Valeaux Rillemont
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"For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings."
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Eight years kept away from home – but close enough to taste it. Camp Dragonstone was a hell for a man like Valeaux de Rillemont, the scion of a once-great House, stripped of rank, title, and wealth by scandal those eight years ago. Eight long years.
Eight years too many. As he looked upon the Arc of the Worthy from the saddle of his chocobo, the handsome young knight smiled; an almost wolfish smile, with white teeth flashing in the late afternoon sun. That smile promised vengeance and much more. It was more than past time for his return. He'd finally found the means to do it. He’d made friends – powerful friends. They’d elected him to lead. Lord-Speaker of the Council of Coerthas was his new title; the head of a Council of Lords formed by a document he had envisioned and authored. The Accords of St. Reinette, done in the sight of Halone, and for the future of Ishgard. His father would be proud. And he would have forgiven him.
Standing at above average height, the young Lord of House Rillemont's presence is relatively easy to pick out of a crowd. His hair, the color of spun gold, is always well-kept and parted at the middle. His emerald gaze is deep and thoughtful, and when he smiles, he can light up a room.
Aspects That Stand Out:
Val personifies the concept of noblesse oblige. Rain or shine, he'll have a smile for most people and a kind word. He possesses the gravitas, magnetism, and charisma expected of a leader.
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