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Alistair Valein Courtsmen

'His sacrifice was meant for the good of the people. I will not let him pass in vain.'

0 · 313 views · located in Kingdom of Loeir

a character in “The King Sword”, as played by TechnoFoxHowell

Description

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ImageA L I S T A I R - C O U R T S M E N
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PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
He has a tall and slender frame, standing at about 5'11", appearing to be a bit younger than he actually is. He is the cold, stark opposite of his elder twin brother in appearance, though they share a common height, frame, and facial features. He dawns white in the presence of the noble court, but on his travels he prefers a less noticable beige color.

A G E
Twenty Five

G E N D E R
Male

PERSONALITY
Everything he does is done in a calm, soothing and tender manner, suitable to polite society and is rather refined and courteous. He is never violent, harsh, or rough towards others around him, even if they may deserve it. He is constantly thinking of other people and treats others in a decent manner and with respect. He is constantly disregarding his own advantages and welfare over those of others, never holding himself above others.He tends to exhibit a great deal of good judgment, being a generally reasonable person. He is not very ornate nor does he do anything very impractical. He can perceive and appreciate many things through his senses and his mind. He is a calm and quiet individual, not prone to succumbing to surprise or fear as he is self confident and aware of his limitations.

KINGDOM THEY HAIL FROM
Born and raised in Valein, he is a neutral party whom holds a desire to unify the kingdoms and make the world a more peaceful place.

H O B B I E S
Travel || He enjoys interacting with his people, often leaving home in secret to immerse himself in the populace.
Charity || Being noble of heart, he often has the desire to help those in need. His current greatest desire is to save Mateu.
Fencing || He is not one for fighting, though he has exceptional skills in all types of swordsmanship. He finds a peaceful beauty in the art of fencing.

S E X U A L I T Y
Homosexual

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Casting your life away for the greater good is foolish. What, pray tell, is the point of greater good if it cannot even save you?


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BIOGRAPHY
In the long line of the Courtsmen royal family, the birth of twin males have been a constant. However, the birth of the male twins with such dissimilar appearances have never been heard of. The albino twin, Alistair, had been ridiculed through out much of his youth. He never succumbed to the peoples bad will, his mother gently gently reminding him that it is not his place to be angered. His mother died from a terminal illness when he was a child, he kept her love and kindness in mind. He grew to become a gentle prince whom the people grew to respect and love. He does not get too close to people, having suffered humanities darker side, and feels little for them as a whole but still longs for their happiness for his mother's sake. He does not share his twin brother's or his father's apparent desire for dominance, having no desire to stand above others as someone superior but prefers to stand with others as equals. He learned the he shared the same terminal illness his mother had, though kept it a secret from his father and brother as to not worry them. He left home with little notice, nothing more than a note to state his purpose in retrieving the sword for peace rather than for the kingdom he was named after. His illness has not progressed very far as of yet, but get's noticeably worse after strenuous activity.
He grew up on the tragic stories of a cursed sword that was meant to be a monument of peace between the countries, his mother having told him the story since his youth. He is naive of the pressure his presence among the people is putting onto his father and the negative influence his lofty ideals was placing on the Kingdom. He values his family above all, but sees that it is not his place to remain useless behind his bed room door in a sick bed, rather chasing his ideals. He is by no means perfect and ideal, being hunted and troubled by many things. He is young, naive, and idealistic. Once thrown into a situation that forces him to choose a side, or once he fights a losing battle, his inner self doubt begins to leak.

F A M I L Y
Arcturus Rome Valein || Father || King of Valein
Cassian Valein Courtsmen || Brother || Heir and Prince of Valein

S T A T U S
The younger of the King of Valein's twin sons, which technically makes him a prince whom is second in line for the thrown.
He strays from home and becomes a wanderer of sorts, searching for the infamous sword and ways to help humanity.

W E A P O N
Rapier
A relatively long-bladed sword characterized by a complex hilt which is constructed to provide protection for the hand wielding it. While the blade might be broad enough to cut to some degree, but nowhere near that of the wider swords, the long thin blade lends itself to thrusting. The blade might be sharpened along its entire length or sharpened only from the center to the tip.
Fisticuffs
He is classically trained in bare handed fighting, surprising masterful despite his lanky frame. He is swift on his feet and tends to use his opponents enormous strength against themselves in various holds and throws.

DO THEY WANT THE SWORD? WHY DO THEY WANT IT
Yes, he is in search of the fable sword, though he has no desire to succumb to it's rage. His goal is to free Mateu by fulfilling what he died for and bringing peace between the kingdoms.

