Difference between revisions of "Abrenard Rondelet"
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| − | ''" | + | ''"Used to consider myself a monster. But these days, I see the only monsters in these lands are those who hide what they truly are."'' ~ Abrenard Rondelet |
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=History= | =History= | ||
| − | + | The conflict of the classes has always been an issue when it comes to the city-state of Ishgard. The rich tread upon the poor, the hungry left to fight for even the most meager of breadcrumbs to survive. The greed and self-entitlement led to no small manner of various affairs and scandals within the higher-class. Abrenard Rondelet was but the by-product of one such scandal, the result of the union between Lord and servant. The bastard of noble blood. | |
| + | |||
| + | In an effort to save the House such humiliation and to avoid the wrath of the Lady, the days-old babe was delivered to the steps of an orphanage within the Brume with naught but a hand-woven basket with but a thin blanket to protect him. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence in any fashion. Left without any indication of a name, the boy was given the name of the deceased Matron's son who's hair was the same brilliant shade as his own. | ||
| + | When he came of the bare minimum age to work, he was in the streets, tending to any meager duty he could. From feebly cleaning the rubble left in the streets from the most recent attacks to painting houses and the like, his life never had a moment of respite from the harsh reality of the world. | ||
| + | As grew older, work was scarce and often offered to those more in need. There was no bitterness within him. In fact, he preferred that the others take the easier work as they hadn't the strength to live as he did. He'd taken a shining to thievery. Quick fingers and sleight-of-hand made certain the boy was rarely seen and in the few instances he was, his nimble feet carried him over walls and roofs to safety before any could spot him. Despite the crime, it was never out of greed but of survival. Taking only food and drink that he needed to survive the day while providing for his 'brothers'. | ||
| + | But he wanted more. Constant conflict with the children of nobility gave rise to anger and then determination. Looking not to their houses but to the armor-clad figures that soared through the sky whenever the scale-kin loomed, Abrenard Rondelet began living for the sole purpose of joining the ranks of the Dragoon. Those of noble-blood could boast all they wanted of their superior talents but when a commoner took such an honor from sheer force of effort? The look on their faces would be glorious... | ||
| + | |||
| + | Each day was spent training heavily. Mind. Body. He'd take to tests of wit against his elders in the taverns, most often through games of triple triade. He'd throw himself to challenges of endurance and strength, hauling rubble and taking jobs such as tilling fields to improve himself while each night was spent with lance in hand. | ||
| + | |||
| + | His efforts over the years paid off. He was welcomed into the order with an above average impression upon his superiors and wasted little time in pushing himself higher into the ranks. The outrage and disbelief on the faces of those who'd mocked his class for so long were well worth every moment. | ||
| + | |||
| + | This drove a few extremists to an act that would tear the man down from the inside. Abrenard had a habit of 'adopting' the youth of the Brume to ensure they survived, taking care of them as best he could. Gaspard was but a boy in his teens and unable to survive as his brother had due to a birth-given defect that slowed his motor skills. One who idolized Abrenard and gifted him with a hand-crafted mask that he'd often wear when in the midst of theft. It was he they chose to frame for theft and attempted assault upon one of their daughters, who played her part perfectly. Weeping and sobbing hysterically. Abrenard arrived just in time to watch the blade cut the boy's throat. No trial. No justice. | ||
| + | |||
| + | The lance cast aside, Abrenard had a new purpose. He couldn't justify defending a people so vicious and spiteful that they'd kill an innocent just for the sake of enraging another. He took to the taverns, to the streets. Long had he heard the tale of the fabled 'Dark Knights'. Of their deeds most would call villainous against the Holy See, but within Abrenard saw only justice, pure and true. They danced around no politics, heeded no law. He needed to find one such Knight. | ||
| + | |||
| + | It took many moons before a reliable source finally managed to locate the rumors of one such character. Abrenard latched onto it and gave chase, eventually happening across the armored figure and wasting little time in lashing out at him, steeling himself to restrain the other before demanding he be taught. There was something in the boy's eye, that look of utter desperation and outrage, that the Knight saw potential within. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Years passed. None had seen nor heard from either of the pair since their meeting. The Calamity had fallen and Ishgard lay feet beneath the snow, silence gripping the night.. until a sharp scream of fear and agony pierced the night and the woman who had commanded the death of Gaspard plummeted from her balcony with skull shattering upon the pavement, her middle torn by the serrated blade. | ||
