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Adair Montecello

"Nothing will be forgotten, nothing will be forgiven."

0 · 881 views · located in Baekoth

a character in “Revolution of the Heretical”, as played by legacy14


"Men go to far greater lengths to avoid what they fear, than to obtain what they desire."


Holding his head high and leaning where he pleased, Adair is a Montecello through and through. From his Rough features to the grip on his blade, he is the near spitting image of his father and other Montecellos before his time. Tidied Brown hair hangs above the traditional hazel eyes of the men in his family, and is styled to one side and out of his face. The eyes below that used to hold a sharp and fiery light still shine, even if just barely compared to their past. The hair on his face follows suit: unshaven, but trimmed to a certain length. His attire much the same, enough to show he cares, but not nearly as pompous or extravagant as most wealthy traders. The weather-worn clothes cover a whip cord muscled frame built for adaptability and fitting for a swordsman of Montecello blood.

ImageHair: Brown
Facial Hair: Brown
Eyes: Hazel
Build: Lithe
Skin Tone: Slightly Tanned
Height/Weight: 5'11''/175 lbs
Voice: A Free-Thinking Heretic
Handed: Ambidextrous
Body Markings: Has a 'V' tattooed on the left side of his chest
Scar Tissue: Right upper rib cage, Left Shoulder blade, and Right Forearm.

Adair Samuel Montecello

Currently None


Visual Age
Mid to Late twenties

Factual Age


Sexual Orientation

Mage Ranking

Montecello's First Guard



ImageAdair has been categorized with many different tags in the past: flirtatious, arrogant, brilliant, nonchalant, amusing... Quite frankly the list drags on and on for a terribly boring stretch, but the one tag that seems to be thrown around more and more lately, would be 'insane'. Why else would someone openly defy a Queen and toss a pardon right back in her inquisitors' face without blinking an eye? But that story is later to come...

Years before this story, Adair of the house Montecello was a light-hearted and highly sought-out soul throughout Nydoecia. A direct contrast to the brooding man who can seldom be seen drowning his sorrows late in the evening. He is a much less social being than he once was, due in part to his current status in the eyes of the influenced. His outward appearance is less tidy as he once was as well, leading people to believe he has simply given up and completely abandoned his cares. This however is far from the truth, as people tend to find is the norm when applied to this particular fallen man.

Adair's previous nonchalant appearance is still moderately intact, although a more serious and calculating side is now ever present when he is found alone. A careful observer may notice slight changes in his eyes as he studies and mentally documents his surroundings, all while drifting in and out of images from his past. He is constantly, driven by his past as he knows the acts both by him, and against him, will not go unpunished.

But the shell of a man long gone still has the same tongue he was marveled, and hated for. Even though circumstances may be grim, there is always beauty and humor to be found around him, and Adair is not one to shrug off those two ideals. Around company, especially quick-witted minds as well as beauty, he can become quite the social butterfly, rivaling even his former self. Smiles can still be thrown out as easy as ever, and there seems to be no end to the abrasive comments and brash jokes that may pour from his mouth.

Despite everything said, he is still as quick-witted and calculated as ever. Possibly even more so due to the tempering he has been forced to go through over the past few years. Strategy and Swordplay are a close companion to his virtues of beauty and humor, and both have molded him into a respectable force for any that know the name of Montecello.

  • He cannot sing...well. Despite his ability to flourish words and sting sentence after sentence together without drawing breath, his ability to sing has completely evaded him. He has given up trying completely and prefers to hum to himself.
  • He is very particular about his hair. Even though he claims he doesn't care, it always seems to be in better order than the rest of him.
  • Has a tendency to be constantly chewing on something.
  • Has a much disapproved of habit of making faces behind people's backs.

ImageMoral Alignment
Neutral Good

"Honor Thy Past"

  • Failing during a crucial moment causing death to himself or another.
  • Being trapped, mostly in terms of returning to prison and being unable to see the beauty of the world outside of the bars.
  • Dying old and unable to fend for himself, anyone who has ever taken up the sword would know the feeling.

Punishing the wrongs that were done to his family and seeing the Messiah Queen buried and sent to the fiery depths of the afterlife alongside her ranks of Inquisitors.

To survive foremost, and then to dethrone the Messiah Queen and the ideals that grip Baekoth's people under their Tyrannical God's worship. He openly targets Inquisitors for his own reasons.

