Post by Steinerman on Apr 17, 2010 1:52:18 GMT -5
Name: Michael Saint
Alias: Knight-Commander of the Blade
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Nationality: Zailleon
Appearance: Michael is a heavily built man, adding the words “Tall” And “Massive” would be useful as well, in his case. “Square” would be another good word, easily describing his chiseled and blocky features. He stands at the impressive height of Six feet, five inches and weighs two-hundred thirty-three pounds. His skin is the light-brown of a man who sees sun on a regular basis. His hair is dark brown, bordering on black, it is cut short enough to ensure that it never hinders his vision. His eyebrows are gently shaped, his eyes appear no different than thousands of others in shape, the irises are the color of dark chocolate.
His nose is crooked, once broken and never healed correctly. His cheeks are full, but not fat or flabby. His lips are thin, (considering a man so big) and are almost always pursed together in a determined fashion. His jaw and chin are square, a small scar can be found on the lower left area of his chin, and the bone underneath has the look of being damaged in a battle long ago. His is a clean-shaven face, and handsome in it’s own way. Though he’d never be accused of being drop-dead gorgeous, he does carry with him a certain quality, an air of calm that adds to his mediocre looks.
His chest is broad and heavily muscled, covered with battlescars and old wounds so numerous that in certain places, it’s hard to tell exactly what is skin and what is scar tissue. His arms are long and powerful, giving the impression of immense strength, his fingers are surprisingly delicate for a man his size, and seem more fit for a musician than a warrior.
His legs are once again, heavily muscled and bear the look of being put to good use in combat, themselves covered (though not as thoroughly as his torso) in scars. His feet are broad and hardened with the look of being put to the test in the form of long runs and hundreds of footwork exercises.
Overall, his body is the body of a warrior who has devoted his entire life to the martial arts, and it has developed accordingly. He is well-muscled, with sinew as well, and has the look that in combat he could easily overpower an enemy with sheer force.
Attire: Michael is a warrior, and is rarely found outside of his armor. However, he also recognizes the need for something other than plate-mail.
When the occasion calls for it, Michael can appear quite dashing in his formal apparel. His feet are clothed in well-worn cloth boots. A dark, rich green in color. His socks are white and made of cotton, no visible pattern or design can be found upon them. His trousers are a brilliant white, heavily layered, yet unadorned cotton. These are secured by a leather belt dyed the color of gold. The belt clasp is made of onyx, and gleams softly when exposed to light. His shirt is a long-sleeved button-up, made of the same material as his pants and colored to match. The twelve buttons on the front of the shirt (and the buttons for the cuff-links) are onyx.
Over his shirt comes a jacket to match the rest of his outfit, again a stark and brilliant white in color. It is made of wool, and surprisingly, is button-less. The collar is made to stand tall, surrounding the back of his neck much like armor, reaching up to just below his ears. If the occasion calls for the jacket to be closed, rather than hang open, several sections of leather (carefully dyed white to match) are employed to close the opening.
Combat is where Michael is at his best, and it shows in his armor. First comes the cotton under-garments (a nondescript brown in color). These include: Socks, pants, and a short-sleeved T-shirt. Over these comes the chainmail shirt and leggings, also a coif of chainmail for his head. All of the chainmail is finely-crafted and extremely effective. Finally over that comes the heavy plate-mail. Simple steel boots of good craftsmanship protect his feet and ankles. While the rest of his legs’ protection is given over to steel greaves. Next comes the breastplate, again it is made of steel and covers both front and back. Shoulder and arm-guards protect his arms, his hands are covered by fully articulated gauntlets that allow for freedom of movement. A steel gorget protects his neck (extending from the breastplate itself) and a steel great-helm covers his head.
Over the breastplate and falling down a little ways past the waist comes a simple white surcoat made of cotton. A plain pattern made out of grey thread is worked into the center of the surcoat, the pattern is shaped like a great-sword, blade pointing downwards.
Despite its appearance, Michael’s armor is equally effective against both blades and projectile weapons, the inner surface of the armor is reinforced with a Kevlar/Mythril composite, giving it a sturdy defense against most anything the world can throw at it.
Personality: Michael’s personality is influenced heavily by his mother, whom he holds in high esteem. He is in every way a warrior, but also something of a scholar, being very well-learned and spending much of his time studying in the Great Library of Minervum. He is polite and soft-spoken, surprisingly graceful in his movements for a man so large. Much of his time is taken up with martial drills, honing his skills to the utmost.