| + | |||
| + | He'd had his justice. Gaspard had his vengeance. Fleeing from the scene with those very same nimble feet that'd allowed him to escape before, Abrenard Rondelet took flight from the nation of Ishgard and found himself within Tailfeather, hiding amongst the hunters until more recently the gates were opened and he took the chance to flee the Holy See inquisitors with a venture south. | ||
=Personality= | =Personality= | ||
| − | An incredibly | + | An incredibly abrasive and blunt man on the outside, Abrenard tends to have a way of bringing the worst kind of attention upon himself due to his nature to disregard coddling anyone who spends most of their time feeling sorry for themselves given his own harsh upbringing. Regardless, the man seems to be openly welcoming to near anyone willing to sit and enjoy a drink by his side. He's not ever one to allow troublemakers to go without a stern word of warning. Under the rugged exterior lies a quiet man, one ravaged by both his deeds and the memory of how cruel 'humanity' can truly be. |
| − | |||
| − | |||
==Other Notes== | ==Other Notes== | ||
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'''Likes''' | '''Likes''' | ||
| − | * | + | *Alcohol: |
| − | + | He's done a fair amount of deeds he regrets heavily and finds that alcohol is likely the safest way to keep the darker avenues of his mind from drawing him down memory lane. More often than not, it's safe to assume he's intoxicated in some form with a hint of drink on his breath. His drink of choice? "Rum. No additions. Just a straight, tall glass of just rum." | |
| − | * | + | *Nurturing: |
| − | + | He has an incredible weakness when it comes to helping those who can't help themselves. It's not uncommon to see him trotting about with his adopted niece, Inelaa Locte, in tow. Quick to offer an ear, a gift, a cuddle or more to those who are in need, it's clear he does have some form of soft-spot within that hardened exterior. | |
*Challenges: | *Challenges: | ||
| − | The training of the Dragoon is perilous and not for the faint of heart. Yet while some cower at the thought of such | + | The training of the Dragoon is perilous and not for the faint of heart. Yet while some cower at the thought of such an arduous journey, he flourishes with a grin on his lips and a fire in his heart. Be it mental or physical, he'll not often outright deny the challenge posed before him and can often be seen dabbling in his spare time with various riddles or physical training that borders on the insane. |
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The thought of any man or woman holding themselves above others due to bloodline or wealth is laughable to a man who had nothing and built a life for himself from nothing. Most Ishgardians will find him to be incredibly put off by their presence and his words incredibly unforgiving. If you want to hold such a status, earn it. To do otherwise is disrespectful to those who put forth the effort to climb the ladder. | The thought of any man or woman holding themselves above others due to bloodline or wealth is laughable to a man who had nothing and built a life for himself from nothing. Most Ishgardians will find him to be incredibly put off by their presence and his words incredibly unforgiving. If you want to hold such a status, earn it. To do otherwise is disrespectful to those who put forth the effort to climb the ladder. | ||
| − | * | + | *Miqo'te: |
| − | + | He's no racist. Not by a long shot. Many of the new races outside of Ishgard have his excitement but when it comes to Miqo'te, a fair bunch have caused his opinion of the race to slant just slightly. He doesn't go far out of his way to make friends with them, even calling them 'cats', but there are a few exceptions that have been redeeming the bunch for him. | |
| − | |||
=Relationships= | =Relationships= | ||
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==Family== | ==Family== | ||
| − | + | Ineela Locte - Having been asked to take Neela under his wing by her mother, Kiipa, Abrenard has become 'Uncle Kweh' to the younger woman and humors her nickname for him through styling his hair after the 'bird's behind' which she seemed to find amusing when they were first introduced. The pair have become strongly bonded after only a short time and though he's never had any family, she is one he would gladly defend with his life. | |
==Comrades== | ==Comrades== | ||
| − | Currently under the employ of the | + | Currently under the employ of the Dread Wyrm's of Dalamud's End, Abrenard serves as a personal guardian to Admiral Shiori herself and lives for the thrill of the fight provided in doing so due to her madcap adventures. The crew is vast and varied with many providing different talents. |
