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Manuel Delavega

A knight expelled from the Order of Santiago; now known as Cesare's "guard dog".

0 · 168 views · located in France, 1500 AD

a character in “Delavega Redux”, originally authored by The Ghost Writer, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Women that swoon over his looks describe Delavega as a tall, brooding man with sharp, handsome features. His own men, however, tell of a towering, fearsome monster of a man whose dark eyes would pierce your soul. The locks of Manuel's black hair run down to the base of his neck, and the boxed shadow on his jaw is kept trimmed and short. Most of the time, the man is adorned in his glistening, but worn armor, accented by gold and bronze trim. A long violet cape made entirely of silk drapes down from his shoulder guards to just above his ankles.

Personality

Manuel is clever and cold. His calculated actions make him a better strategist on the battlefield than most generals; and his ruthlessness as a maniacal soldier belittle the legends of his malicious butchering. Wit is, perhaps, the one thing he hates most when it comes to communicating with people he has allowed in his presence. Being facetious will only result in his sword cutting your throat in the blink of an eye.

History

Manuel Delavega was knighted under the Order of Santiago in 1483 and commanded one hundred Spanish men at arms for the age-old St. James brotherhood. But chivalry did become Delavega, as the knight slaughtered any who stood in his way without mercy or regret. His renegade actions and selfish demeanor cost the Order too much blood and his malice threatened to stain the reputation of an order that had existed since the crusades, driving back the Muslims from the Iberian Peninsula. Manuel was not worthy of being a knight of the Order of Santiago.

In 1491, he was stripped of his knighthood and expelled from the Order by the grand master. But he was not left to fend for himself, as by that time, he had found friends within the powerful and influential Borgia family. When Rodrigo Borgia ascended to the Throne of St. Peter and took on the name Alexander VI, his son Cesare chose Manuel as his "guard dog" of their estates in Spain. During the French-Italian war - started in 1494 between Charles VIII, the Holy Roman Empire, Spain, and an Italian alliance - Delavega was relocated to the French countryside and given charge of a small Spanish battalion of about 200 men. His instruction from Cesare was simple: distract the King's men enough to draw reinforcements in from the front lines of the Italian skirmishes.

Delavega continues to carry out Cesare's bidding to this day, keeping his alliance to the Vatican family a secret and claiming to be acting on his own accord.

So begins...

Manuel Delavega's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jason Aldaine Character Portrait: Achille Baldassare Character Portrait: Manuel Delavega
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There was a certain mystery about Jason that attracted Achille's attention. The dark-haired Italian teenager watched from a distance as his companion leaned back against a wooden post at the end of a stall in the town marketplace and stretched his arms high into the air, yawning like a wild animal. Before the boy suddenly lost his memory, Achille remembered seeing him around the Citadel inside the Shadow a number of times. He even recalled them attending the same class while training with the Spirit element at one time. The young scholar found no other words to explain it, but he had a great admiration for Jason Aldaine. Time and again in the past, he wanted to approach him to start a conversation; about what, however, he didn't know. He wanted to befriend him, but he was clueless as to how. None of this is to say that Achille wasn't popular around the Citadel, as he was actually a very talented young Sagen that showed great potential as one of the Order's brightest thinkers. But it seemed as though he was noticed by everyone but Jason.

When the Elders were looking for a Sagen to mentor Jason in relearning what he had forgotten, Achille was the first to step up and say, "I'll go with him!" There was debate, of course, among the Council, about letting a sixteen year old student being a mentor, but when no one else demonstrated themselves to be more eager or willing than he, the Elders approved. This was now his chance to make a friend out of Jason; an opportunity to start over and find the words he had wanted to say before.

"Here you are, monsieur," a woman said from the other side of a the stall counter that Achille had been leaning against. He turned his head to see the stall owner handing him a light gray scarf that went well with his purple and gray Sagen coat.

"Merci, madame," he replied, gently taking the cloth and wrapping it around his neck, leaving it loose around the coat's stiff collar. He handed the woman the requested amount of francs, thanked her a final time, and then turned off to walk toward Jason.

