Iskander Farander
 Iskander Farander
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 "A man is nothing more than what others claim he is." | |
| Gender | Male |
| Race | Elezen |
| Clan | Duskwight |
| Citizenship | Ishgard |
| Age | 55 |
| Alignment | Lawful Neutral[1] |
GENERAL INFORMATION
Iskander Farander was born to a low middle class Ishgardian family. Embedded upon his life his mother had passed during child birth. A fearful occurrence that had often come to pass during those times. But, while his father had been distraught it had not impeded the man’s will. To become highborn, in a sense, a part of the nobility. He pushed his son, named after a great conqueror to strive forward. Upon his seventh year he had been sent away to a fledgling lord. The young boy was entrusted to a knight and had become his squire. His father held high hopes for the young Iskander, and so to make his father happy the boy did strive to be the best.
As the years had passed Iskander and his knight, his master and teacher Ser François had grown close. Ser François had been a gentleman, one who seemed to be unknowing to violence. Yet on the fields of battle the man held honor, many of the drakes of the Northerly lands had felled to his command. But, the swordsman always left his grief upon the fields of valor. It was under this man’s tutelage that Iskander had received his first blade, his first suit of armor. And under this man’s guidance, at eighteen did Iskander fight his first battle. The first time he did bathe in the blood of another, clearing the spearman out with a mighty sweep of the fieldman’s sword. He had proven himself, and under the minor house of a sub-sect Delacroix did he become knighted under its lord. He had become Ser Iskander, and much like his master was he a kind, gentleman. Known throughout his keeps and Ishgard itself as a sense of true valor.
The young Iskander was a man of valor and force. Drakes held no honor but against the heretical forces that he fought against he still held some belief that they were his kin. But with each battle did he continue on. Each encounter he had grown stronger and more grizzled over the years. It was upon his thirty-second year that he was entrusted his own regiment of soldiers. And while he had grown extremely close with Ser François did he have to leave his squadron of soldiers. And so as the years continued on did he serve his house, protecting his people and his lord’s land. The green fields of Coerthas his grounds and his home. With a squire of his own, and a group of loyal friends did Iskander achieve his father’s wishes. To become something in the world. And all would seem fine, the world would not get any better. But with each pressing day the conflict with the dragons. The beings who had pressed the Ishgardian front since the dawn of time had grown worse and worse. Nidhogg had led the mass and he had been deployed. He had witnessed heretics use the blood of drakes’s for their own strength. Able to transform into horrible dravanian aevis. It was at this that he had been curious. And so he had began to sample the blood of those he had fallen. The drakes’ own, gathered up and held on to.
During this time he had courted a woman in the proper fashion, spent time together with her and with it, they had gotten wed. Yet she had passed in childbirth along with his daughter. An anger he had taken out on the enemies he faced in combat.
It was a secret development that he had merely watched grow as the years passed on.. The crackling of fires emblazoned within a pine resin. The mystical tree of the ancients, ones that had been upon the land since longer than any who walked it. He coated his blade in the fires of the drakes themselves, altered crystals of the elements to imbue different properties to them. Each soldier he commanded held his own powder and dust. And where he fought upon the concoction seemed to work. Drakes fell faster, they had pushed their own battle on. Yet as the war had ended, and there was a time of peace just as soon did the conflict begin again. The Garleans had invaded, and the realm had been plunged into chaos. At forty-two did Iskander participate in many of the battles against the Garleans. The entirety of Eorzea had been plunged into the depths of the seven hells. But with each victory and each loss did the man push on. His honor, his lord and his country at stake. It was upon a losing field, the last man alive of his group, and one of the few who continued to desperately fight that he fell upon a weapon he did not think to work, did not think to use. The fires of the drakes he fought themselves would well from his potion of which he consumed. The enemy line had been annihilated and yet so had he. His throat had burned, his flesh seared from within. He had hoped to harness it, distill the flame itself. Determination. Immortality. He had done much and yet he was left with a voice that would never reach god again. The battle was a defeat, but rescued he continued on. The deaths of his comrades, his knights would weigh upon him. Upon the falling of the moon did he recover in a bed, helpless to do anything for his actions had taken a far greater toll. But he did recover. But what he had went back to was little more than a shack, covered in snow. The face of the realm had changed, and his lord has been nowhere to be found.
It was upon this wandering knight that he had been taken into a larger house, served their lord much the same. Grew closer with others all the while. But there was a distrubance within the hinterlands, within Coerthas itself. A mass migration of Auri people had left the wintery state bewildered. And upon the first orders, to slay the immigrants, those who bore the visage of drakes alike. An order from the church, from the highest point to slay these same helpless people who had fled their homeland, man, woman, and child alike. But as the others had struck up their blades, Iskander did not. Unable to bring up his blade against such hopeless people, he thus began his path of exilement. Escaping before the date of his sentencing for disobeying an order from the highest court.
"I am Ike. Nothing more. And nothing less.. " -Iskander Farander
| Current Roleplay Events |
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| Iskander is currently going by the name of Ike. A man who has scratched armor and a soft voice. His blade has seen the test of battle and yet rarely is pulled. He holds few allies and enemies now, and has not been to his homeland in some time. Even after the changing of power. Where he will go from here he does not know. But, he will walk for those slain, and for those he had lost. |
- ♦ Iskander is a soft spoken man despite the heavy armor he wears. He rarely will jump to fighting another and is hard to be goaded into a situation that has a bleak outcome.
- ♦ His armor has no discernible markings or symbols. Where he is from is easy to point out though due to the wolf fur that adorns his pauldrons. And the scales that line his front.