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There is no such thing as a 'necessary evil'. One is simply too weak to accomplish his goals if he finds need to resort to such things.


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So begins...

Alistair Valein Courtsmen's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mateu Corren Character Portrait: Artemis Eudora Character Portrait: Serena Rose Everild Character Portrait: Marthe Artemis Finnley Character Portrait: Alistair Valein Courtsmen Character Portrait: Varil Jenaqu Character Portrait: Percivale Silvester Character Portrait: Liatris Character Portrait: Bismarck Cain Character Portrait: Arcturus Rome Valein Character Portrait: Routa Belvadear Cain Character Portrait: Mikael Honen Character Portrait: Marie Deron Inautta Character Portrait: Sleipnir Artis Character Portrait: Cassian Valein Courtsmen
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The sun was rising, signaling the start of the day or perhaps the end of one depending on one’s perspective. The warm rays of sun gently blanketed the world and chased away the chill of the fall night. It was going to start snowing soon. The seasons seemed to be going by so fast as of late across Valein and Roune. The chirps of the birds began to flit across the sky and the regular hum drum of the day spread and soon, everyone had to leave behind their dreamland and face the day that would not be ignored. From a distance, the scene was peaceful and colored by the lives that passed and intertwined with one another.

It wasn’t peaceful though.

War is on the horizon. The sleepy towns waking from slumber were existing in a semblance of life but they were really just surviving. The kingdom of Valein was struggling to keep Roune at bay and Roune was pressing further and further into their borders. Soldiers were everywhere and the people were getting anxious. When would the war finally end? At this point some of the vassal didn’t care who won just as long as someone finally did. It really was a sorry state of affairs on both sides of the line.

It had been centuries since Roune last truly invaded Valein and the King’s Sword created. Most believed the sword to be a simple fairy tale but the rumors have begun circling again. Was the weapon real? If it was, where was it now? A sword that powerful could end the war if it was ever found. Without it, it looked like it was only a matter of time before Roune finally took over Valein. Looking for the sword was just a folly, probably only useful in the fact that it distracted both kingdoms.

And through it all, the King’s Sword waits for its turn to play into the events of the world. Alone, asleep, and silent, it waits. Long forgotten in the Despi Mountains near the border between Valein and the β€˜Mist Lands’, the land of the unknown and death. It was near equal distance between the kingdom of Roune and the mainland of Valein. Though the Despi Mountains were technically part of the Valein kingdom, few lived around the mountain for superstitious reasons. It was said that anyone who entered the mountains never found their way back. But it is just superstition. Who knows what really goes on in its depths.

It is in this desperate affair that our story begins; two kingdoms locked in a struggle for survival and a weapon with enough power to make it anybody’s game.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mateu Corren Character Portrait: Alistair Valein Courtsmen Character Portrait: Sleipnir Artis
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Second Prince of Valein
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"Hmmm...."
Arms outstretched, the young man stood before the peeking sun, basking his chilled bones in the morning light. The hood of his large, beige cloak was drawn away from his snow locked hair, his crimson orbs reflecting the beautiful light. Alistair much preferred he beauty of the night, but that didn't stop him from enjoying this cool Fall morning. He let his arms fall down his sides as he looked down at the path before him. It had been a month since he vanished from his home and much to his relief no one had seemed to come after him. Why would they? He was only the second son and they had a war to worry about, Alistair figured the men could not be spared or that no one decided to take chase. The thought gave him ease in breath, as he did not want anyone to fret over him.
Alistair's attention was drawn to a small village in the distance. He had traveled far in this past month, being in the third outskirt district. In the Valein populace, the outskirts of the lord's land and the kingdom's hold was the peasantry outskirts referred to as, well, outskirts. The third outskirt was the third closest to Roune, their opposing kingdom. He shook his head a bit, wishing that such division wouldn't occur. He stepped forth down the path, glancing behind him.
A man whom was barely a year younger yet nearly half a head taller could be seen tailing the prince, though this was of no cause of worry to him. The young man was a hired sword by the prince, despite his sorely lacking funds, and was simply acting as his body guard. He went by the name of Sleipner. He wore his typical brooding look, though Alistair saw it as nothing more than him being himself so Alistair was unbothered by it.
"I suggest we stop by this village, if it's all the same to you."
The prince was running a bit short on funds, though he has yet to tell the other. He does not fear disappointment nor desertion, Sleipner was free to leave whenever he wished. He simply felt it wasn't his place to offer complaint or excuses as to why he could not pay. He instead offered his services in villages such as helping rebuild or weeding one's garden. He plays it off as charitable acts, and as for how cheap his services are it practically is. He had enough for the other's next meal, though he'd be working the night over to get enough to pay for his services by two days time.
All the trouble he went through to keep his companion didn't bother him. It was not that he was overly fond of his company, though it was at the least fairly pleasant. It simply gave him some purpose and a small goal to maintain. Otherwise he'd become some wandering hermit in search of a sword that may or may not exist for the sake of a dying populace. Alistair gave a slight mental cringe as he turned forward, looking back down to the village.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Artemis Eudora Character Portrait: Serena Rose Everild Character Portrait: Marthe Artemis Finnley Character Portrait: Alistair Valein Courtsmen Character Portrait: Varil Jenaqu Character Portrait: Percivale Silvester Character Portrait: Liatris Character Portrait: Bismarck Cain Character Portrait: Arcturus Rome Valein Character Portrait: Sleipnir Character Portrait: Routa Belvadear Cain Character Portrait: Mikael Honen Character Portrait: Marie Deron Inautta Character Portrait: Sleipnir Artis Character Portrait: Cassian Valein Courtsmen Character Portrait: Rorik Kindleson Character Portrait: Lathan Keyull Character Portrait: Tessa Macerine Anson
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Routa Belvadear Cain
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Routa found himself looking his father up and down, seeking anything that would give away an injury. He couldn't quite see anything on the man but he did find it rather curious that his father had kept his visor up. He knew his father to take the visor off during counsel meetings such as this. He glanced at the other advisers in the room as they began to talk amongst themselves before he turned back to his father. Upon hearing why his father kept his visor on, Routa gave a light nod. What kind of scar did those knights leave on his father's face? Would he go blind? Was it really bad? Damn his worry and curiosity! It wasn't his place to question his father and king here. He would have to squash his worry for another time. And now he was going to disappoint the man to boot.