"What do you think?" he asked as he approached the boy, who was now staring off towards the monastery on the far side of town.

Jason turned his eyes up to glance at the scarf and with a childish smile replied, "It's cute."

Achille felt himself blush. "Cute?!”

The young Aldaine laughed and said, “Yeah. It suits you.”

Achille brushed the awkward comment aside and looked off towards the monastery that his friend had been eyeing. “What do you think about that place?” he asked suddenly. “I noticed you were staring at it for a while.”

Jason shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno; but I’m getting a... sense of familiarity. It’s hard to explain.”

Now that Achille’s attention was focused on the same thing, he could feel it, too. But what Jason didn’t understand was what he was feeling was actually the nearby energy of another Sagen. Two, in fact. Both emanating energies seemed to be coming from monastery. This keen perception is common among Sagens that are well trained in Spirit. At first, Spirit Sagens are able to sense the presence of elementals, and then later on, when they have mastered it, are able to use short-ranged telepathy, transferring their thoughts and voice into the mind of another. Two or more nearby Sagens that have mastered Spirit are fully capable of having an entire conversation through telepathy.

The very fact that Jason is able to pick up the presence of the nearby Sagens is a sign of relief to Achille; telling him that the boy, indeed, used to have a firm grasp of Spirit. It will be much easier now for Achille to mentor Jason back into a full comprehension of the element.

“Let’s go check it out,” Achille said as he lead the way toward the church.




Heavy beats from the hooves of a horse thumped through the tall grass behind the dark-eyed man adorned in glistening iron armor. A cape of violet silk draped downward from his shoulder guards, flowing in the light breeze that whispered over the towering hill beyond a small village in the campagne.

“Mi señor,” a voice said behind the man, coming from the mount of the horse. “Orders, sir?”

Manuel Delavega, the Cesare Borgia’s “guard dog” stood with one heavy plated foot perched on the top of a boulder in the hillside, with a hand on the hilt of his longsword. Tucked in the other arm was his helm of iron and gold. Sweat-laden hair dropped down to just above his silk cape and he reached up with the gloved hand that had been resting atop his sword to wipe his forehead dry. He had been sent to France to quite simply disrupt their peace of mind, forcing King Charles to reroute troops from the front lines in Italy in order to secure his own lands.

Delavega was a Spaniard, and he kept his relations with the Borgia family a secret so as to complicated things further between the French and the Papal States. Regardless, he was loyal to Cesare and the St. Peter’s Throne. Though he was not religious by any means, and knew fully well that, if what the Church preaches is true, he would burn in the fires of hell for an eternity for his sins.

“Let our forces rest,” he commanded. “I’ll allow these fools to enjoy one last Sunday of ignorance before we attack at dawn tomorrow.”

“Si, señor. I shall inform the men.”




“I’ve never really set foot in an actual church before,” Jason said as the two boys entered through the main doors of the monastery. The humble architecture of stone and wood bracings had a gloomy appeal to them, and the atmosphere seemed cold and quiet. Rays of morning sun broke through the slit windows in the stone walls high above the foyer’s floor and perfectly illuminated a font half full of clear water in the center of the room.

“Never? What about the sanctuary at the Citadel?” Achille asked.

Jason shook his head. “I wouldn’t remember, now would I? What’s that?” he pointed toward the vassen of water.

“That,” Achille said, guiding Jason over to the basin, “is holy water. It’s a Catholic tradition where those entering the a chapel or sanctuary dip their fingers in water blessed by a priest and make the sign of the cross. It known as sanctificatio, sanctification. It helps repel evil spirits as well as cleanse venial sin.”

Jason held a skeptical look. “It sounds silly, to me.”

Achille chuckled before gently grasping Jason’s hand. He didn’t know why, but he simply felt like touching him. He guiding Jason’s hand over to the basin and delicately braced the boy’s index and middle fingers, dipping them down to lightly touch the surface of the cold water.

“And now we just...,” Achille gently whispered as he made the sign of the cross in front of Jason while still holding onto the boy’s hand, letting go shortly after to conduct the rite for himself. “Come on,” he said afterward, “I think Mass is about to start.”