Hyrus [OOC + SU Thread: Rated M]
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July 10th, 2012 (07:18 AM). Edited July 11th, 2012 by CrumbledCandyWrapper.
-being tossed on the pavement-
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Why do YOU want to know? Õ__Ô
Ladamer Loure Vanhaussen III
Country of Origin:
The true look and feel of Ladamer's body is a story that many people of Raelus seem to have their own interpretation of. While some will say he's a
'seven foot tall behemoth with a fiery gaze and the strength to match'
, others refer to him as
'a skinny little con artist with a devilish grin and the wits of a bloodthirsty gremlin'
; neither of which falls close to the truth.
Ladamer stands at a dead-on 5"11', that of which makes him look much taller due to his upright posture and refined style of treading. His legs, being distinguishably taller than most of his body, give him premise over most of his peers, as he tends to have to look down on most to have any sort of communication with them. His weight is kept at a balanced and nutritionized 160 pounds, which more than likely became the backbone holding up the 'behemoth' line in most Raelus' folklore.
His eyes are noticeably slanted, which make his burnt sienna eyes appear to be downgrading anyone who passes their gaze. It is also complemented by his intimidating long white hair, that flows seemingly effortlessly about the length of his back. He keeps it lengthy and coarse, as is customary among mist of his Elf kind. While it manages to take care of itself, Ladamer spends a decent amount of time and care on his mantle, feeling inadequate should his Elfen symbol of pride be blemished or defiled in any manner.
His skin is bronzed in a flawless brass brown, which almost glistens under the morning sun, which can only be seen by those lucky enough to catch him during his morning rounds. His skin has no blemishes or imperfections. His only distinguishable features, besides his apparent medieval facade, would be the coiled birthmark on his left forearm, which starts at the elbow and makes a single loop around that stops at his wrist in a narrowed line.
His masculinity is well toned and chiseled, despite his subtle and slender mannerisms. He hones his appearance to stay in peak performance by training and swordplay on a regular basis. The agility and speed he spent most of his time obtaining pays off by bis incredible litheness and dexterity. His torso, while a little over average in length from most Elf's of his kind, is completely overshadowed by his durable calf and leg muscles, which do nothing but make his upper half seem shorter than actual size.
Ladamer wears a traditional ceremonial robe most hours of the day, the only exception being his underarmor and his traditional Elfen battle attire.
The robe he dons is worn mostly in the Raelus Palaces throne room, whenever he advises the King himself or his compatriots. The entire cloak like piece is but a single drapery, that you can throw over your shoulders and meet the collar in the middle, where a silken gold thread can be looped around a button on the other side. There are sleeves hidden on the inside, colored velvet dark with dyes and color mixtures, that Ladamer puts his arms through to conceal anything that he'd need to protect the King or use for himself. The sleeves on the outside are the same dark black, with the exception of the blood red hem of the garment, which has about a two inch line of red covering the overly long sleeves. The bottom hem of the piece has the same two inch red line and the same can be said for the hood of the robe, which limply hangs down to Ladamer's shoulder blades from underuse.
Underneath the robe, if he's seen in the palace throne room, Ladamer wears his Elfen battle armour, which has the Raelus crest over the chestplate. It is an head-to-toe piece, light and exceptionally fitting as to not interfere with his nimble quick movements. The shoes of any of his outfits consist of a pair of silk black flat shoes, breathable and very comforting on his long trips.
Given his position of power and authority he can come and go in any attire as he so pleases, granted that it adheres to Raelus' blood red and black color scheme. Therefore, during any of his other trivial leaves from the palace, he wears a long sleeved dressy like shirt, red in color with black buttons, with the cuffs of which flow out into a more open sleeve, which he hides his hands in and walks with arms folded; again to conceal weapons or items from would-be criminals. For this outfit he wears black trousers, held up with a brown leather belt and used to tuck the loose fabric of his shirt into. The shoes, being the only time in which they'd change, are the same style of comfortable flat shoes, just dyed red in color. This and his ceremonial Raelus robe are the only outfits seen by the commonfolk.
You will never find Ladamer put off of his guard, and if you found yourself so lucky as to say you did, you'd either be lying on your manhood, or telling the truth-just unable to relay the news that you did. Cunning and almost frighteningly brilliant, he enjoys his very few seconds of downtime learning and mastering many different agricultural or academic feats, be it blacksmithing or woodworking alike. A favorite thing of Ladamer's to do in his free time, if he's not entertaining the company of King Calason, would be to host miniature sparring rounds against guards of the castle that he felt may "need the extra training".