- ♦ Iskander holds life precious to a degree. Yet, those who pose a risk to those close to him are sure to see his blade be drawn once more.
- ♦ Chivalry is not dead with this man.
♦ APPEARANCE
Iskander has a grizzled appearance. The rugged scarring of his face and form betray his age to others when he has his helmet and gear off. His large knife like ears and curved nose portray him as a sort of naer-do-well but the man has truthfully good intentions.
Iskander holds a pair of deep blue eyes. Though they look sad and lack the luster they once had.
Pulled taut in a tight ponytail, the man’s hairline is receding. But, that comes with age and the jet black locks are still kept soft and clean.
For a middle aged man, Iskander is still at the peak of his health. His body ripples with each twist of muscle and flesh and the constant strain of heavy armor all his life had made him accustomed to the brutal laboring and fighting he has encountered. Tall, strong and lean the man is an icon for good health.
♦ PERSONALITY
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COMBAT & WEAPONRY
While Iskander has training in many weapons and could be quite deadly with them if he put his mind to it hr mainly employs a hefty zweihander. A field man’s sword. This is usually imbued with a variety of odd resins which can aid him in combat. He might also call upon his sin, the creation of a potion to spew drake fire from within himself. Or call upon Halone’s own strength and summon a piercing spear of holy sunlight.
| Vigor | ██████████ |
| Endurance | ██████████ |
| Vitality | ██████████ |
| Strength | ██████████ |
| Dexterity | ██████ |
| Intellect | ████ |
| Faith | ██████████ |
| Stealth | █ |
| Speed | █████ |
| Weapon Specialization | Specialized Jobs |
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| ■ Greatsword | ■ Knight |
| ■ Half Swording | ■ Weapon Specialist |
| ■ Pine Resin | ■ Desperado |
| ■ Hand to Hand | ■ Faith User |
| ■ Sword | ■ Honor Bound |
OOC Note Iskander's skills do not mean he is at all the best of the best. Nor does it mean he is a Paladin or Dark Knight if he uses a greatsword.
R E L A T I O N S
Colour Key
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'Exmaple (') - Nickname |
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Explain.
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RUMORS
- ■ Those wishing to add a rumor, editing is a little complicated but not impossible. Please note when you hit the edit button it 'may' claim the page doesn't exist. If it does this simply look up in the URL!! CHANGE THE NUMBER AFTER SECTION TO #5. Example ---> title=Iskander_Farander&action=edit§ion=5
Some of these rumors are untrue, speculation, or are greatly exaggerated.
◢ Common Rumors - Easily overheard. Use these freely!
◢ Uncommon Rumors - A little more difficult to hear. Use sparingly or ask first!
◢ Rare Rumors - Very rarely overheard. Please ask before using!
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Feel free to add your own rumors to this section.
◢ Player Character Rumors - Some of these are more rare than others!
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Themes
First Meetings: To meet Ike for the first time is to meet a man searching for a purpose once more. Sad, lonely and yet still hopeful. He walks with heavy steps as if the world was weighted upon his shoulders. From an upbeat melody a piano plays, but yet something is distant and lonely. As if the snow falls on a home; yet nobody is inside. It is merely the feeling of an empty shell. For what was, can not be made again.
The Living Sleep- Remnants
Recurrent Meetings: It is quite obvious Ike enjoys conversation. And more so that he is not all steel beneath what he wears. He has a genuine care about others and yet while he may not openly show it, it seems he is willing to be there in anyone's time of need. A man in search of compassion and in search to give it to those who need it most. An ambience fills this piece. As if the galaxy wasn't so vast. Ike remembers only the good of those, and wishes to see the light in all things.
The Living Sleep- It flows through all things
Training: Ike's training is quite the regiment, from a full body workout to a period of meditation. A period of quiet that he finds lost to his thoughts.
Levequests: Ike finds most of his work done through levequests. It is not kind or forgiving work, and yet the people he meets often brightens his day. To help another in such a way is surely within the grace of Halone, yet while some may choose to do so to achieve such grace, Ike does so out of the kindness of his heart. Soft strings placate the violence of his job. To fell great beasts, or to lend a helping hand to those in need. A graceful blade that weaves with precision and beauty, rivaling Halone herself.
Remember Me- Still Human
Battle: Ike does not revel in the grit of combat but he excels in such things. A sorrow that pangs his heart always seems to occur when he strikes down a foe. Fast paced piano notes fall interwined with the aetherical beats of life all culminating to a quiet and sudden end much like Ishgard itself.
Xi- Niflheimer
Those who betray Halone: A certain type of feeling wells within Ike when he is confronted by a knight who has not yet seen the follies of a felled king. For what can only be described as betrayal. Anger, sadness and a question and mockery. Heavy instrumental and vocals sing truth and worry. For what allies fight among each other in true aggression?
Protest the Hero- Tilting against windmills
Last Breath: The end approaches the errant being and yet he must not balk in the face of it. For Halone is still with him. To call upon her, utter her prayers and chase the dream of serenity. Ike's end state is a man on the edge. To forgo depression and strike out against the blight. He will not go down without a fight. If only his voice could reach her.
Elfen Lied- Lilium
Screenshots
ARTWORK
OOC NOTES
Player Note Details.
Personal RP Limits Details.
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- Template adapted from Bancroft Gairn, with edits by Xheja Rajhera, inspiration from D'lyhhia Lhuil, and more edits by Glioca Sargonnai. Added tweaking by Iskander Farander. Please leave the link-backs if you use or modify the template.
[[Category: Elezen]