| + | |||
| + | *'''[[Shiori Eikitaika]]''' (PC) - His best friend and Admiral, their friendship began with a question about Gaspard's mask being worn and the pair being crude and teasing one another. He's often by her side regardless her choices and offers her quiet moments where he might hold her in his arms in an attempt to reassure and comfort her. As of late, however, tensions have risen due to her recent promotion and the state of affairs between Abrenard and the crew. While he nurses a fondness that might boarder upon romantic, he respects her far too much to risk the attempt to swoon her. | ||
| − | *'''[[ | + | *'''[[Raih Unaze]]''' (PC) - The first time they met, the girl tried to bottle him upside the head for a joke about her sexual relations only to find Abrenard holding the shattered bottle to her throat with a snarl. Obviously, this hasn't exactly changed as of late given their last interaction involved the woman glaring at him and toying with knives prior to him threatening to send her woman home with naught but a torso, but she's not his most hated thing in the world after a new recruit to the crew has the perfect way of distracting him from hating Raih via speaking like someone who should never breed. |
| − | *'''[[ | + | *'''[[Artoria Tumet]]''' (PC) - A superior of his amongst the crew, he finds himself constantly questioning how she ever came into a position of power. Young, arrogant and entirely self-serving from all that he's witnessed, he has little care for the orders of the girl. Having demonstrated openly that she's unstable and relatively out of control when it comes to her abilities, he's guarded about her position. Recently, she's taken it to an entirely new level after having openly refused to mend fences for Shiori's sake and seeming to believe he thinks with nothing but lust and arrogance, accusing him of falling silent once he learned of her preference for women. Though he's confused how that came about given he couldn't speak with a woman who all but disappeared after the initial moment, he's taken leave of the crew until something can be done about the matter. |
| + | *'''[[Roni Oni]]''' (PC) - A loud-mouthed youth who's taken to throwing the weight of his position as superior around, Abrenard's found himself growing ever more annoyed with the boy. Already having had to resist the urge to kick in his teeth after he threw various insults and slurs towards his niece and demanding that Abe follow his orders even when not on-duty for the crew, it's becoming a challenge to remain loyal. | ||
| + | |||
| + | *'''[[Erimmont Chevalier]]''' (PC) - Caretaker of the infirmary within Dalamud's End, Erimmont serves as an enigmatic father-figure of sorts to Abrenard. Despite the man's warm and friendly attitude with everyone, he's heard the growls tear from the man's throat when angry and finds his ability to hide that feral side of himself so perfectly incredibly disturbing. | ||
==Friends== | ==Friends== | ||
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'''''Disclaimer:''' The notes below are purely in character and are not influenced at all by OOC, or how well I know anyone outside of RP. If there's a missing listing, it's either due to the author's poor memory or there being too little information for Abrenard to consider them more than a simple contact. | '''''Disclaimer:''' The notes below are purely in character and are not influenced at all by OOC, or how well I know anyone outside of RP. If there's a missing listing, it's either due to the author's poor memory or there being too little information for Abrenard to consider them more than a simple contact. | ||
| − | *''' | + | *'''[[Sashana Star]]''' (PC) - It started with the man making an idle comment to another in the Quicksand regarding a motto he'd mostly seen proven true. "If you lack furry ears and a tail, you're generally left alone." Of course, Star heard such a thing and was quick to rush towards him with incredible displeasure for the jab and the pair made a show of outright snarling at one another for the next bell. Though eventually, Abrenard admitted there was a grudge which Star seemed intent to fix, meeting him nights later by chance and leading him away with but a kiss and a promise of a 'date'. |
| − | *'''[[Nai Ruahki]]''' - | + | *'''[[Nai Ruahki]]''' - Originally, she was just a pretty face who helped him find his way through Limsa Lominsa during his early days in the south. Now? She's a good friend and a set of ears when he needs them. Also, she seems intent on turning him into a fat lord as she continues to stuff him with various luxurious foods that he's never had before. |
| − | *'''[[ | + | *'''[[Kiipa Nulstat]]''' (PC) - Originally his mender and superior, Kiipa Nulstat remained a fast friend of Abrenard's after his departing of her Company and continues to offer him aid when his mind is clouded by dark thoughts. Having recently trusted him to protect her daughter from harm, he's often in touch with the Keeper Matriarch to ensure she's in fair health and keeping herself from working to near death. |
