Post by Steinerman on Feb 23, 2011 1:03:16 GMT -5
Name: Francis Larent (generally goes by Larent)
Alias:
Blue-eyed devil.
The Phoenix
Pointy-eared punk (though generally this term is reserved for use by his partner)
Age: 242
Gender: Male
Nationality: Allondell
Appearance: Francis is not your typical Elf by any meaning of the word. He stands at the unimpressive (for Elves) height of five feet, eleven inches. And from there, he only continues to defy expectations. Unlike most Elves, he forgoes the long, flowing hair. His murky brown hair is cut to just a little longer than a buzz, allowing his highly pointed ears free range without encumberment from lengthy hair.
Francis’ oval face is quite handsome, albeit in a somewhat weathered fashion. It is supplemented by full lips and soft brown eyebrows that arch over his distinctive eyes, their irises are a handsome, deep sparkling blue in color. His cheekbones are high, his cheeks a little on the gaunt side but by no means underfed. Facial hair is absent, barring a small patch of stubble at the point of his chin in seeming mockery of a full goatee. His teeth are pale-white and quite healthy, his mouth gives the impression of rarely smiling, seeming more at home with a look of concentration.
His arms are a little on the thin side, but have an impression of soft, gentle strength to them. His fingers are long and delicate, the nails immaculate and well cared for. His palms are hard and calloused, well used to solid exercise. A simple black ink tattoo of a coiled, wingless dragon adorns his left shoulder. It is delicately drawn, with a spot of deep blue color reserved for the tattoo’s eyes.
His handsome, well-tanned body supports the theory of regular exercise. While by no means a pro wrestler or anything of that sort, His thin 168 pound frame is most definitely muscled and sinewy. This adds to his good looks, however, allowing Francis a body most women would swoon over at the first glance.
His legs are full, definitely used to running and again, healthy exercise. His feet have solid, supportive arches. His toes are a little odd, skewed slightly to the left or right in a haphazard appearance, though they do not affect his graceful posture.
Attire: Francis’ favorite attire, oddly enough, is a full-on business suit. Perfectly tailored to fit his handsome frame. Black leather shoes of the finest quality, cotton socks and lengthy black silken slacks cloth his legs and feet. A brown leather belt from one of Allondell’s best clothing designers secures the slacks to his waist, its clasp is made of sterling silver and is circular in shape. His shirt is made of silk, it is a stark white in color. It has twelve grey metallic buttons (eight for the front of the shirt, two for each immaculate cuff), long sleeves and a stiff collar. An expensive looking solid-grey tie fits under the collar with ease. Over the shirt goes a beautiful handmade vest, black in color, with gentle gold and red highlights hidden throughout the subtle patterns. It is made of the softest cotton and is left to hang open. Finally a perfectly fitted black dinner jacket, black buttons, one left breast pocket.
Generally in more relaxed settings he forgoes the dinner jacket, loosens the tie and rolls up the sleeves of the shirt, though otherwise his appearance rarely changes.
On missions he wears black combat boots with heavy black laces. Padding those are well-made grey socks from a prominent Valtheran clothing company (even in combat, his taste in clothing brands shows through). Grey cotton trousers with reinforced kneepads sewn into the inside lining. A well-made combat belt with an oddly shaped holster (looks as though it should carry some sort of tube or club) secures the pants in place. His shirt is a short-sleeved grey T-shirt, over which goes a grey jacket with brass buttons.
To top it all off are a pair of designer sunglasses, which when not on his head are left to forlornly hang from the single left-breast pocket of his jacket.
Personality: Francis is a conundrum. He’s almost painfully handsome, and yet rarely takes notice of the fact. He is a calm, generally gracious man, polite and generous to those he meets. Yet at the same time he is the son of a crime syndicate and a hardened killer to boot. He is a powerful mage, but rarely relies on magic to do anything for him, preferring to do many things with his own two hands rather than with his power. In all things, he seems to be the opposite of what one would assume or think.
Such a refined Elf with his level of magical power should be with a prestigious group of other mages, maybe even the Taron Magi, that’s what most of his very-few acquaintances think of him.
He, however, prefers to spend his time with extremely violent and almost inhuman soldiers who others would consider monsters of the worst kind. His own partner is a small, vicious magical creation, and yet Francis gets along fine with the creature, forming one of the few friendships he has.
He is generally quiet around others, only opening up among friends. There, with his friends, he is charismatic, charming and reassuring, some would call him a born leader. He’s always the Elf with the plan, which he explains in a genuine, thoughtful manner, choosing his words with care. Together, he and his partner form a solid duet, he instinctively knows when to give in to something his partner suggests (for his partner is by no means stupid, and has an eerily alien way of looking at situations), and when to argue the point in his favor. Theirs is a calm, generous and brotherly friendship.
This brotherly, generous behavior extends to all of his partner’s siblings and their keepers, and most definitely his mother and mentor. But to those he doesn’t know, he is standoff-ish, though extremely polite about it. So polite, in fact, that most don’t even realize he’s being extra careful around them.
