dorianlyons
Soldier of Fortune
Knight Hospitaler of the 2nd Crusade
Posts: 32
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Post by dorianlyons on Sept 22, 2009 8:12:52 GMT -5
Name: Dorian Lyons
Age: 27
Aliases: Commander of the Knights of Providence
Race: Human
Location: Jerusalem, The Holy Land
Origin: Transylvania during the end of 12th Century, Near the emergence of the Teutonic Knights of Germany forming to push back the Cumans.
History: (Please see Born from Snow and Mist)
Appearance: A scarred yet charismatic crusader. His attire has been wind whipped and heat faded with his time in the Holy land. But his weaponry and armor look as ornate as they every did.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Dorian Earned the name Commander for a reason, his leadership skills are impressive and he is able to work with nearly anything to accomplish a goal. What he excels in leadership and shieldwork he lacks in proper swordwork.
Weapons Style: The Preferred style of Commander Dorian Lyons is a oval Punch shield and light longsword. He has also used his "ageis" the strap shield as well as a few grand weapons of battle such as the Falchion, or greatsword.
Alignment: Neutral Good with hints of law
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dorianlyons
Soldier of Fortune
Knight Hospitaler of the 2nd Crusade
Posts: 32
|
Post by dorianlyons on Sept 22, 2009 8:15:31 GMT -5
Providence: Born of Snow and Mist
1191 A.D. The Transylvanian Burzenlands...
A young pale boy stands shirtless in the cold winter snow, he has a skinny body covered in bruises with a cut open eyebrow and lip. His brown eyes stare transfixed upon a behemoth infront of him of bones and hair. The biting frost is accompanied by the continual howl of a swift wind writhes around them upon the barren hills of snow. In the thick of winter this shirtless boy pants frozen in fear of this man as he collapses onto his knees staring into the greasy face of the man who called himself his the boys father. He stood over 6 feet tall and shoulders a broad as a horse. His black thick hair was long and greasy, just past his shoulder while the beard upon his face drifted between his chest and stomach. A glare of hate is in the man's eyes as his fur cloak whips in the breeze. He holds a hand axe above his head that has tasted a bit of the boy's blood already as he raises it again.
In a thick Germanic tongue the savage booms out to his son a single phrase "If you would live like them... then you'll die like them." The sickly looking boy shook from something no amount of frigid ice could as he clasped his hands together whispering a prayer before fear clenched his eyes shut. With a offended growl at his son's defiance he raises his ax to it's arc and roars out in anguish at his shameful son. In the silence after the roar what fills the silence other than the simpering whispers of prayer is suddenly the sound of horse hooves galloping toward them both. No sooner than the boy had heard the hooves he opens his eyes to see a longsword cleave through the cold air and rend into his father's neck while galloping away without a word. The sickening sound and scene before the boy becomes almost surreal as he looks to the horsemen galloping away only to call in the reigns of his mount at a good distance.
This strange killed his father... the only family he remembers. He stared to this man who wore chain mail armor as white as the snow around him, a hood drawn up but the cloak of a black-cross dagger drifted upon his shoulders as the two stared at one another without a word. Even his steed was a moddled grey with spots of white that seemed angelic to the boy as snowflakes began to cling to the pristine metal of the knight. The roll of fog escapes his lips as the shaded face speaks out. " Faith... young master can be rewarded. Who was that... and for that matter , what of yourself?"
The young boy tries desperately not to shake or cringe at the pain of icy needles plucking at his feet as he stands up shaking with tears in his eyes. "... He was my father..." the boy says out almost as though he were still alive. "...and you killed him..." He looks to the tore open lung already freezing the blood on the ground to the topsoil. The knight dismounts pulling back his hood to expose his Romanian features and golden brown hair. He approaches over. "Your father was a Cuman... does that mean you are as well boy?" Suddenly the lad's heart sank as he realized this was an enemy to his father's people. Abruptly he shouts "No! No I am not like father! I am Transylivanian! My mother was a Saxon just like you!" he says panicked as he starts to test his legs to see if they are ready to run from this man just like his father.
The voice simply replies " Why was he trying to kill you son?" he approaches up with a kind look on his face taking off his cloak in the chill offering it a few feet from himself with a smile. The boy suddenly cried realizing everything that happened as it caught up to him at last. Doubling over in sadness he says "I ... i listened to a man tell me of the Lord of Heaven. Father told me it was nonsense. He ordered me to never see that nice man again. When I disobeyed he wanted a pound of my flesh." hesitant at first instinct takes over and the young boy hustles over to the thick wool cloak wrapping himself in it trying to warm desperately.
The knight gave the boy a swing of water from his flask and rubbed his head like a father would fondly to a son. " I shall pray for forgiveness robbing you of your father child. When have you last ate?" the question was so sudden it distracted the boy for a moment as he noded "2 weeks sir..." he says emptily as he is starting to feel the thick cloak starting to warm him. The knight looks to the distance "Just show me your home then." without a moment of delay the boy speaks "I won't return there...where do you head to good sir?" The man smiles back to the boy and replies "Across the Carpathian Mountains to Apata after your winter settles down, why do you ask?"
The boy looks back to the crumpled body of his dead father and looks back to the hero " ... I have never seen Apata... do you have food?" he says a bit sporadically but to the man at arms it only merits a chuckle. "You'd like some food and travel would you?... fair enough-" throws his sword into the dirt with a smile. Clean it in the river not far from here and I will accept you a my 'quest'"
And so the boy did as he was told... his hands dunked the sword into freezing water... obsessively drying and cleaning the sword until his hard work pays off. returning with a glorious sword he present it to the knight with a smile. The knight only looks into the lustful look in the boy's eyes and raises a brow suddenly asking "Well, If I am to have a squire I am to know his name..."
The boy's face lit up as he only smiled and replied "I am Dorian... nice to meet you!"
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