"Things on the font aren't as good as we hoped, unfortunately. As you ordered, I took my men towards the Eastern border. In the distance I saw one of the Valein knights and their forces massed around the bridge. We tried to hurry, but unfortunately they were able to destroy the bridge before we had the chance to cross. They have effectively defended the pass," Routa answered and grit his teeth. He clenched his fist and didn't look up at his father. He knew there was nothing he could have done but he had to ask himself, what if they had moved faster, stopped less? They might have reached the other side and defeated the army stationed there. But then again, without rest the men would have been too tired to fight. "I am sorry that I have failed you. If we had gotten across, we could have surrounded the army and had a major victory."

He needed to think of other things besides his failure and there was something else his father had mentioned in his message. The young prince shook his head and did look up at his father then. "I got your message about this fabled sword... if it is true that sword could affirm our victory over Valein and prove we have the divine right to lead. But if it isn't true, then we were on a wild goose chase. What if it is a Valein ploy to get us to separate our men?" he asked then. "Do you have an idea of its location and who you are going to send after it? Besides the sword, what plans have I missed at the counsel? I'll do whatever I can to make up for my failure at the Eastern bridge."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alistair Valein Courtsmen Character Portrait: Elron Salovy
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Elron Salovy

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Today was the start of a beautiful day. The morning was sunny and just a bit windy to kiss the sweat off one's back and made traveling a little more comfortable in Elron's opinion. They hadn't come across any dangers thus far so that was always a positive thing to look forward to. He and Alistair had already traveled so far from the castle and there was no sign of pursuit which was a good thing for the both of them. He was sure the king would have some words with him about why he hadn't brought the young prince back home and the king wouldn't like his answer. Sometimes, one had to let their children stray and grow, make their own decisions and just support them from the sidelines.

Elron knew he was dancing the line of being over protective by coming with him and not letting him go on his own, but Alistair was still the second son heir to the Valein throne and he was yet young to the world. There was no way he was going to let the boy just wander off by himself to find a mythological sword. He would let Alistair make their decisions and learn about the life on the road and offer support and a little advise here and there, but it was on Alistair's shoulders where they went and where they stopped and what they did. That was the only truly way to learn about something. Books may detail everything in the world but what was words on a page in the face of physical experience and knowledge? Books couldn't teach you how to truly hunt and feel the weight of weapons and judge distance with your own eyes or how to wager for goods.

Elron turned his evergreen eyes towards the direction Alistair pointed when he heard the boy call out to him.In the distance he could see the sleepy town just beginning its day. He didn't see fires or chaos so it seemed like heading into town may be a good idea. They needed to restock their supplies and coin purses if they were going to make it much farther in their quest for the demon sword. There was only so much that he could hunt for on the road. Perhaps they could make enough gold to purchase horses as well. Walking was fine and dandy but they were so much slower this way and he could ride more than he could walk. Besides, a horse could carry much more supplies than they could and it was best to stock up when they could.