  • Humor and Quick Wit
  • Beauty and all the Wonders that accompany it
  • Music, especially those with the gift of voice
  • Honor and Dueling
  • Food, any and all
  • Competition

  • Inquisitors
  • Orcs, Ugly brutish bastards
  • Magic, to an extent
  • Cowards
  • Needless Bloodshed
  • Slavery, though he is more impartial than most

A natural-born duelist, he prides himself on the ability to find and exploit weakness in foes as well as a quick and calculated mind suited to his extraordinary reflexes. His easy manner and demeanor bring calm and humor to most any situation.

Brash and Brazen, he can rub people the wrong way at times as well as turn potential allies into careless spectators, or worse, enemies themselves. Although lithe and dexterous as well as keen in a fight, he isn't built like a wall and can be overpowered quite easily at times. Couple this with his Never back down attitude, and he can find himself in hot water fairly quick.

Is your character literate? In what languages?
Unlike most commoners, Adair is well versed in many languages in reguards to reading, writing and speech due to his life growing up in the trade profession. Although he is a bit out of practice, he can speak and read enough of lesser used languages to be considered passable in even some native's eyes.


[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]
Abilities, Skills, and Combat Ratings

|Poor| Not that his clothes are completely useless, but they are more suited for travel and for wear. After all, it would be bad for for a duelist such as Adair to deliberately take a hit and hope armor would stop it.

Hand-to-Hand Combat:
|Average| Oh he can throw a punch, and a kick if he needs to, but Adair has been trained to keep his blades close at hand at all times. Being disarmed is a considerable offense in his mind and fighting with only your fists makes for a truly desperate Duelist.

Melee Combat:
|Excellent| This is where Adair thrives. Quick reactions and near-perfect swordplay make him a devastating foe to face when his weapons are drawn. Extraordinary talent has mixed with countless hours of training, dueling sessions, and mild showboating to shape Adair into a truly adept Melee Fighter. Often times, Adair is able to defeat his opponents with stunning swiftness and precision. He is rumored to be the best when it comes to one move victories...

Ranged Combat:
|Average| Every boy has been introduced to archery at one point or another, and Adair is no different. While he is well out of practice with the bow, his dagger is weighted to throw and its edge is always as sharp as it needs to be.

Magic Combat:
|Very Poor| Even if Adair does have some latent magic inside him, he wouldn't even consider bothering with it.

Mounted Combat:
|Below Average| Adair can ride, and as most in his family, he is exceptional at it. He has incredible balance and kind instincts when treating and handling the animals, but refuses to subject the animal to becoming a target that Adair could easily whisk away with his own strength. Even so, every swordsman has some potential when on horseback, this one just prefers to jump off first...

Racial Abilities
|Excellent| Adair has an indomitable will of steel. When a thought is set in his mind, there is nothing anyone can do to dissuade him. Even torture seems to make him laugh if it's set in his mind to keep his secrets for himself. He is not someone to underestimate, even when no chips are left in front of him, there is probably one up his sleeve.

|Good| Quick-witted and a natural when it comes to applying this knowledge in real time, Adair can keep up with even the most astute of politicians, making anyone he picks as a mark easy prey. He is widely studied and has a terrific memory that is capable of retaining easily overlooked details.

Natural Talent
|Perfect| Left and Right hand doesn't mean much to Adair, the only thing that matters is which is closer to his objective. Not only can he use both sides of his body as well as the other, he has built on this to the point that he is almost unstoppable when using both his left and right extremities in synchronization. This can turn a single sequence of sword strokes into a terrifying flurry of blows, ever changing direction and pushing forward relentlessly.

|Good| Not being one to conform to the norm, Adair's knack for being a pain in the ass has actually translated to his everyday life. His ability to attempt, and succeed, at feats that have either never been tried or completely baffle individuals is in a league of its own. Whether it be using a tactic to throw off an opponent, or finding a solution to a difficult problem, Adair isn't the guy to think outside the box...he's the one who tears it to shreds.

|Excellent| Due to his years of being a flashy prick, Adair has developed a serious skill of athletic ability. He may not be the biggest or strongest swordsman on the block, but he can move like you've never dreamed and reach places others would blanch at. And laugh at the reactions...