| − | *''' | + | *'''[[Anton Borneheld]]''' (PC) - A Hyur chef that was the first to speak with Abrenard once he set foot in the Dreamer's yard. Bringing him out from the cold night air and offering him a stiff drink, employment, and conversation, Abrenard finds the man to be a decent friend thus far. Time will tell if that proves to be true. |
== Other Connections == | == Other Connections == | ||
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==Common Rumors== | ==Common Rumors== | ||
| − | *"The | + | *"The loud-mouthed red-headed prick? Yeah, he's been around. Drinks so heavily that I'm amazed his liver hasn't rotted from the inside." |
| − | *" | + | *"I think he's overcompensating for something small with that boisterous attitude if you get what I mean." |
==Moderate Rumors== | ==Moderate Rumors== | ||
| − | *"He | + | *"He's.. something. He's a bit of a prick but his heart is in the right place. I mean anyone who gives half of his earnings to random orphans must have some good merit, right?" |
| − | *" | + | *"Caught him alone once without a drink. He looked almost like he was in a trance. Lost and distant. Must've seen some damned awful things." |
==Rare Rumors== | ==Rare Rumors== | ||
| − | *"Abrenard Rondelet. Former Dragoon. Showed incredible promise during his time. Not often you see one of the commoner's climb the ranks as he did but it was nothing short of a miracle | + | *"Abrenard Rondelet. Former Dragoon. Showed incredible promise during his time. Not often you see one of the commoner's climb the ranks as he did but it was nothing short of a miracle. He retired from the order after an incident involving a young lad being put to the axe for thieving. A shame, really." |
*"He seems confident and maybe even a touch cocky when you speak with him. I can't help but feel that under it all, he's lost. He's been pulled into unknown lands without so much as a friendly face to reassure him. Not a single coin to his name from what I've seen. " | *"He seems confident and maybe even a touch cocky when you speak with him. I can't help but feel that under it all, he's lost. He's been pulled into unknown lands without so much as a friendly face to reassure him. Not a single coin to his name from what I've seen. " | ||
| − | |||
== PC Rumors == | == PC Rumors == | ||
| + | * "Abrenard? He's a fucking arsehole. But he's one of ours so..." - [[Raih Unaze]] | ||
| + | * "Abe..." spoke [[Odette Saoirse]] softly, gaze distant as though delving into memory. "So much I dared hope for, so hard we fought. Thrashing ineffectively for but single breath of air free from turmoil; lungs smothered, drowning, in bloody oceans. I regret... a great deal. Too much. But, never the time we spent together. I am not the woman I was before we met, nor will I ever be." The words trailed off to silence as highlander was drawn back to present with rasped clear of throat. "To answer your question, yes. I knew him." | ||
| + | |||
(( You're more than welcome to add any rumor you'd look, for better or worse. Hit me! )) | (( You're more than welcome to add any rumor you'd look, for better or worse. Hit me! )) | ||
| − | |||
=IC Quotes and Trivia= | =IC Quotes and Trivia= | ||
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:: Origin: ''Ecliptica'' | :: Origin: ''Ecliptica'' | ||
:: <small>Context: Character theme regarding his leaving the city of Ishgard. </small> | :: <small>Context: Character theme regarding his leaving the city of Ishgard. </small> | ||
| + | |||
| + | : ''[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f55CqLc6IR0 Drink]'' | ||
| + | :: Artist: Alestorm | ||
| + | :: Origin: ''Sunset on the Golden Age'' | ||
| + | :: <small>Context: A perfect song regarding his drinking habits and piracy. </small> | ||
=Writings= | =Writings= | ||
This section contains any stories related to this character, and anything written ICly. | This section contains any stories related to this character, and anything written ICly. | ||
| − | *[http:// | + | *[http://irritableishgardian.tumblr.com/ Irritable Ishgardian] - IC Tumblr where you'll find most writings as they're drawn up. |
=Thanks= | =Thanks= | ||
| Line 137: | Line 164: | ||
| stat_2_value = 6'4" | | stat_2_value = 6'4" | ||
| stat_3 = Weight | | stat_3 = Weight | ||
| − | | stat_3_value = | + | | stat_3_value = 230 Ponze |
| stat_4 = Eye Color | | stat_4 = Eye Color | ||
| stat_4_value = Emerald (Left), Sapphire (Right) | | stat_4_value = Emerald (Left), Sapphire (Right) | ||
Latest revision as of 04:17, 15 November 2016
"Used to consider myself a monster. But these days, I see the only monsters in these lands are those who hide what they truly are." ~ Abrenard Rondelet
|