"'Tis all the same ta me, Alistair. Dependin' on how high horse wares are, how much we have 'n how much we make, it may be a good investment ta get a horse. I've got some trinkets I can charm 'n sell or trade besides the work we do in town ta earn more coin. Hopefully tis a farming town. I do see lots a green. Farmers always need extra hands," he commented and walked up beside the younger man. He adjusted his own hood over his coco bean colored hair to get it out of his face. "If we continue towards the town we should get there by mid mornin'. What is the first thing you want ta do when we get there?" he asked him then.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alistair Valein Courtsmen Character Portrait: Elron Salovy
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Second Prince of Valein
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He listened to the wiser man at his side, looking at him with pale red eyes. As he spoke, Alistair found himself fiddling with the bracelet the nomad had given him. He was told that the artifact about his wrist would slow the terminal illness he carried within him. The wind ruffled his beige cloak as he looked back down at the village.

"Ah, yes, I hadn't thought about horses... Your eye is as good as ever my dear Elron. Surely I'd be a lost cause without your aide."

He gave the brunette a simple nod and a confident smile as he looked back to the town, stepping forward towards it.

"Very well, it won't be too much to try for a horse then, if that is what you deem a better option. I'm inclined to agree with a well traveled man. I suppose looking for work and a horse would be prudent, so... I leave the horse to you, I'll get to finding tasks."

Much like Elron had said, the pair arrived at the village a little past mid morning, children running down the path to play. Adults were busying themselves with house work or leaving to tend to their jobs. The elderly were sitting about, intaking tobacco whilst watching the pair pass down the road. Alistair of course earned a few odd stares, his albinism catching the wary eye of some of the villagers. This was nothing new however, and the young man simply smiled kindly and politely waved to those whom they passed.


(Sorry for the short post, slight writer's block. It'll be better next time.)

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alistair Valein Courtsmen Character Portrait: Varil Jenaqu Character Portrait: Liatris Character Portrait: Bismarck Cain Character Portrait: Routa Belvadear Cain Character Portrait: Tessa Macerine Anson Character Portrait: Elron Salovy
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Routa Belvadear Cain
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Routa offered a nod when his father indicated that he shouldn’t let this failure fall on his shoulders so heavily. What could he have done anyway to prevent the bridge from collapsing? If they had gotten there earlier, they might have gotten on the bridge but then the Valein faction would have finished destroying the bridge with them on it and they would have fallen to their deaths. It was stupid thinking that it was his fault. His shoulders began to droop a little with his relief and his exhaustion for traveling so far without much rest.

When his father mentioned that he wanted him to go on the expedition looking for this fabled sword, Routa’s eyes widened in disbelief. His father would send him off on a wild goose chase? It was one thing for him to hire others and send out some warriors looking for it, but to send him? Right after he said that the loss at the Eastern gate wasn’t his fault? It sure felt like this was some sort of punishment for his failure to take the passage. Why else wouldn’t his father want him on the front lines? Routa was a warrior and a leader of battle if nothing else! Routa took great pride in his ability to fight and lead his soldiers beside his father. This… this request was almost like a slap in the face for the young prince. Did his father care so little about his battle prose that he would send him so far away from the battle? And he was sending him off with mercenaries no less. He found it abashing that he was tossed aside this way. Didn’t he care about his pride and the image Routa was trying to obtain for when he had to lead and his father gone?

At his father’s last statement, Routa looked up at the man and swallowed hard, his hands fisting in his hurt pride. β€œFather, you just said that heirs are always eager to prove themselves. I am your heir and I want to prove myself to you and these men. How am I to keep in their good grace if I am sent so far away from the battle field? They’ll think me a coward that has turned tail to hide! A true leader should be beside his men in battle, not tucked away somewhere! Why should I be sent to some mountain to chase after this sword? Let me prove my worth to you, to our people, and to our men on the battle field,” he stated then. β€œI won’t fail you.”

Before Routa could fight for his case, they were interrupted by a variety of people. The tent was quickly beginning to feel crowded with so many bodies. He wasn’t sure he was liking this turn of events. At least Tessa had announced a small measure of good news. They had a little victory to lighten the air considering the other failures and setbacks they had. It was good to know that they could still defeat the Valein army bit by bit. Before he or his father could react to the good news, other two had entered the tent. Routa arched an eyebrow when his gaze settled on the newcomers. One of them looked rather scrawny and gentile almost. The other looked more battle worn as a mercenary should at least. These were two of the men his father wanted to send after the sword? He almost wanted to scoff at them, especially at the fair haired and skinned man. He didn’t look like much of a fighter.