He does not drink alcohol, nor carouse with the common soldiery. His every spare moment is spent in books, learning everything he can about the ways of war. It is due to his learning that he is one of the finest military minds in the Order of the Blade, possibly even the entire Stamarian Empire.
As a devout follower of the Empire’s religion, Michael is a very moral man. Making him a perfect fit as a senior member of the Order, considering the rigid moral code put in place by the Order’s founder. Fortunately, (or unfortunately in certain eyes) his moral code also causes him to come down heavily upon those who threaten the innocent. Most notably the Korin, for whom he has a special hatred, after seeing the aftermath of their beginning attacks upon peaceful villages.
He will always make time for those who ask it of him, no matter their station or looks. And generally can get sidetracked quite easily by other people’s problems, as he considers it his honorable duty to help others.
Possessions:
Broadsword, “Fidelis”:
Upon attaining Knighthood in the Stamarian Military, Michael received Fidelis, an enchanted blade of great power. It is classified as a XIIIa type broadsword, and as such is slightly longer than normal broadswords. The blade is made of magically-crafted steel and has a length of 48 inches, the width of the blade at it’s widest point is 2 ½ inches, this width gradually shrinks until the tip of the blade. The hilt is 14 inches long, it is made of hardened oak and is unadorned. The pommel is a simple silver colored ball of metal. The cross guard is made of simple steel and shaped like a cross. The name of the blade is inscribed onto the metal just above the cross guard, directly under the name is the inscription “Evil’s bane”.
Fidelis is of the highest quality, easily capable of matching almost all other weapons, be they enchanted or mundane. The enchantments worked into the blade were performed specially by the Temple of Light, giving the blade a curious power besides the obvious attributes of a well-crafted sword. With the mutter of a small prayer, a flame can be called forth, covering the blade in brilliant white fire. Besides setting fire to opponents unlucky enough to be wearing something flammable, and also giving the blade a hotter edge (enabling it to actually cleave through armor plating on occasion, if the blow is strong enough) the blade’s brilliant light causes all but the strongest of opponents to glance away and shield their eyes until they adjust, lest they be temporarily blinded (generally less than a minute). The light is visible for many hundreds of feet in the darkness, but is only truly blinding for roughly twenty feet around the wielder.
The wielder himself is protected from the flame and light, and can function normally even in its presence. The holy flame and light will stay as long as the wielder is in battle, up to three standard hours in length before finally guttering out and leaving only a well-crafted weapon.
Special Abilities: Michael is a master-swordsman, easily the best in the Order, barring only the new Knight-Commander of the Templar Subdivision, Alyssa Lightshield, who he has yet to test his strength against. He is also an extremely capable tactician and strategist, a well-trained commander of warriors on the battlefield.
History: Michael was born in 67 S.R. to Tania Saint, a single mother working as a barmaid in Newdam. Besides his mother, his only family was his younger brother, Thomas. Tired of what she considered to be men who acted far more like animals than human beings, Tania raised her children to be everything their father was not.
As such, Michael and Thomas were taught by their mother to be gentlemen, and as further testament to her hatred of their father, Tania also found them tutors in the martial arts, wishing to prove to herself that common children could become great men.
So from his earliest days, Michael was burdened with the responsibility of living up to and surpassing his mother’s expectations. Yet together with his brother, they aided each other through the pressure, thriving in spite of it and excelling in many areas. Their martial training continued from a young age, paid for by their mother’s hard work and theirs as they helped her tend the bar.
When they reached their mid-teens (Michael was sixteen, his brother fifteen) , their mother’s health began failing her, her body worn out from years of unending work. Both sons responded the way she’d raised them. And began to care for their mother, taking extra shifts, forsaking school to earn enough money for their mother’s mounting medical needs. Thomas took work as a runner for a roving mercenary group, carrying messages to different locations. Michael, meanwhile, took work wherever he could find it, often going on long trips to Kallagulia to scrounge up whatever work he could.
Eventually times grew difficult enough to warrant Michael signing up with the Stamarian military, where his early-life martial training served him well and he quickly shot through the ranks. From this time forth, Michael became a military man, serving the Empire well and truly in any capacity they wished, seeing much combat during his next years. From then on, he kept in touch with his family when he could, surprised by the news that his brother had taken a position as a mercenary, and even more surprised when through rumors he learned that Thomas was making quite a name for himself in that field.