Class Skills
Higher Learning:
|Above Average| Adair has been well versed in both reading and writing and had quite the suitable library throughout most of his life. His love of books doesn't come close to his love of swordsmanship, but his mind retains and is able to apply his teachings as well as any.

|Average| While not on a large scale such as what soldiers and Nobility are more used to, Adair has led men in the past and in more than a few skirmishes. He is more respected for his ability than most anything else, but his fairness and respect in turn for those he leads is a most sought after virtue.

|Above Average| The Montecello's commanded quite a bit of respect in many aspects, but have fallen quite far from grace due to more recent events. Even still, Adair knows the trade routes and connections needed across the lands. He can supply people with what they need easily and knows where to find the best services for the task at hand.

|Above Average| Despite being out of the game and absent from any court, Adair is no stranger to how the game is played and has more skill to back up his words than most. Even though he is mostly against it, he is not foreign to manipulating those that may deserve a little ill will to get what he needs.

|Excellent| Weapon training and application have been brought to close perfection in Adair. From settling disputes, protecting those in need, or simply saving his own hide, being a highly skilled duelist has brought more than fame to the Montecello's. Weaknesses are as easy to read as a children's book to Adair and his natural talent and training has brought him to the pinnacle of his family's legacy.

|Very Poor| Adair may have some latent magical power, but he has no idea or care as to how it works or its uses. And he is quite attached to the idea of never finding out.


  • Around his neck is a simple glittering band of silver hanging from a slender metallic chain. It resembles a sort of wedding band.
  • His long and slender sword was his father's dueling sword from a time when his family served the monarchy long ago.

Weapon Name: Queen's Guard
Weapon Type: Rapier
Material: Tempered Steel
Length: 105 cm
Weight: 1.2 kg
Weapon Description/Info: A delicately crafted slender-bladed sword with a blue tint to the metal, hinting at the deceptive strength of the thin weapon. Wielding perfect balance and razor sharpness, the long blade outreaches normal blades and is obviously meant for a very skilled hand. The sword is very old to the trained eye, but is still in excellent condition and gives truth to the rumor that the house Montecello once served as guard to a long forgotten Monarch. An ornate 'M' is etched near the hilt of the blade, signifying the house name the blade was crafted for.

Weapon Name: N/A
Weapon Type: Dagger
Material: Steel
Length: 30 cm
Weight: .51 kg
Weapon Description/Info: A simple-looking dagger with drooping quillons. It is nothing special to look at, but the weight is well-balanced, giving the user the option to throw. The tip is not weighted for such, but with enough skill, the point can still find its mark. The hilt is turned upward to catch a swinging blade and deflect it at the user's will.


Group Affiliation
Wanted Fugitive and Enemy to the Messiah Queen

Marital Status

  • Roderick Montecello - Father - Deceased: Killed during a duel over trade disputes.
  • Cassandra Montecello - Mother - Deceased: Put to death for conspiring against the crown and harboring a wanted fugitive.
  • Chloe Montecello - Sister - Deceased: Succumbed to illness as a small child.
  • Vanessa Moriarti - Fiancé - Deceased: Beaten to death for the crime of being a Heretic and sympathizing with a slave.

Social Rank

Former Trade merchant supply and escort; Currently on the run from the Messiah Queen and her followers

ImageThe Montecello's are a bloodline that run back into the distant past of Baekoth lands. Over this large span of years, these individuals have done much and served various positions as they have been needed, or have aspired to create. From simple farmer, traders, and tradesmen to more exhilarating professions such as soldiers, Knights, and even royals themselves at one point. But as the years rolled on, more and more youths born of Montecello blood were drawn to wars and positions that left their families decimated and all but extinct. It is rumored that the last Montecello to live solely by the sword had served a long-dead monarchy as a personal guard to the Queen herself. No one save the Montecello family itself has much claim to this story, but a few sons have shown the potential is evident in their blood.

Adair was born in the country of Dorelith, the first child to Roderick and Cassandra Montecello outside the city of Nydoecia. Their estate was comfortable with various luxuries and land fitting the wealthy trade entrepreneurs status. Roderick had been a lowly spice merchant that grew his business phenomenally in a short amount of time, forging new trade routes and safer trade due to the men he employed. He was fair and loving, but strict in his ideals, something he transferred to his children in kind. Adair Idolized his father growing up for his brilliant mind, and also for his swordsmanship. Many times had Adair watched his father settle disputes with his sword, allowing any that had claims choose a champion and challenge him. Dueling was a quicker and much better alternative to waiting for the officials of the city hash things out. And while they were relatively dangerous, most were not to the death and the decisions were mutually respected by both parties.