Ladamer is quiet when in thought, thoroughly cunning, and deadly with his delivery-be it attacking physically or in warfare. Due to his overly extensive hearing range and his almost gunman like eyesight, Ladamer tends to boast his talents and abilities with pride, to any and everyone willing to lend a willing ear.
In his everyday appearance, Ladamer is kind and calm. He is very generous, despite what villagers may spend their life denying. If he couldn't win over the hearts of his people today, he'd try again tomorrow with earnest, all in the namesake of his lordship.
As is customary with every advisor to the throne, Ladamer does have his fair share of doubts and plans of unrest brooding, how ever often that may be. But, due to his late grandfathers convictions and bravery, Ladamer would never think to act upon such urges of inacting phases of some "master scheme" that would disrupt the throne and threaten his Elfen kind brethren.
Instead of acting on temptation, Ladamer chooses to Muse his sorrows into song and dance, two things people can quite honestly say he's good at. No matter the case or occasion, Ladamer will always play soothing melodies and Epiphany his woes into masterful and magnificent pieces.
The King holds Ladamer's skill and ability in high regard, sending some of his most challenging problems to his Aide for the latter's own opinion. It is something Ladamer doesn't mind in the slightest, finding that most of King Calason's ailments, be it physical, trivial, or sickness alike, are more often than not quite a test of knowledge to solve himself.
Ladamer Loure Vanhaussen the III, third grandson of Sir Leviase Traener Vanhaussen. Born on October 27th, 1766 in a small village on the outskirts of Eldur. His entire Elfen family came from a long line of amazoness women and warrior men. The symbol and pride of their village, Lamapoure, is apparent in their silken white hair. Their hair is said to be a blessing of the gods themselves, granted only to the faithful and purest of their Elfen bloodline.
In 932 FC, soon after the initial foundation of Bredon, Sir Leviase Vanhaussen and his then lowly tribesmen were captured and forced into servitude under Bredon's banner. Their capture came as a peace treaty between Raelus and the latter, as a show of good faith and trust amongst the then warring territories. Under Bredon's ownership, the Lamapourean elves were sent off to pillage, seeking only death in destruction to anyone who opposed the territories rule. It was during this time Ladamer's thrice Great grandfather earned courtship with the Bredonian kind. He was allowed troops and his very own militia under the posthumously endearing title,
The One Tears Names from Faces
, due to ensuing matters of unrest against Bredonian men.
Ironically, Leviase and his newly established men usurped a coup'de'tat, attacking Bredon's campsites under the stroke of night. Leviase's men were in charge of attacking the hub of Bredonian influence, King Belethor the First. By quietly and effectively infiltrating the castle grounds, Leviase and his troops assassinated the Bredonian King, removing his face with a rusty axe before riding off in the den of night.
Months later, word spread of Lamapourean treason, and Bredon's mercenaries rode out and attacked a defenseless Leviase in his stead. It was this series of events that have Leviase his title, and managed to return his people back over to their rightful home, Raelus.
Hearing of Ladamer's family and their exploits, an impressed leader of Raelus happily accepted the family name back into Raelan recordings, even granting them royalty behind the Kings name. While not necessarily a bad end of the deal, Leviase's men still had servitude, for many generations afterward actually. Ladamer and his Lamapourean tribesmen live highly in regard in Raelus, even having enough time to stay up to par physically and religiously to the King, who treats his subjects in high regard as it is.
Ladamer spent the first 16 years of his life learning the tools of the trade. Spying, reconnaissance, negotiations and dialect, assassination and warfare techniques, all in order to successful fulfill his duties at the rightful protector to the King. The role is "granted" to the first-born son of the newest generation of Lamapourean blood. Since the people of his kind were no longer captives, but instead were hailed as royalty, Ladamer gladly assumed his position, secretly enjoying his service to the throne, and the peaceful life his people now lived under it. His relationship with King Calason has been smooth and easy, only ever having to prevent disastrous events (like assassination for example), just once, however, Ladamer is always on his toes for any newer moves of the same instance.