And so Michael’s life continued, a rather dull affair for the most part. Though he saw his share of combat during the next decade. Dutifully sending most of his pay home to his mother, spending what little time he could with her.
And then, when he was twenty-nine, Michael (a Stamarian Knight by then) was tasked with leading a company of soldiers to investigate odd happenings on the Zailleon border, where several towns and settlements had simply ceased communication. When his unit arrived at the first village on their patrol route, they were shocked and sickened to find the townsfolk had been mercilessly slaughtered.
Michael was horrified, never before in his military career had he witnessed such brutality against innocents. Every fiber of his being screamed that what had happened was unforgivable, that there must be justice. But no justice was to be had, though they searched for many weeks in the wild, they found little sign of the attackers. Upon returning to civilization they learned that many such attacks had been carried out, by the shadowy Korin. It was upon that day, in the Temple of Light itself, that Michael knelt and swore a vow to stop the Korin, no matter the cost.
A year later, his unit and others like it had still failed to deal serious damage to the Korin. It was then that they heard news of the raid on the Order of the Blade’s Guildhall. Much like the rest of the Empire, Michael was shocked to learn that the Grand Masters of the Order had actually supplied information to the Korin in the past few years, before he’d even known the Korin were dangerous, in fact.
A Great admirer of the Order, Michael was saddened to learn that its leaders had led it so far astray. And resigned himself to the sad fact that few things in the Empire were truly pure anymore. It was then, when the daughter of the now-executed Grand Masters, Gillian Arvestus, when she was given charge of the crippled order, that Michael felt called to aid her.
With grudging permission from his superiors, he petitioned for transfer to the Order, and was almost immediately accepted by the new Grand Master, who had seen his record and recognized a capable leader. He was immediately given the position of Knight-Commander, and with his gentlemanly personality soon became fast friends with the Grand Master. Together they started the task of rebuilding the Order and making it great once again.
He currently serves as the Knight-Commander in charge of the Hospitaler subdivision of the Order, tasked with keeping the many Order convoys moving and coordinated in their efforts to combat the Empire’s enemies.
His years in the Order have been exceptionally fulfilling for Michael, who as a devout follower of The Light enjoys the moral code and bearing of the Order. Now thirty-seven years in age, he is noted as one of the best Knight-Commanders in the Order and the Grand Master’s personal confidante.
Miscellaneous: N/A
Alias: Knight-Commander of the Blade
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Nationality: Zailleon
Appearance: Michael is a heavily built man, adding the words “Tall” And “Massive” would be useful as well, in his case. “Square” would be another good word, easily describing his chiseled and blocky features. He stands at the impressive height of Six feet, five inches and weighs two-hundred thirty-three pounds. His skin is the light-brown of a man who sees sun on a regular basis. His hair is dark brown, bordering on black, it is cut short enough to ensure that it never hinders his vision. His eyebrows are gently shaped, his eyes appear no different than thousands of others in shape, the irises are the color of dark chocolate.
His nose is crooked, once broken and never healed correctly. His cheeks are full, but not fat or flabby. His lips are thin, (considering a man so big) and are almost always pursed together in a determined fashion. His jaw and chin are square, a small scar can be found on the lower left area of his chin, and the bone underneath has the look of being damaged in a battle long ago. His is a clean-shaven face, and handsome in it’s own way. Though he’d never be accused of being drop-dead gorgeous, he does carry with him a certain quality, an air of calm that adds to his mediocre looks.
His chest is broad and heavily muscled, covered with battlescars and old wounds so numerous that in certain places, it’s hard to tell exactly what is skin and what is scar tissue. His arms are long and powerful, giving the impression of immense strength, his fingers are surprisingly delicate for a man his size, and seem more fit for a musician than a warrior.
His legs are once again, heavily muscled and bear the look of being put to good use in combat, themselves covered (though not as thoroughly as his torso) in scars. His feet are broad and hardened with the look of being put to the test in the form of long runs and hundreds of footwork exercises.
Overall, his body is the body of a warrior who has devoted his entire life to the martial arts, and it has developed accordingly. He is well-muscled, with sinew as well, and has the look that in combat he could easily overpower an enemy with sheer force.
Attire: Michael is a warrior, and is rarely found outside of his armor. However, he also recognizes the need for something other than plate-mail.