Adair's family was graced by a second child when Adair was five. Chloe was the light of their family and Adairs closest companion for years to come. A bright little budding that would grow into a quizzical little troublemaker with rosy cheeks and a heart-warming smile. Soon after her birth though, Adair's boring studies and day to day routine began to change when his father called him into their training yard and introduced him to a man named Malcolm. It was explained that Adair was the oldest and would be charged with the safety of his sister one day, to do that, he must be able to use a blade and carry on his family's legacy. Malcolm was one of the finest swordsman in the land, and would instruct Adair over and over in drills as well as the history of combat throughout the lands. These lessons would carry Adair through the majority of his life, and gave him a solid base to fall back on when tragedy struck their family.

Adair was twelve when his sister had fallen ill. Chloe was just turned seven when she was stricken with a terrible illness that racked her tiny body for days. Her fever ran wild and she thrashed where she lay, sores covered her arms and legs and she would vomit nearly anything that was ingested. Adair spent every waking moment at her side that his father would allow. His studies and lessons continued, but Malcolm would often cut them short and help Adair fetch water and fresh linens. The entire estate worked at all hours for the young little girl, physicians and mages passed in and out continuously but nothing seemed to help. The fever only worsened and eventually...Chloe lay still. Adair was the first to see her as others were still rushing about. He tried calling to her in the way he had days before, but she just lay there. One moment he had been calling to her as he gently stroked her hand, and the next he was on the floor, whisked aside by his father and the staff as they rushed around her bedside. He was unaware how, but he had found himself alone in the training yard crying. That was when Malcolm found him and offered consoling words. But Adair didn't want soothing words, he wanted his sister. He went wild and swung at Malcolm, over and over he tried, why he didn't know, but it had seemed to help. On a missed swing, his hand caught the corner of a pillar as Malcolm ducked behind it. A sickening crack rang in the yard and Adair shrieked. Malcolm slapped Adair hard, numbing the pain in his hand and calming the youth to a degree. "See what happens when you lose your head?" The swordsman said calmly to Adair.

In the weeks to come, Adair's mourning would be taken out in the training yard with Malcolm, using his left hand instead of the injured right arm. The progress was slow with the sling and molded poultice, but Malcom would smile at the similarity in skill between Adair's arms. The youth was a natural with both hands and a fast learner to boot. Soon after Chloe's death and Adair's incident, Adair's father stormed the training grounds and reprimanded both the swordsman and the youth for their disrespect. "Father..." Adair would begin, "Chloe lives on in all of us father, and my duty is to protect her. Now I must protect us all." Taken aback, his father left them to their training and watched on silently at the growth of his son.

Years would pass since Chloe's death and the lands began to change. The Messiah Queen moved to her throne in Citha and news of her miracles and new religion spread. The Montecello's embraced the change, even if only to keep their lifestyle intact and unaltered. Adair was now fourteen and had begun to frequent trips with his father's caravans to learn the routes and serve as an extra guard. Malcolm came along as well to ensure Adair's safety and continue his lessons. The youth was becoming well respected with a blade and was close to a match for his father as well. The use of both of his hands, both alone and together, was unnerving for others who matched up against him.

It was on one of these trips a few years later that Adair returned home after a month long journey to be greeted by his mother at the entrance to their estate. News had ripped through Nydoecia of Roderick's death and Adair was slammed with the news. A dispute over what a fair price was with one of his father's shadier merchants had escalated into a duel with Adair's father. Nothing out of the ordinary except for the fact that his father had dropped to the ground unconscious after a small cut. Furious, Adair stormed from the estate and rushed to Nydoecia, kicking in the merchant's door. A large and burly man, most people were familiar of the low tactics the man used to settle disputes, poison being a common tactic. Challenging the man outright, Adair laid his claims as loud as he could as he strode into the crowded streets. People began to gather and whispers flared up at the allegations Adair was throwing around. Claiming a man had cheated in a duel was a serious affair, and a challenge that couldn't be refused. The duel would be a long one and the merchant was showing signs of taking the lead, being well rested and not just returning from a month long trip. Adair refused to give ground a jumped back to avoid a swipe from the man's blade and caught his breath. As the man grinned and started insulting the youth, Adair switched hands. Muttering and gasps roared up as people thought the youth was finished, such a reckless move couldn't be a smart idea. Yet the duel immediately shifted in Adair's favor. His speed and intensity continued as well as the merchant's, but now Adair was circling the opposite way, poking and swiping with the motion while the man was forced to parry and repel from across his body, unable to launch a counter. The duel was over soon after as the merchant collapsed, completely exhausted. Turning to leave, his family's honor restored, a warning shout was called as the defeated merchant rushed Adair the shout saved Adair as he turned in time to parry the stroke with his dagger and thrust his sword up the gut of the fool of a man.

