Difference between revisions of "Herseur D'Sauveur"
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+ | <center>'''Put anything you want here such as notes for readers or completely remove this line if you have nothing you want to note.'''</center><br><br> | ||
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spacing:0.2em;"><center>GENERAL INFORMATION</center></div></span></h3> | spacing:0.2em;"><center>GENERAL INFORMATION</center></div></span></h3> | ||
− | <div align=justify><div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#444146;font-family:Georgia;">Blasphemy carries a price that few men can bear. Lance Corporal Herseur D'Sauveur of the Ishgardian Temple Knights learned the weight of heresy well after cursing the name of his beloved goddess in rage after his first failure on the battlefield. The young cavalry officer was punished severely for spitting in the face of She who consecrated The Holy See, leading to brief imprisonment. After serving his sentence which ended prematurely, just after Nidhogg's awakening, he was swiftly transferred to a penal regiment and made one of many to lead the suicidal charges against the vile brood of Dravania. By sheer luck, the cavalryman survived alongside his only steed, Savisha, until the end of the war. Perhaps, he wondered, he was kept alive only because his debt to The Fury was not yet paid. | + | <div align=justify><div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#444146;font-family:Georgia;">Blasphemy carries a price that few men can bear. Lance Corporal Herseur D'Sauveur of the Ishgardian Temple Knights learned the weight of heresy well after cursing the name of his beloved goddess in rage after his first failure on the battlefield. The young cavalry officer was punished severely for spitting in the face of She who consecrated The Holy See, leading to brief imprisonment. After serving his sentence which ended prematurely, just after Nidhogg's awakening, he was swiftly transferred to a penal regiment and made one of many to lead the suicidal charges against the vile brood of Dravania. By sheer luck, the cavalryman survived alongside his only steed, Savisha, until the end of the war. Perhaps, he wondered, he was kept alive only because his debt to The Fury was not yet paid. Sickness overtook Herseur towards the end of the war, but its malevolence did not fully bloom until the day the Archbishop died. Pustules, gaping sores, and rotting wounds began to afflict him like a curse sent from on high, and the arrogant young man learned his place under The Fury as all he had loved was ripped from his hands. His beloved wife barred the door and windows, fearing that his pestilence would spread to their four sons. His regiment cast him out, seeing that he was no longer fit to serve in battle, nor was he fit to serve alongside the able-bodied. With nothing but shame left to his name, he took his steed and rode down The Steps of Faith one last time, exiling himself from his home not just out of humiliation, but for the sake of his own kin. None deserved a curse that he believed was designed solely for him.</div></div> |
− | Sickness overtook Herseur towards the end of the war, but its malevolence did not fully bloom until the day the Archbishop died. Pustules, gaping sores, and rotting wounds began to afflict him like a curse sent from on high, and the arrogant young man learned his place under The Fury as all he had loved was ripped from his hands. His beloved wife barred the door and windows, fearing that his pestilence would spread to their four sons. His regiment cast him out, seeing that he was no longer fit to serve in battle, nor was he fit to serve alongside the able-bodied. With nothing but shame left to his name, he took his steed and rode down The Steps of Faith one last time, exiling himself from his home not just out of humiliation, but for the sake of his own kin. None deserved a curse that he believed was designed solely for him. | ||
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="font-family:Georgia;padding:10px 15px; background: #000000;font-size:16px;color:#ffffff; text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px black;letter- | <h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="font-family:Georgia;padding:10px 15px; background: #000000;font-size:16px;color:#ffffff; text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px black;letter- | ||
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spacing:0.2em;"><center>APPEARANCE</center></div></span></h3> | spacing:0.2em;"><center>APPEARANCE</center></div></span></h3> | ||
− | <div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#26212B;font-family:Georgia;">Few behold the face of the shameful leper, but those who do often feel their stomachs churn in disgust. His pallid skin clings tight to ailing sinew like bleached parchment, thin and fragile. Dueling scars, earned from a youth of saber fencing, have reopened and gone fetid, rotting through his right cheek in such a way that nearly all of his teeth show along it. Sullen, sunken eyes have not yet lost their vitality nor color, however, and shine through his hideous visage as piercing rays of frigid blue. | + | <div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#26212B;font-family:Georgia;">Few behold the face of the shameful leper, but those who do often feel their stomachs churn in disgust. His pallid skin clings tight to ailing sinew like bleached parchment, thin and fragile. Dueling scars, earned from a youth of saber fencing, have reopened and gone fetid, rotting through his right cheek in such a way that nearly all of his teeth show along it. Sullen, sunken eyes have not yet lost their vitality nor color, however, and shine through his hideous visage as piercing rays of frigid blue. Beyond his countenance, Herseur's frame shows equal signs of decay. He once towered over his compatriots and bore shoulders so broad that they put many men to shame, but muscular atrophy has stricken him, especially at the core, causing him to lurch forward naturally. His firm posture often looks awkward and forced, as standing straight has become a conscious effort for him.</div> |