When the occasion calls for it, Michael can appear quite dashing in his formal apparel. His feet are clothed in well-worn cloth boots. A dark, rich green in color. His socks are white and made of cotton, no visible pattern or design can be found upon them. His trousers are a brilliant white, heavily layered, yet unadorned cotton. These are secured by a leather belt dyed the color of gold. The belt clasp is made of onyx, and gleams softly when exposed to light. His shirt is a long-sleeved button-up, made of the same material as his pants and colored to match. The twelve buttons on the front of the shirt (and the buttons for the cuff-links) are onyx.
Over his shirt comes a jacket to match the rest of his outfit, again a stark and brilliant white in color. It is made of wool, and surprisingly, is button-less. The collar is made to stand tall, surrounding the back of his neck much like armor, reaching up to just below his ears. If the occasion calls for the jacket to be closed, rather than hang open, several sections of leather (carefully dyed white to match) are employed to close the opening.
Combat is where Michael is at his best, and it shows in his armor. First comes the cotton under-garments (a nondescript brown in color). These include: Socks, pants, and a short-sleeved T-shirt. Over these comes the chainmail shirt and leggings, also a coif of chainmail for his head. All of the chainmail is finely-crafted and extremely effective. Finally over that comes the heavy plate-mail. Simple steel boots of good craftsmanship protect his feet and ankles. While the rest of his legs’ protection is given over to steel greaves. Next comes the breastplate, again it is made of steel and covers both front and back. Shoulder and arm-guards protect his arms, his hands are covered by fully articulated gauntlets that allow for freedom of movement. A steel gorget protects his neck (extending from the breastplate itself) and a steel great-helm covers his head.
Over the breastplate and falling down a little ways past the waist comes a simple white surcoat made of cotton. A plain pattern made out of grey thread is worked into the center of the surcoat, the pattern is shaped like a great-sword, blade pointing downwards.
Despite its appearance, Michael’s armor is equally effective against both blades and projectile weapons, the inner surface of the armor is reinforced with a Kevlar/Mythril composite, giving it a sturdy defense against most anything the world can throw at it.
Personality: Michael’s personality is influenced heavily by his mother, whom he holds in high esteem. He is in every way a warrior, but also something of a scholar, being very well-learned and spending much of his time studying in the Great Library of Minervum. He is polite and soft-spoken, surprisingly graceful in his movements for a man so large. Much of his time is taken up with martial drills, honing his skills to the utmost.
He does not drink alcohol, nor carouse with the common soldiery. His every spare moment is spent in books, learning everything he can about the ways of war. It is due to his learning that he is one of the finest military minds in the Order of the Blade, possibly even the entire Stamarian Empire.
As a devout follower of the Empire’s religion, Michael is a very moral man. Making him a perfect fit as a senior member of the Order, considering the rigid moral code put in place by the Order’s founder. Fortunately, (or unfortunately in certain eyes) his moral code also causes him to come down heavily upon those who threaten the innocent. Most notably the Korin, for whom he has a special hatred, after seeing the aftermath of their beginning attacks upon peaceful villages.
He will always make time for those who ask it of him, no matter their station or looks. And generally can get sidetracked quite easily by other people’s problems, as he considers it his honorable duty to help others.
Possessions:
Broadsword, “Fidelis”:
Upon attaining Knighthood in the Stamarian Military, Michael received Fidelis, an enchanted blade of great power. It is classified as a XIIIa type broadsword, and as such is slightly longer than normal broadswords. The blade is made of magically-crafted steel and has a length of 48 inches, the width of the blade at it’s widest point is 2 ½ inches, this width gradually shrinks until the tip of the blade. The hilt is 14 inches long, it is made of hardened oak and is unadorned. The pommel is a simple silver colored ball of metal. The cross guard is made of simple steel and shaped like a cross. The name of the blade is inscribed onto the metal just above the cross guard, directly under the name is the inscription “Evil’s bane”.
Fidelis is of the highest quality, easily capable of matching almost all other weapons, be they enchanted or mundane. The enchantments worked into the blade were performed specially by the Temple of Light, giving the blade a curious power besides the obvious attributes of a well-crafted sword. With the mutter of a small prayer, a flame can be called forth, covering the blade in brilliant white fire. Besides setting fire to opponents unlucky enough to be wearing something flammable, and also giving the blade a hotter edge (enabling it to actually cleave through armor plating on occasion, if the blow is strong enough) the blade’s brilliant light causes all but the strongest of opponents to glance away and shield their eyes until they adjust, lest they be temporarily blinded (generally less than a minute). The light is visible for many hundreds of feet in the darkness, but is only truly blinding for roughly twenty feet around the wielder.
