Artemesia Family/Ramuh 02

Ramuh Artemesia

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Family	Family
Class
Age	years
Honour
Prestige
Rank
Region	[[]]
Duchy	[[]]
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Allegiance: Bara'Khur

Class: Warrior

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Appearance: 5'10", olive-skinned, short brown hair. Gray eyes, not particularly muscular but more lean muscle. Wears sand-laden desert garb.

Personality: Self-interested. Believes in equivalent exchange, where he only gives so long as he gets something equal in return. Average courage. Will not break down crying upon seeing a scary daimon/hulking monster/rotting undead, but will prefer flight or concealment rather than confrontation. Honorless. Will break standard nobility's code of conduct to preserve his life at all costs. Will try not to unnecessarily break codes to preserve personal interests, but not averse to it if that is the only alternative. Anti-hero: Makes fun of dead enemies, gives snide remarks to living enemies unless doing such a thing is obviously stupid, will work for money, will sacrifice innocents for self-preservation or for a desired goal.

Equipment: Rope, torch, bag, dagger, "lockpick" (or whatever equivalent), map

Skills: Advanced Swordfighting Mastery, Basic Jousting Proficiency, Basic Trading Proficiency, Advanced Leadership Mastery, Basic Bureaucracy Proficiency.

Bright Days

Happier days. The afternoon sun shone brightly against the clear blue sky, illuminating the soft clouds fluttering leisurely by. The two boys grounded to earth stretched their arms towards the unending horizon.

“It will only be a week now, Sandy! Then I can join the army and fight for honor and glory! You’ll see, one day I’ll become a great hero, welcomed to the halls of foreign kings, desired by exotic women, sung in tales of valor by bards.” The younger Ramuh circled the sun with a finger, pointing at the blinding light. “I’ll be a legendary guardian of the people against all evils and injustice!”

Young Iksandros looked skeptically at his excited cousin, pondering whether he wanted to go back to sleep in the warm Commonyr fields. He yawned, but eventually replied, “Sure Rommy. Just make sure to add something for me.”

“Hey, you’ll be joining too! Come on, we can be the unstoppable team! Just think, we’ll be the greatest swordsmen in all of Commonyr!”

“That doesn’t sound like much of an accomplishment,” sighed Iksandros. “Besides, I’m not too keen on joining the army. I don’t really like fighting much.”

“Hah, you can’t let me keep beating you all the time, huh Sandy?” Ramuh grinned widely at his cousin, giving him a jovial thumbs up.

The other boy shook his head. "You're more fit to be a warrior than I am anyway."

Glorious days. The tournament in Cathay had finished, but the semi-finals weighed heavily between the two cousins.

Blades clashed, sparks flew in their ephemeral blaze, screeching steel clamoring against fellow steel. Ramuh and Iksandros met for the first, and only time, in a tournament. With his undefeated record against Iksandros in their younger days, Ramuh felt confident that he would win.

A quick parry followed by a counter too quick for Ramuh to see quickly ended that belief. The next thing he remembered was his back on the dirt pitch, his sword held loosely in Iksandros' hand, the other holding a blade over his chest. Iksandros sheathed his sword, and pulled Ramuh up, returning the sword. Though both men left as cousins and friends, the first rifts had already formed.

Changing Days

A bright summer day, a young man stood in decorated clothing, prepared to enter public life as a full member of the nobility. A younger girl stood beside him, looking up at her brother admiringly. The brother smiled at his sister and patted her on the head, tussling her smooth golden hair. He left later that afternoon for the capital.

A cool autumn evening, a young man stood at the docks where a ship made a dark silhouette against the waning sunset. A younger girl ran up to him, hugging her brother tightly and giving him a letter to keep. The brother placed the letter in his bag and gave one last farewell to his sister.

A gray winter morning, a young man looked to the sky, wondering when next the rain would fall. Only the wind and sailors saw him depart. He opened the letter, and read it one last time, before it too was left to flutter away along the wind, into the ocean.

She should be about that girl's age, thought Ramuh, though likely she would have looked less frightened and much healthier. He could not deny that he missed her though, and the thought that he might never return home caused him more grief than he had originally thought.

But his choice was made, and so he could only see it to the end.

A dark room, a young man drew his cloak tightly around his shoulders. Though the fires had raged around him before, no warmth was his any longer.