[edit] The conflict of the classes has always been an issue when it comes to the city-state of Ishgard. The rich tread upon the poor, the hungry left to fight for even the most meager of breadcrumbs to survive. The greed and self-entitlement led to no small manner of various affairs and scandals within the higher-class. Abrenard Rondelet was but the by-product of one such scandal, the result of the union between Lord and servant. The bastard of noble blood. In an effort to save the House such humiliation and to avoid the wrath of the Lady, the days-old babe was delivered to the steps of an orphanage within the Brume with naught but a hand-woven basket with but a thin blanket to protect him. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence in any fashion. Left without any indication of a name, the boy was given the name of the deceased Matron's son who's hair was the same brilliant shade as his own. When he came of the bare minimum age to work, he was in the streets, tending to any meager duty he could. From feebly cleaning the rubble left in the streets from the most recent attacks to painting houses and the like, his life never had a moment of respite from the harsh reality of the world. As grew older, work was scarce and often offered to those more in need. There was no bitterness within him. In fact, he preferred that the others take the easier work as they hadn't the strength to live as he did. He'd taken a shining to thievery. Quick fingers and sleight-of-hand made certain the boy was rarely seen and in the few instances he was, his nimble feet carried him over walls and roofs to safety before any could spot him. Despite the crime, it was never out of greed but of survival. Taking only food and drink that he needed to survive the day while providing for his 'brothers'. But he wanted more. Constant conflict with the children of nobility gave rise to anger and then determination. Looking not to their houses but to the armor-clad figures that soared through the sky whenever the scale-kin loomed, Abrenard Rondelet began living for the sole purpose of joining the ranks of the Dragoon. Those of noble-blood could boast all they wanted of their superior talents but when a commoner took such an honor from sheer force of effort? The look on their faces would be glorious... Each day was spent training heavily. Mind. Body. He'd take to tests of wit against his elders in the taverns, most often through games of triple triade. He'd throw himself to challenges of endurance and strength, hauling rubble and taking jobs such as tilling fields to improve himself while each night was spent with lance in hand. His efforts over the years paid off. He was welcomed into the order with an above average impression upon his superiors and wasted little time in pushing himself higher into the ranks. The outrage and disbelief on the faces of those who'd mocked his class for so long were well worth every moment. This drove a few extremists to an act that would tear the man down from the inside. Abrenard had a habit of 'adopting' the youth of the Brume to ensure they survived, taking care of them as best he could. Gaspard was but a boy in his teens and unable to survive as his brother had due to a birth-given defect that slowed his motor skills. One who idolized Abrenard and gifted him with a hand-crafted mask that he'd often wear when in the midst of theft. It was he they chose to frame for theft and attempted assault upon one of their daughters, who played her part perfectly. Weeping and sobbing hysterically. Abrenard arrived just in time to watch the blade cut the boy's throat. No trial. No justice. The lance cast aside, Abrenard had a new purpose. He couldn't justify defending a people so vicious and spiteful that they'd kill an innocent just for the sake of enraging another. He took to the taverns, to the streets. Long had he heard the tale of the fabled 'Dark Knights'. Of their deeds most would call villainous against the Holy See, but within Abrenard saw only justice, pure and true. They danced around no politics, heeded no law. He needed to find one such Knight. It took many moons before a reliable source finally managed to locate the rumors of one such character. Abrenard latched onto it and gave chase, eventually happening across the armored figure and wasting little time in lashing out at him, steeling himself to restrain the other before demanding he be taught. There was something in the boy's eye, that look of utter desperation and outrage, that the Knight saw potential within. Years passed. None had seen nor heard from either of the pair since their meeting. The Calamity had fallen and Ishgard lay feet beneath the snow, silence gripping the night.. until a sharp scream of fear and agony pierced the night and the woman who had commanded the death of Gaspard plummeted from her balcony with skull shattering upon the pavement, her middle torn by the serrated blade. He'd had his justice. Gaspard had his vengeance. Fleeing from the scene with those very same nimble feet that'd allowed him to escape before, Abrenard Rondelet took flight from the nation of Ishgard and found himself within Tailfeather, hiding amongst the hunters until more recently the gates were opened and he took the chance to flee the Holy See inquisitors with a venture south.