Ladamer is an exceptional adept at using a double-edged rapier, which the King recognizes his brutality fierce expertise in. Whenever his hands are folded, he conceals many poison tipped needs and throwing knifes, most of which leave brutally large callouses and splints on his hands, another reason for concealing them in his sleeves. His rapier is on his person whenever he leaves to foreign lands, and his throwing knives and needles accompany his person as well.
It was late afternoon one Sunday morning.
Ladamer has been awake for what seemed like days now, yet it had only been six or seven hours to count. Whatever it was about today that made everything appear to move so slowly, he didn't like it.
Probably a means of sorcery, no doubt.
the young elf thought to himself, the words stooling around in his head as he tried to place happenings with fact.
Still, despite all that'd been happening so far today, or the lack thereof rather, Ladamer found himself stuck alone in the study of Raelan Palace. There he sat, just himself a candlelight and an old Bredonian encyclopedia. Why he'd ever bothered to grab such a horrid and distasteful piece of literature, he'll never hope to reason. Still, with nothing better to do, why not have a little history lesson all to himself? Ladamer knew all to well why he'd chosen this book, however. And from the way the pages so effortlessly flew open towards the back of the hardcover, so did the book itself.
Staring back at him, in tints of yellow paper and worn black ink, was his great-grandfather.
Leviase Traener Vanhaussen. Militia leader and the greatest warhero of Lamapourean kind.
The title fit that man better the glistening iron armor he had owned, which you could tell looked simply magnificent-even in the low-light and worn pages he was being admired under.
"You were quite the man amongst men, grandfather ..." Ladamer said to himself as his fingers traced the penmanship of his late relatives posthumous naming.
Why was this slowly becoming his favorite thing to do? Why was heading down to a local eatery and rambling through stories of old with his kinsmen such a wonderous and calming pastime for the young elf?
Well, being the heir to an empire of loyal and loving Lamapourean kind definitely counted as a reason, and hearing about the man behind it all was the tiebreaker for another. Ladamer had heard the story about a thousand times. Had it been through the nasally passage of a human, it definitely would've had some misconceptions and many more lies than truth; something Ladamer would have definitely repayed with great punishment. If anybody, the story would've had to been told through the pride of a Lamapourean. Hearing it then, you'd have every last detail painted so perfectly in your mind, there'd be no need for any sort of reanactment or charade; although that would most certainly be an amusing touch.
Ladamer gave a small muffled laugh at the thought. He'd have even allowed a human the privilege of mocking his grandfather then.
I am Leviase Traener Vanhaussen, rightful aide to Raelusian Throne! In my hand is the face of true oppression! Look on with awe as I remove it from this land by the flames brewed by his injustices!
Thinking of how it might have looked and sounded, what was once a small chuckle grew into an enormous chortling fit. Ladamer began laughing so hard his gasps for breath seemed like pleads of life from anyone merely listening in.
Which was probably what started his guards on the outside into commotion. After slamming the library doors open, two gaurds came rushing in, swords and bows respectfully armed and in the ready.
The room was silent, each and every corner of it. Surely what the guards heard weren't the makings of an attack on their Lamapourean vanguard? What would King Calason do should he hear of this? He'd have their heads on staves for it, worse yet for the whole capital to observe in shock. They'd have to face their punishment, though. Ladamer was missing, and all the guards could hope for in the end was that Calason showed mercy on their--
"...May I assist you two, gentleman?" a voice called as they'd emerged from behind a long bookcase.
"L-Lord Vanhaussen!" the first of the two armoured humans called out in relief.
Showing no sign of understanding, Ladamer simply tilted his head in confusion as the guards both removed their head visors to observe the King's Aide. "...Yes? Was something ailing you, my friends?" he asked after a moment.
"We...we thought we heard screams ... Sounded as if someone was in pain..." the second man explained.
Ladamer, while not conveying it, had much disdain towards the two daunting figures in front of him.
My laughter is similar to pained screams?
Ladamer thought concealing his scowl with zeal.
He moved his arms into the outside sleeves of his ceremonial robe and headed towards the door, gesturing his companions out of it. "Well I assure you there's nothing of the sort going on in here, gentlemen. Now, if you have no further business..."
The guards passed each other confused looks at Ladamer's calm tone, but without any other word, exited the room and heard the door click shut behind them. Ladamer simply walked back over to his grandfather's visage, and sat back down in front of it.
My laughter doesn't sound like dying does it?...
His pointed ears are concealed behind his hair, blocked out by sunlight and making them slightly darker because of it.
A Knight sent out by request of King Calason.
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