− | Beyond his countenance, Herseur's frame shows equal signs of decay. He once towered over his compatriots and bore shoulders so broad that they put many men to shame, but muscular atrophy has stricken him, especially at the core, causing him to lurch forward naturally. His firm posture often looks awkward and forced, as standing straight has become a conscious effort for him. | ||
<div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#26212B;font-family:Georgia;">Aspects That Stand Out: </div> | <div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#26212B;font-family:Georgia;">Aspects That Stand Out: </div> | ||
− | :<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;color:#444146;">■ ''He is neurotic about keeping all of his skin covered in numerous heavy layers.''</div></div> | + | :<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;color:#444146;">■ '' He is neurotic about keeping all of his skin covered in numerous heavy layers.''</div></div> |
:<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;color:#444146;">■ ''His face is utterly mutilated, visible only when he needs to remove his mask for fresh air or sustenance.''</div></div> | :<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;color:#444146;">■ ''His face is utterly mutilated, visible only when he needs to remove his mask for fresh air or sustenance.''</div></div> | ||
− | :<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;color:#444146;">■ ''Occasionally his hands tremble. His shakes are far more pronounced and widespread after a coughing fit.''</div></div> | + | :<div align=justify><div style="padding:5px 15px;font-family:Georgia;color:#444146;">■ '' Occasionally his hands tremble. His shakes are far more pronounced and widespread after a coughing fit.''</div></div> |
=Personality= | =Personality= | ||
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<div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#444146;font-family:Georgia;"></div> | <div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#444146;font-family:Georgia;"></div> | ||
− | <div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#444146;font-family:Georgia;">Quick to anger but quick to calm, Herseur is a mercurial man enslaved to his own volatility. His ambitions are betrayed by his own rage, and his silver tongue is rendered into little but mud with the venom he spews when provoked. As a man with little time left, he has abandoned his formalities, his patience, and much of his compassion.</div> | + | <div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#444146;font-family:Georgia;">Quick to anger but quick to calm, Herseur is a mercurial man enslaved to his own volatility. His ambitions are betrayed by his own rage, and his silver tongue is rendered into little but mud with the venom he spews when provoked. As a man with little time left, he has abandoned his formalities, his patience, and much of his compassion. </div> |
<div align=center><table style="position:center;" width="90%"> | <div align=center><table style="position:center;" width="90%"> | ||
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<div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #000000;font-size:14px;color:#ffffff;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''D I S L I K E S'''</center></div></span></h3> | <div style="padding:10px 35px; background: #000000;font-size:14px;color:#ffffff;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px black"><center>'''D I S L I K E S'''</center></div></span></h3> | ||
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#444146;"> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#444146;">''Healers'''. Enough snake oil salesmen and malicious surgeons have promised cures to a man desperate for any respite he can get. Any healer other than the one he picked for himself is just another predator to be wary of.</font></div> |
: <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#444146;">'''Closed spaces'''. Between prison cells, quarantines, and the feverish mayhem of melee, he has had few good experiences in closed spaces.</font></div> | : <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#444146;">'''Closed spaces'''. Between prison cells, quarantines, and the feverish mayhem of melee, he has had few good experiences in closed spaces.</font></div> | ||
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: <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#000000;">'''Saber fencing'''. Old habits die hard. For the sake of keeping his swordplay fresh, he's happy to risk some skin. It's all bound to fall off sooner or later anyways.</font></div> | : <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#000000;">'''Saber fencing'''. Old habits die hard. For the sake of keeping his swordplay fresh, he's happy to risk some skin. It's all bound to fall off sooner or later anyways.</font></div> | ||
