Difference between revisions of "Caius Valardin"
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|Description=He is a tall man, lean with broad shoulders and a rangy build, a body made of heavy bone and ropy tendon rather than abundance of flesh. His hair is thick and black, shot through with silver, and at some time his nose had been broken. Deeply set hazel eyes are shadowed by silver shot brows that are often drawn together in a serious frown over the broken beak of a nose. A well groomed mustache fades, sometimes, into a goatee, more often than not just the ghost of stubble at the end of the day. His features are marked with a myriad collection of small scars, more are easily glimpsed on the battered knuckles of both hands, creases here and there of flat ropy scars that chafe and itch in damp weather, especially dense across his shoulders and left side. He is one of those individuals that don't age so much as weather. The gray streaking his close cropped black hair and the lines carved into his strong-jawed features marked where the passage of time had only been able to chip away at the man. | |Description=He is a tall man, lean with broad shoulders and a rangy build, a body made of heavy bone and ropy tendon rather than abundance of flesh. His hair is thick and black, shot through with silver, and at some time his nose had been broken. Deeply set hazel eyes are shadowed by silver shot brows that are often drawn together in a serious frown over the broken beak of a nose. A well groomed mustache fades, sometimes, into a goatee, more often than not just the ghost of stubble at the end of the day. His features are marked with a myriad collection of small scars, more are easily glimpsed on the battered knuckles of both hands, creases here and there of flat ropy scars that chafe and itch in damp weather, especially dense across his shoulders and left side. He is one of those individuals that don't age so much as weather. The gray streaking his close cropped black hair and the lines carved into his strong-jawed features marked where the passage of time had only been able to chip away at the man. | ||
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|Personality=Shrewd, intellectual, slow to anger, calculating, loyal & honorable. Ask anyone who really knows Caius and these are the top few words that will, grudgingly, be uttered. Grudging, because - of late - Caius has become more than 'somewhat of a recluse', in fact he's embraced this criticism with open arms. After losing his wife, the lady Brennan, many of the things that he had enjoyed no longer spark any interest. Some would say that his shrewed and intelluctual bent has been focused largely on the trade work and the small amount of diplomatic relations that can be managed by correspondence. Or that his temper, which was ferocious in his youth was tempered first by growing into his maturity, even more so upon meeting and eventual marriage to his late wife, but that since her loss he has been slower to anger. Or, perhaps, there is a measure of anger that he has never quite allowed to slip from his grasp, and that he is always angry but it takes a very keen eye to discern it. To that end, there is a fine edge of calculation to the manner in which he manages business, not everything is about profit alone. Loyalty, honor, these are two cornerstones of the man that he has always been, and they serve as a guide - still - to the man he has become. | |Personality=Shrewd, intellectual, slow to anger, calculating, loyal & honorable. Ask anyone who really knows Caius and these are the top few words that will, grudgingly, be uttered. Grudging, because - of late - Caius has become more than 'somewhat of a recluse', in fact he's embraced this criticism with open arms. After losing his wife, the lady Brennan, many of the things that he had enjoyed no longer spark any interest. Some would say that his shrewed and intelluctual bent has been focused largely on the trade work and the small amount of diplomatic relations that can be managed by correspondence. Or that his temper, which was ferocious in his youth was tempered first by growing into his maturity, even more so upon meeting and eventual marriage to his late wife, but that since her loss he has been slower to anger. Or, perhaps, there is a measure of anger that he has never quite allowed to slip from his grasp, and that he is always angry but it takes a very keen eye to discern it. To that end, there is a fine edge of calculation to the manner in which he manages business, not everything is about profit alone. Loyalty, honor, these are two cornerstones of the man that he has always been, and they serve as a guide - still - to the man he has become. | ||
|Background=As a prince of Valardin his youth was a series of pre-determined benchmarks. Fostered to an ally of the family at the appropriate age, squired when he'd proven himself worthy and skilled enough to not get himself killed or worse make an ass of himself and shame the knight to whom he was squiring. Knighted when he came of age with other squires of the same year and skill set. Caius, Cai to his friends, spent his twenties on one campaign or another, doing his share of fighting the good fight or fighting the relentless hours of boredom between doing more of the bashing and smashing. Taprooms and inns, bars and taverns, a nearly endless ultimately boring span of years until he'd matured enough to no longer have 'bash & smash' be his first instinct; matured enough to think first - then think deeper - before reaching for his sword. | |Background=As a prince of Valardin his youth was a series of pre-determined benchmarks. Fostered to an ally of the family at the appropriate age, squired when he'd proven himself worthy and skilled enough to not get himself killed or worse make an ass of himself and shame the knight to whom he was squiring. Knighted when he came of age with other squires of the same year and skill set. Caius, Cai to his friends, spent his twenties on one campaign or another, doing his share of fighting the good fight or fighting the relentless hours of boredom between doing more of the bashing and smashing. Taprooms and inns, bars and taverns, a nearly endless ultimately boring span of years until he'd matured enough to no longer have 'bash & smash' be his first instinct; matured enough to think first - then think deeper - before reaching for his sword. | ||
