Post by llapgoch on Jan 11, 2018 3:51:22 GMT -5
The basics:
Height: 5'11
Weight: 190 lbs
Hair: Brown with distinct red in it, short cropped.
Eyes: Blue
Other: A well grown out chin strap beard.
Born to the Minor House of Godfrey, a supporter of the Hexxans in the Cassian Wetlands, Victor is the second born son of Geraint Godfrey and Carmela Montana. He had a decent childhood but was always second best to his elder brother, Vincent. Both were talented in art and reading, well spoken, diplomatic and athletic but at sixteen Victor and his father had the talk. He knew the day would come just as it had to others he'd heard about. There can't be two owners of the family. He'd been called to the study.
His father was as gracious as one could be. He spoke politely and calmly about how he supported Victor and loved him but that old laws were old laws. Tradition was a preservation of fire, not the worship of old ashes. Things must be as they must be but that did not mean to leave the family, just that he was a fully grown man and had to find for himself what every man with a grain of salt should, a home, wife, children and the means to achieve that with Gods Grace. The young man sat straight faced but growing ever anxious. His eyes betrayed this easily but his father moved on. He'd had a letter sent a month ago to the Ginean Commonwealth Army on his behalf and had received word back today. Victor was to report within the week. With a smile his father assured him it would do him well to serve, that his uncle had and even his great great grandfather had during the Hexxen and Hellwhyle conflict. Geraint produced a straight leather wallet and set it before him. One hundred dollars should set him well. The army fed and housed, he'd have few bills to pay. He'd have two days to get ready before leaving to join the other Cassians fifty miles away. Oh and that he should have a word with his mother, that she wished to talk to him as well...but tomorrow. Tonight was not a good time.
With this his father stood and walked around the desk to physically place the wallet in Victors hands as he rose, stunned. With a slap on the shoulder Geraint led him to the door and told him he should get packing soon and get a good nights rest. Victor thought he heard a sob from behind the door to an adjoining room. He could only nod and make his way slowly to his bed chamber. The entire episode back was like a dream. The walls, the flagstones, the light, everything seemed different somehow. Even his room seemed different. It felt already empty. Lacking any emotion he began to pack lightly. He was done in a few minutes and for the most of the night he lay staring into the dark at absolutely nothing.
Waking the next day to the maid drawing back the curtains to reveal a lovely, grey and rain filled morning. Groggily he stirred and dressed. It was late morning but he felt devoid of any feeling of need to be on time anywhere. He wasn't even hungry and left the food untouched to wander. Around mid-afternoon he was called to speak with his mother in the sewing room.
Barely presentable with an untucked shirt and unbrushed hair he arrived. Her smile was atrociously wide, beaming at him as he sat. She'd heard the news and was so happy to hear he'd been accepted in the army she said. How big he had gotten, how it seemed like only yesterday he'd been brought into the world. How much he looked like his father. He really didn't know what to say so he nodded. She kept smiling before breaking the awkward silence. She'd made him a fine cloak to take, a special one and pulling a bundle from beside her set it on the table between them. Don't take it out yet she said. It could...spoil the surprise and that his father might not approve. Beyond that she had no more explanation but produced a bound compiling of the Triumverate. He turned it around in his hands. The black leather with inverted triangle looking at him. The edges of the pages gold gilt. The copy was Matagan and she smiled as brightly as she could saying she had the copy sent for for his birthday but it had only arrived a week ago but that she hoped he would read it while he was away. Her smile faltered at the words but recovered immediately with Victor none the wiser. He gave his thanks and said he would. Carmela told him to get some food, somehow knowing he hadn't eaten. She tucked in his shirt for him and flattened out his hair as best she could before making sure he hadn't forgotten the cloak and sending him on his way.
The day passed by with barely a single thought on his mind. What was he going to do? He waited and slept. He would leave in the morning.
He was wakened, washed and clothed shortly before dawn. At the manor door his parents met him. From his father he was given a pistol and a longsword with the words that he should make the family proud and from his mother that she hoped to see him soon and stay warm on the road. I will, I promise was his response to both. Vincent was, as he had been recently, very absent.