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#444146;">'''Chanting'''. His suffering's given way to a faith stronger than any he's ever felt. He makes sure to devote what little breath he has left to The Fury. </font></div> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#444146;">'''Chanting'''. His suffering's given way to a faith stronger than any he's ever felt. He makes sure to devote what little breath he has left to The Fury.</font></div> |
</tr> | </tr> | ||
<tr> | <tr> | ||
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: <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#444146;">'''Wary'''. Betrayal after betrayal has given him strong survivalist instincts. He's seldom caught off-guard unless eased into a moment of respite.</font></div> | : <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#444146;">'''Wary'''. Betrayal after betrayal has given him strong survivalist instincts. He's seldom caught off-guard unless eased into a moment of respite.</font></div> | ||
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#444146;">'''Loyal'''. A lapdog to the very end.</font></div> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia"><font style="color:#000000;" size="3">■</font> <font style="color:#444146;">''' Loyal'''. A lapdog to the very end.</font></div> |
<td style="width: 33%;vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline"> | <td style="width: 33%;vertical-align: top;font-size:9pt;font-family:Helvetica;"><h3><span class="mw-headline"> | ||
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{| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;" | {| class="mw-collapsible mw-collapsed wikitable" width="100%" border="0" style="vertical-align: middle; text-align: left;" | ||
− | ! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>Sofia D' | + | ! <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px; font-variant:small-caps;"><b>Sofia D'sauveur,</b> <i>Wife</i>. <b>(</b> <b>)</b> - <b>Title.</b></div> |
|- | |- | ||
| <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px;"><b>Character's Thoughts:</b> <i>" ."</i></div> | | <div style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:14px;"><b>Character's Thoughts:</b> <i>" ."</i></div> | ||
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=====Template made by [[User:Abelia Kir Armiger]] and free for use! ===== | =====Template made by [[User:Abelia Kir Armiger]] and free for use! ===== | ||
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[[Category: Player Character]] | [[Category: Player Character]] | ||
[[Category: Server]] | [[Category: Server]] | ||
[[Category: Race]] | [[Category: Race]] | ||
[[Category: Clan]] | [[Category: Clan]] |
Revision as of 12:49, 19 October 2017
[edit]
Blasphemy carries a price that few men can bear. Lance Corporal Herseur D'Sauveur of the Ishgardian Temple Knights learned the weight of heresy well after cursing the name of his beloved goddess in rage after his first failure on the battlefield. The young cavalry officer was punished severely for spitting in the face of She who consecrated The Holy See, leading to brief imprisonment. After serving his sentence which ended prematurely, just after Nidhogg's awakening, he was swiftly transferred to a penal regiment and made one of many to lead the suicidal charges against the vile brood of Dravania. By sheer luck, the cavalryman survived alongside his only steed, Savisha, until the end of the war. Perhaps, he wondered, he was kept alive only because his debt to The Fury was not yet paid. Sickness overtook Herseur towards the end of the war, but its malevolence did not fully bloom until the day the Archbishop died. Pustules, gaping sores, and rotting wounds began to afflict him like a curse sent from on high, and the arrogant young man learned his place under The Fury as all he had loved was ripped from his hands. His beloved wife barred the door and windows, fearing that his pestilence would spread to their four sons. His regiment cast him out, seeing that he was no longer fit to serve in battle, nor was he fit to serve alongside the able-bodied. With nothing but shame left to his name, he took his steed and rode down The Steps of Faith one last time, exiling himself from his home not just out of humiliation, but for the sake of his own kin. None deserved a curse that he believed was designed solely for him.
Few behold the face of the shameful leper, but those who do often feel their stomachs churn in disgust. His pallid skin clings tight to ailing sinew like bleached parchment, thin and fragile. Dueling scars, earned from a youth of saber fencing, have reopened and gone fetid, rotting through his right cheek in such a way that nearly all of his teeth show along it. Sullen, sunken eyes have not yet lost their vitality nor color, however, and shine through his hideous visage as piercing rays of frigid blue. Beyond his countenance, Herseur's frame shows equal signs of decay. He once towered over his compatriots and bore shoulders so broad that they put many men to shame, but muscular atrophy has stricken him, especially at the core, causing him to lurch forward naturally. His firm posture often looks awkward and forced, as standing straight has become a conscious effort for him.
Aspects That Stand Out:
Quick to anger but quick to calm, Herseur is a mercurial man enslaved to his own volatility. His ambitions are betrayed by his own rage, and his silver tongue is rendered into little but mud with the venom he spews when provoked. As a man with little time left, he has abandoned his formalities, his patience, and much of his compassion.
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Template made by User:Abelia Kir Armiger and free for use! |