ImageAs Adair began to come of age to inherit their families legacy, his mother became increasingly aggressive at bringing women over to meet her famed son. Most of them half-wits with large trusts or deep connections. All of which Adair generously flirted with before allowing them to escort themselves out. This continued for some time before his mother introduced him to Vanessa Moriarti. At this stage, Adair had grown incredibly tired with the games and dismissed the girl without a chance. To his dismay, and pleasant surprise, she was as stubborn, if not more so, than he was himself. For months she persisted, until Adair's curiosity was piqued. What was wrong with her? Why was she so desperate for him? All questions that needed answering. What he found surprised him more than he had expected it to. She was from a wealthy family that had suitors lined up at the doors, all of which rejected. After he confronted her, the two headstrong youths burst into an argument of accusations and sarcastic flourishes. As the two of them screamed at each other, they suddenly stopped to actually look at each other. The two were as alike as if they had known each other forever.

They were happy, and much to his mother's delight, engaged to marry on Adair's twenty-fourth birthday. With the date quickly approaching, Adair and Vanessa skipped out of the planning as much as they could to let others do the work and just spend their time in each other's company. More than once the plotted to steal away and leave their families behind, but they both knew it wasn't something they would follow up on. Adair was heading home from a well known ring smith with the shining circle he knew his future wife would love when he spotted one of the Messiah Queen's Inquisitor's preaching in the streets. It was considered an offense to keep going without acknowledging the words so Adair mingled with the crowd as the man wailed. Some time passed when a cry split the air in the dusty streets. Rushing toward the sound it was obvious a scuffle had broken out. Shoving men aside to calm the riot down Adair stepped into the fray as it began to disperse. A man barely clothed and held by chains knelt over a woman with pale skin and streaming red hair. He was obviously a slave and crying as he pawed at the woman. Questioning the people around, he found that and Inquisitor was cut off by the slave as he ran his errands. His guards furiously beat the man until a woman interposed herself between them. Unwilling to step aside, the Inquisitor had her beaten in his place. The frail girl was hit with cudgels and fists until she stopped moving. Only then would the Inquisitor move on. A man recognized Adair and urged him away from the scene a moment too lat. He caught sight of his Fiancé, lying still on the ground. A small pool of blood forming under her dirty and torn blue dress.

ImageAdair went mad. The inquisitors had a keep they used in the town and before anyone could stop him, he was through the doors and challenging them in the only way he knew. Laughing at him, they nonchalantly dismissed him and had him thrown out. Adair lashed out and struck down the guards trying to apprehend him. He wasn't sure how many men he had injured, but a slash nearly took an Inquisitor's right arm from his body before Adair's world went dark. He woke in a cell and spent the next few weeks rotting while word was sent to Citha. As light flooded his cell and a man wearing red strode in, he knelt and thrust a paper out toward Adair. It was explained that his actions, as wrong as they were, were forgivable in the Queen's eyes. Adair knew it was because of his family's trade, he was offered a choice to work with them or be put to death. It was an obvious choice, who would deny another chance at freedom? But Adair kept seeing Vanessa on the ground, beaten by the very ones who served the woman who had scribbled the tiny signature on the pardon before him. Adair's eyes met the inquisitor's as his hand shot up and grasped the red man's throat. Adair's fingers closed around the frail windpipe and squeezed as the man fell. Vanessa'a face flashed before his eyes as his griped tightened more and more. When the man stopped convulsing, Adair turned to the open cell door and paused. Why would the door have been closed? There really was no option but to accept and walk free.

Guards stormed the streets and searched high and low but could not locate the escaped man. Adair had sealed his fate when he had killed the Inquisitor. There was no going back to his old life, but he was still drawn back to his family's estate. It was a mess, ravaged and ransacked. The first person he found was Malcolm, three spears jutting from his abdomen, dead men, both garbed in soldier's uniforms and the red clothes of Inquisitors littered the floor around him. More staff lay beyond him and fewer bodies not belonging to the estate. When he found his mother, she had fallen still from the swaying she had done when she was hanged. her body limp and dead as it hung from the rafters in her room. As the doors of the estate burst open once more, Inquisitors and soldiers alike flooded the building, vigorously searching for Adair. Room by room they got closer and closer until they finally burst through the door to his father's library over-looking the river below. It was there they found Adair, his father's sword in hand and more hate in his eyes than ever before. He committed their faces to memory in a silent vow to personally send each one to the afterlife as he jumped from the window to the waters below.

So begins...

Adair Montecello's Story