The wielder himself is protected from the flame and light, and can function normally even in its presence. The holy flame and light will stay as long as the wielder is in battle, up to three standard hours in length before finally guttering out and leaving only a well-crafted weapon.
Special Abilities: Michael is a master-swordsman, easily the best in the Order, barring only the new Knight-Commander of the Templar Subdivision, Alyssa Lightshield, who he has yet to test his strength against. He is also an extremely capable tactician and strategist, a well-trained commander of warriors on the battlefield.
History: Michael was born in 67 S.R. to Tania Saint, a single mother working as a barmaid in Newdam. Besides his mother, his only family was his younger brother, Thomas. Tired of what she considered to be men who acted far more like animals than human beings, Tania raised her children to be everything their father was not.
As such, Michael and Thomas were taught by their mother to be gentlemen, and as further testament to her hatred of their father, Tania also found them tutors in the martial arts, wishing to prove to herself that common children could become great men.
So from his earliest days, Michael was burdened with the responsibility of living up to and surpassing his mother’s expectations. Yet together with his brother, they aided each other through the pressure, thriving in spite of it and excelling in many areas. Their martial training continued from a young age, paid for by their mother’s hard work and theirs as they helped her tend the bar.
When they reached their mid-teens (Michael was sixteen, his brother fifteen) , their mother’s health began failing her, her body worn out from years of unending work. Both sons responded the way she’d raised them. And began to care for their mother, taking extra shifts, forsaking school to earn enough money for their mother’s mounting medical needs. Thomas took work as a runner for a roving mercenary group, carrying messages to different locations. Michael, meanwhile, took work wherever he could find it, often going on long trips to Kallagulia to scrounge up whatever work he could.
Eventually times grew difficult enough to warrant Michael signing up with the Stamarian military, where his early-life martial training served him well and he quickly shot through the ranks. From this time forth, Michael became a military man, serving the Empire well and truly in any capacity they wished, seeing much combat during his next years. From then on, he kept in touch with his family when he could, surprised by the news that his brother had taken a position as a mercenary, and even more surprised when through rumors he learned that Thomas was making quite a name for himself in that field.
And so Michael’s life continued, a rather dull affair for the most part. Though he saw his share of combat during the next decade. Dutifully sending most of his pay home to his mother, spending what little time he could with her.
And then, when he was twenty-nine, Michael (a Stamarian Knight by then) was tasked with leading a company of soldiers to investigate odd happenings on the Zailleon border, where several towns and settlements had simply ceased communication. When his unit arrived at the first village on their patrol route, they were shocked and sickened to find the townsfolk had been mercilessly slaughtered.
Michael was horrified, never before in his military career had he witnessed such brutality against innocents. Every fiber of his being screamed that what had happened was unforgivable, that there must be justice. But no justice was to be had, though they searched for many weeks in the wild, they found little sign of the attackers. Upon returning to civilization they learned that many such attacks had been carried out, by the shadowy Korin. It was upon that day, in the Temple of Light itself, that Michael knelt and swore a vow to stop the Korin, no matter the cost.
A year later, his unit and others like it had still failed to deal serious damage to the Korin. It was then that they heard news of the raid on the Order of the Blade’s Guildhall. Much like the rest of the Empire, Michael was shocked to learn that the Grand Masters of the Order had actually supplied information to the Korin in the past few years, before he’d even known the Korin were dangerous, in fact.
A Great admirer of the Order, Michael was saddened to learn that its leaders had led it so far astray. And resigned himself to the sad fact that few things in the Empire were truly pure anymore. It was then, when the daughter of the now-executed Grand Masters, Gillian Arvestus, when she was given charge of the crippled order, that Michael felt called to aid her.
With grudging permission from his superiors, he petitioned for transfer to the Order, and was almost immediately accepted by the new Grand Master, who had seen his record and recognized a capable leader. He was immediately given the position of Knight-Commander, and with his gentlemanly personality soon became fast friends with the Grand Master. Together they started the task of rebuilding the Order and making it great once again.
He currently serves as the Knight-Commander in charge of the Hospitaler subdivision of the Order, tasked with keeping the many Order convoys moving and coordinated in their efforts to combat the Empire’s enemies.
His years in the Order have been exceptionally fulfilling for Michael, who as a devout follower of The Light enjoys the moral code and bearing of the Order. Now thirty-seven years in age, he is noted as one of the best Knight-Commanders in the Order and the Grand Master’s personal confidante.
Miscellaneous: N/A