Routa waited patiently as his father spoke to their group before he cleared his throat and rested his hands on his hips, lightly caressing the short swords at his sides in excitement. β€œI do have doubts and concerns, father. For this company to truly do your will and obtain the sword or capture and kill the young Valein prince, a measure of skill is required. I would wish to test their sword arm to ensure they are worthy of the task. I would not wish for this quest to fail because our men weren’t suited. Should they prove themselves able fighters, I have no qualms about sending them. May I test them now?” he asked his father. β€œAnd what of the matter we discussed about this mission before they entered?” he questioned, indicating the conversation of whether or not his father wanted to send him after the sword or not. If his father insisted… he would have to go. Father or no he was still his king but he would wish to stay on the front if given a choice.

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Elron Salovy

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Elron followed his charge as the prince headed towards the village. He was happy the young man had listened to his advice on the horse but he was a little sad that Alistair sent him off to do the task of bargaining for the horse alone. He wanted the man to learn how to bargain for the beasts since they were expensive. Ah well. Maybe next time. He adjusted the bag on his back and gave a nod. β€œAll righ’,” he answered Alistair.

Once they reached their destination, Elron smiled and inhaled deeply. He could smell the familiar scent of animals, dirt, sweat, and sewage, but he was used to those smells by now. The enticing scent of freshly baked bread and pastries were far more attention calling. And ooh in the distance he could smell the tantalizing hints of pig being cooked in the mud oven beneath the ground. He could almost see the fat melting now and flaking off on his tongue. His stomach growled in its desire to sample the delicacy but he had to keep his head in the game. Now was not the time for that. He had a task he needed to complete for his prince.

β€œWhen we’re done, let’s meet at the inn, je?” he said to confirm. When given the affirmative, Elron headed out deeper into the town searching for a horse breeder. There had to be one around here somewhere. He was sure they had good stocky breeds to since farmers needed their strength to plow the fields. It wasn’t long until he did find a stable with a few horses tethered to their stalls. Elron smiled and walked over to the first horse; a handsome young thing with wide shoulders and strong legs. His coat was a light as the ocean sand.

β€œOi, traveler, you lookin’ for something like?” a man just as muscled as the horse called out from the little house connected to the tables. β€œI ain’t seen yous about β€˜ere before.”

Elron pulled away from the horse and gave a small bow to the humble farmer to excuse his behavior of coming so close to the horses. β€œHail, my good man. Indeed, I am a traveler. Just came ta town β€˜n lookin’ for some good horses. These be your magnificent creatures? I have coin if yer willin’ ta sell.”

The farmer rubbed his chin as he eyed the stranger and the horses. The burly man came closer before he leaned against one of the stalls and crossed his arms, a look of appraisal in his eyes. β€œHow many ya lookin’ ta buy?”

β€œOne or two. How much for a horse?” Elron asked. β€œI’d also be willin’ ta offer my arm ta aid you while I am in town.”

β€œThese beasts are me bread β€˜n butter on the farm. 1000 Jovels each.”

β€œThat’s awfully high for a horse. How β€˜bout 1200 Jovels for two horses β€˜n I work your farm with you?”

The farmer rubbed his chin debating before and he shook his head. β€œNot β€˜nough for what I’d be losin’, Stranger. Yer one of dem charmin’ gypsies, ain’t ya? You’s got them marks on yer face. 1400 Jovels, work the field with me till ya leave and I git two of yer charms.”

β€œThat’s all fine, but I won’t go over 1300 Jovels,” Elron finalized.

β€œFine. You can pick yer horses when you finish payin’ me. Do ya have the money now? How long does it take ya to do yer witchcraft?” The farmer asked then.

β€œCouple of days. I’ll give you the money and charms at the same time β€˜n I’ll start workin’ for you tomorrow, je?”

β€œSounds fair.” The farmer reached out then to shake Elron’s hand with a tight grip. β€œWhat’s ya name, Stranger?”

β€œElron. β€˜n yours?”

β€œBlake. Good doin’ business with ya. I expect ya here β€˜morrow mornin’ before the sun rises, ya hear? Yer not here ready to work, no deal.”

β€œWell β€˜n good then, Blake. Much appreciated. What kinda charms you want me ta weave?”

β€œOne to charm the damn foxes to keep β€˜way from them chickens β€˜n one ta scare them crows.”
β€œI’ll get on it,” he promised. β€œSee you on the β€˜morrow.” After a nod, Elron turned away from the farmer with a small smile and headed to the inn to tell his prince the good news. That had been a rather good deal for two mountain strong horses. In the cities those creatures ran up to 1500 jovels each depending on the breed.