine.

“If you’re seeking the Madame beware. She eats young pups like that one, all their fancies and baubles too.”

While an off handed comment it did cause a slight stiffening of the air as many of the nightfolk withdrew a little and the patrons of the tavern became increasingly interested in their drinks; ignoring the world around them. As much as the kings were talked about in hushed tones many were keen to avoid them at all costs yet alone speak of them loudly.

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Character Portrait: Xerxes Gaspari Character Portrait: Sevatar Ibram
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At the words directed in their direction, Xerxes' body stiffened, his hand surreptitiously reaching for his Blade's Bane as he took a step before his "squire". Xerxes' gaze fell upon the man and his surroundings. The men in the tavern were keeping their distance. Xerxes could practically smell the fear in the air.

"I can defend myself! She doesn't scare me!" Max shouted, eliciting a few laughs in the background at his clear misunderstanding the danger she posed. Quickly, Xerxes slapped the back of the boy's head out of reflex as much as frustration.

"And yet, you still need me to box you behind the ears. Quiet, the adults are talking," he stated with an easy smile. Max looked ashamed, but otherwise, he did not open his mouth. A perceptive observer might notice that the boy was not quite used to taking orders from the knight, though he was clearly at ease with him.

"My apologies for my squire's outburst. You know how they are at that age," he stated smoothly. Surreptitiously, he surveyed their background, masking that action with a step taken in the stranger's direction.

"And yet, Madame Huli Jing may be the only one with the answers I seek in this city. Trust me, I have searched elsewhere."

There was not one worldly mage within this city with a mastery over water except for her. None he could find anyway. It was a predicament that would only grow as time went on. Prince Maximin was bonded with the element of water. It was not something he could change or suppress and there was only so much he could teach the boy. He needed a master. One that would not see his gift spiral out of his control. Only Huli Jing might know of a master for the boy if the rumors of her own mastery over water were true.

"It is this or I find a source of gold where I might purchase what I need. And for that, I would need to be less discerning with who I lend my blade to or take my chances with the Arena. I am new to this land, but I know the rich would have their favorites whom they would rig in their favor if only to ensure their bets are won. Or the Darini could be more honorable than most men. The Madame, at least to my knowledge, will not demand that I harm the innocent. As for if she would have designs for the boy..."

A subtle warning entered his gaze.

"I will not let her harm him."

As quickly as it faded, his easy-going manner returned. He bowed with a flourish.

"I am called Xerxes, the Dancing the Flame."

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[Sevatar Ibram] - [#DC143C] - [Song]
He lent back in the chair and laughed heartedly as the boy all but charged towards him, waving his sword wildly in his direction.

“Spoiling for a fight, this ‘squire’ of yours.” he commented with a nod of his head, his lips twisting into more of a smirk than a smile in answer to the chastised scowl that the child was now sporting. The gesture was made someone gruesome as the flickering torchlight of the tavern illuminated his scars.

“She’s good for answers. Doesn’t like competition in that department, she don’t. But I don’t doubt you’ll be true to your word should she try to gobble him up.”

He slowly pulled himself up to a mostly standing position where he swayed slightly as he lifted the wineskin high above his head to allow for the last few drops to land on his outstretched tongue. Lowering the skin he tucked it onto his belt and stared between the two foreigners.

“You can call me Torian, and I may not be a dancing flame but I can make it follow my tune given a little patience, and the precise angle from which to strike.”

Turning from them he dropped a few coins onto the table with a soft thunk accompanied by the light splash as they hit a puddle of ale on the wood. He reached down and lifted a thick handled hammer which he used more as a walking stick as he slowly walked towards the pair with every intention of keeping pace with them while gesturing in the direction of the Aviary, even though it still lay several streets away.

“But if it’s coin you’re after then the arena would certainly welcome some new blood, can’t say where you’d best ply yourself as a sellsword. The kings or one of their lackeys would best help you. But if your blades in need of a sharpen or you grow weary of it then you’d best seek me at my forge further inland and I’ll see what we can do. Might make a fighter of your little firecracker while we’re at it.”

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Character Portrait: Xerxes Gaspari Character Portrait: Sevatar Ibram
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"Alas, the young often are... Oh my God and Goddess, that does make me feel old," Xerxes noted with a look of faint horror. He considered his next statement with a seriousness that clashed with his still playful expression. So this man was the on in charge of the fights? He had to have either the best or the worst luck in the land to run into him. He sighed softly, considering his options. He could find out where he could find a water worldly magician from the Crow and owe her something in return or he could fight in the arena and purchase the services of one once he had the gold he required, but could he trust this man to keep the fights fair? He seemed to be an honest sort....

"Do it, Ser Xerxes, it'd be amazing to be a gladiator and I might learn how to and then we can pay someone to teach me water magi-," Max said excitedly, only for Xerxes to smack the back of his head, this time with real anger behind the force of his blow. He grimaced at the boy so easily spilling their intentions.

"We don't know how many Jerum scum might be hiding in this, Max. Do you want to be hunted?"

"You don't hide your magic."

Xerxes smacked him again.

"I am not a child. You are. And a far greener child than many who live their lives in the gutter. And even if there are none, it is only a matter of time until they attack..."

He rubbed a hand on his forehead. He glanced at the man beside them. Great. This was not good.

"You see our predicament. The world is suddenly not so friendly towards magic users. Yet, the boy requires teaching and my magic is the opposite of his. So, tell me, can I purchase a magic teacher in this country? The Crow Queen seems to be the one who could connect me to one... At a price."

He was silent as they made their ways to the Aviary, Xerxes' playful expression morphed into a mournful one. He missed his country. Would it ever be free again?

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