Revision as of 23:03, 26 October 2018
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| Caius Valardin | |
|---|---|
| Social Rank | 3 |
| Fealty | Valardin |
| House | Valardin |
| Gender | Male |
| Age | 41 |
| Religion | Pantheon |
| Vocation | Noble |
| Height | 6'4" |
| Hair Color | Black |
| Eye Color | Hazel |
| Skintone | Pale |
| Family | |
| Parents | Jeremy Valardin |
| Uncles/Aunts | Gloriessa Valardin, Victor Redtyde, Hope Valardin, Ector Valardin |
| Cousins | Radley Valardin, Dayne Valardin, Selennia Valardin, Alareon Valardin, Marrok Valardin, Bernh Valardin, Nathan Valardin, Charity Valardin, Vincenzo Valardin, Patrice Valardin, Lyllindyl Valardin, Temperance Valardin, Bravery Valardin |
| Journals | |
| Authored By / Featured In | |
| Active | |
Description
He is a tall man, lean with broad shoulders and a rangy build, a body made of heavy bone and ropy tendon rather than abundance of flesh. His hair is thick and black, shot through with silver, and at some time his nose had been broken. Deeply set hazel eyes are shadowed by silver shot brows that are often drawn together in a serious frown over the broken beak of a nose. A well groomed mustache fades, sometimes, into a goatee, more often than not just the ghost of stubble at the end of the day. His features are marked with a myriad collection of small scars, more are easily glimpsed on the battered knuckles of both hands, creases here and there of flat ropy scars that chafe and itch in damp weather, especially dense across his shoulders and left side. He is one of those individuals that don't age so much as weather. The gray streaking his close cropped black hair and the lines carved into his strong-jawed features marked where the passage of time had only been able to chip away at the man.
Personality
Shrewd, intellectual, slow to anger, calculating, loyal & honorable. Ask anyone who really knows Caius and these are the top few words that will, grudgingly, be uttered. Grudging, because - of late - Caius has become more than 'somewhat of a recluse', in fact he's embraced this criticism with open arms. After losing his wife, the lady Brennan, many of the things that he had enjoyed no longer spark any interest. Some would say that his shrewed and intelluctual bent has been focused largely on the trade work and the small amount of diplomatic relations that can be managed by correspondence. Or that his temper, which was ferocious in his youth was tempered first by growing into his maturity, even more so upon meeting and eventual marriage to his late wife, but that since her loss he has been slower to anger. Or, perhaps, there is a measure of anger that he has never quite allowed to slip from his grasp, and that he is always angry but it takes a very keen eye to discern it. To that end, there is a fine edge of calculation to the manner in which he manages business, not everything is about profit alone. Loyalty, honor, these are two cornerstones of the man that he has always been, and they serve as a guide - still - to the man he has become.
Background
As a prince of Valardin his youth was a series of pre-determined benchmarks. Fostered to an ally of the family at the appropriate age, squired when he'd proven himself worthy and skilled enough to not get himself killed or worse make an ass of himself and shame the knight to whom he was squiring. Knighted when he came of age with other squires of the same year and skill set. Caius, Cai to his friends, spent his twenties on one campaign or another, doing his share of fighting the good fight or fighting the relentless hours of boredom between doing more of the bashing and smashing. Taprooms and inns, bars and taverns, a nearly endless ultimately boring span of years until he'd matured enough to no longer have 'bash & smash' be his first instinct; matured enough to think first - then think deeper - before reaching for his sword.
He'd steadied in his middle twenties, become less of a wild eyed fighter and begun to explore the years of diplomatic training that had been long buried in his education, when he chanced upon a brawl in a tavern. Inspired by a tiny glimmer of curiosity, Cai stepped into the tavern, and met the business end of a maile-clad fist. Unintentionally. Broken nose and black eyed raccoon faced as a result, Cai would face endless weeks of laughter when his comrades and fellows learned that the knight who'd smashed his nose was the Lady Brennan. Never one to follow all of the guidelines set forth by good example, Cai was determined to win the heart of Lady Brennan, and two years of effort and persistance followed before they were betrothed properly then wed. One thing that Cai often would preface any statement about his wife were the words 'My Brenn, she does have a temper' often said with a certain smile that was both content and just a little bit smug at the same time. Not every marriage is built on a great romance, in fact, most marriages are built on common ground and the need to establish or cement networking and ties that bind. Cai and Brennan were a fly in the mix, genuinely fond of each other, genuinely well suited by all rights they were happy with each other. In the usual passing of time their first child was born, and five years later, a second. Only months after their second child was born Brennan was visiting family when the worst of all nightmares came to a head, culminating at the Tragedy of Sanctum. Brennan was just one of many who died that day, but Cai was never - could never - be the same after the loss of his wife.
He retreated from the world, taking only the household staff that would keep everything running smoothly. A nanny who was long enough in the tooth as to assist raising his children but never replace the wife, their mother, that his sons had lost.
At age 41, he has solidified his reclusive nature by focusing on trade negotiations, small ancillary diplomacy and the management of family estates and assets. His family gave him time to mourn, as he wasn't the only one who lost someone they loved. But five years is long enough and he's been dragged back into social life, court life, not quite kicking and screaming but absolutely with grudging reluctance. But family pressure being what it is, he's at least going to make an appearance at some court events. Meet face to face with some of the merchants he's been working with & trading with for years.