An incredibly abrasive and blunt man on the outside, Abrenard tends to have a way of bringing the worst kind of attention upon himself due to his nature to disregard coddling anyone who spends most of their time feeling sorry for themselves given his own harsh upbringing. Regardless, the man seems to be openly welcoming to near anyone willing to sit and enjoy a drink by his side. He's not ever one to allow troublemakers to go without a stern word of warning. Under the rugged exterior lies a quiet man, one ravaged by both his deeds and the memory of how cruel 'humanity' can truly be. Other NotesLikes
He's done a fair amount of deeds he regrets heavily and finds that alcohol is likely the safest way to keep the darker avenues of his mind from drawing him down memory lane. More often than not, it's safe to assume he's intoxicated in some form with a hint of drink on his breath. His drink of choice? "Rum. No additions. Just a straight, tall glass of just rum."
He has an incredible weakness when it comes to helping those who can't help themselves. It's not uncommon to see him trotting about with his adopted niece, Inelaa Locte, in tow. Quick to offer an ear, a gift, a cuddle or more to those who are in need, it's clear he does have some form of soft-spot within that hardened exterior.
The training of the Dragoon is perilous and not for the faint of heart. Yet while some cower at the thought of such an arduous journey, he flourishes with a grin on his lips and a fire in his heart. Be it mental or physical, he'll not often outright deny the challenge posed before him and can often be seen dabbling in his spare time with various riddles or physical training that borders on the insane.
No surprise he's ever suffered has been a good one and thus, he tends to become a touch tense when one rolls along. There are exceptions, mostly if the person dropping said surprise is a close comrade, but they still tend to make his gut roll uncontrollably with discontent and stress.
The thought of any man or woman holding themselves above others due to bloodline or wealth is laughable to a man who had nothing and built a life for himself from nothing. Most Ishgardians will find him to be incredibly put off by their presence and his words incredibly unforgiving. If you want to hold such a status, earn it. To do otherwise is disrespectful to those who put forth the effort to climb the ladder.
He's no racist. Not by a long shot. Many of the new races outside of Ishgard have his excitement but when it comes to Miqo'te, a fair bunch have caused his opinion of the race to slant just slightly. He doesn't go far out of his way to make friends with them, even calling them 'cats', but there are a few exceptions that have been redeeming the bunch for him. FamilyIneela Locte - Having been asked to take Neela under his wing by her mother, Kiipa, Abrenard has become 'Uncle Kweh' to the younger woman and humors her nickname for him through styling his hair after the 'bird's behind' which she seemed to find amusing when they were first introduced. The pair have become strongly bonded after only a short time and though he's never had any family, she is one he would gladly defend with his life. ComradesCurrently under the employ of the Dread Wyrm's of Dalamud's End, Abrenard serves as a personal guardian to Admiral Shiori herself and lives for the thrill of the fight provided in doing so due to her madcap adventures. The crew is vast and varied with many providing different talents.
FriendsDisclaimer: The notes below are purely in character and are not influenced at all by OOC, or how well I know anyone outside of RP. If there's a missing listing, it's either due to the author's poor memory or there being too little information for Abrenard to consider them more than a simple contact.
Other ConnectionsCommon Rumors
Moderate Rumors
Rare Rumors
PC Rumors
(( You're more than welcome to add any rumor you'd look, for better or worse. Hit me! )) IC QuotesPosted as they are created. Trivia
This section contains any stories related to this character, and anything written ICly.
Full Disclosure: I made use of several snippets I found on various profiles but the main contributor was Ciel Sauveterre. Credit for the design goes to her as far as I'm aware. Be certain to take a look at her profile for she's a divine role-player herself. |
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