He’s an avid reader of cheap romance novels (a habit which he picked up from his partner), plays a mean game of golf, loves to drive motorcycles and takes a serious interest in the latest clothing fashions of the world. Of course, he also likes to fight. Francis Larent honestly enjoys combat, enjoys slinging fireballs and lances of crimson flame across the battlefield, and he’s blasted good at it. He has a keen tactical mind and he isn’t afraid to use it. He’s also not afraid of collateral damage.
That’s not to say he goes around blowing up schools full of children. But to think that a school full of children would stop him from completing a mission? That is most definitely not a sure thing.
Above all other things, he is driven to succeed. He gives an air of calm assurance, rarely ever seeming confused. He’ll take his time on making decisions, preferring to have as much information as possible before acting, but when the time for action comes, he does not slow or stop in his movements. He possesses a sharp mind and is business savvy in many ways, with a deep understanding of how the criminal underworld moves and works.
Possessions: Blasting Rod: This thin metal rod is about the size and width of a billy-club or combat baton like those used in Law Enforcement. It is about two feet long, with a myriad of runes carved into its surface. The runes glow with a crimson color, ending a few inches from one of the ends, where a simple leather grip has been wrapped around and secured to form a handle of sorts.
The purpose of this weapon, for that is what it is; Is to make the casting of certain spells easier for Francis. The runes upon it were carved with painstaking care and much time committed to their carving. It allows Francis to channel simple fire-magic spells (such as bolts and lances of fire) with speed and ease, without having to utter any sort of magical incantations. It makes an excellent stealth weapon for quick, bloody firefights, and greatly increases his accuracy with pinpoint skills. It also comes in handy as a steel club if he has to get close to an enemy.
Wedding Ring: A small silver ring with an expensive and beautiful diamond set into it. It sits inside a simple cloth bag, which generally resides wherever his bunk is at the time.
Old Photograph: This photograph is old and faded, showing a band of soldiers (their patches identify them as an old Mercenary band called the Shrieking Haunts). They all appear to be weary, but are smiling and brandishing their weapons with pride. Francis can be seen in the back of the picture, next to light-haired, handsome man with oddly colored eyes.
Special Abilities: Francis is a powerful mage, able to control fire and use it with ease. Having learned almost everything he could possibly discover when it comes to utilizing fire, Francis is sometimes likened to a true elemental force when unleashing his full power. He can create just about anything from a tiny lance of fire strong enough only to light a cigarette, to a roaring firestorm that can engulf entire buildings, and possibly beyond if he truly pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion.
He prides himself with being something of a long-range magical sniper, though his range is nowhere near as far as a modern high-powered rifle could reach. He can still hit targets with surprising accuracy at two hundred yards out, and against large targets he is surprisingly effective up to five hundred yards out (though of course the target must be extremely large, generally a heavy vehicle of some sort, or a building.)
Other special skills he’s learned over time include a brilliant, firework-like spell that provides a blinding light, a defense against anything with a weapon that can reach farther than he can, this spell is used to obscure Francis until he can get close enough to eliminate a target. However, this particular spell is extremely draining, and thus is rarely used.
Besides that impressive magical power is another, less flashy ability, though his partner argues it to be extremely useful. Francis is a master pilot and driver. If it has wings, engines, tires, treads, legs or rotors, he can make it dance and prance for you. His years of training have enabled him to get the most out of any transport or vehicle he comes across. Though he generally needs a few moments to familiarize himself with vehicles he doesn’t know before trusting them fully enough to pilot them with skill.
This ability does not, however, extend to animals or beasts of burden. He generally shies away from such creatures on instinct, as they do from him.
He is also a mediocre student in the Krav Maga Fighting style, which he is learning from his partner. While he is no master, he’s fast and relatively strong. The techniques he’s learned enable him to hold his own in most hand-to-hand fights, at least until his partner can move in and finish off his opponents.
In addition to these abilities, he was also raised to have a keen mind for politics and business (generally the illegal but highly profitable kind).
History: Francis Larent was born in Minervum in the year 139 P.E. To a servant girl of a powerful Elven family. As births go...it wasn’t the most ideal. His mother was a terrified young Elven girl who’d had an affair with the master of the house. Unfortunately, the Enign family wasn’t exactly your run-of-the-mill Elf family.
They were, in fact, the head of an old and powerful crime syndicate. And Francis’ mother was terrified about what would happen when the lady of the house realized whose child the servant girl was carrying.
Fortunately for Francis and his mother, the lady of the house was quite used to her husband’s indiscretions, and took it all in stride. Even going so far as to allow the girl to stay, and to raise up Francis as one of the myriad of Elven children that graced the house with their loud, rambunctious presence.
So Francis was afforded one of the most unique opportunities a child could ever have. Essentially two mothers. One, his birth mother, a simple Elven girl by the name of Tara Larent, who loved her son greatly. And the other, Lady Alice Enign of the Enign Syndicate. Oddly enough, (and fortunately, in Tara’s case) the two women found common cause in their loathing of Alice’s husband. Alice’s despisement came from her husband’s infidelity, and Tara’s from the man’s complete lack of concern for his son’s well-being.
Soon the women became great friends, and Francis was raised in a relatively happy household. Tara was adopted into the family at Alice’s behest. Lord Enign flatly refused to accept “That” particular fact, he’d viewed her as a one-time fling, and was insulted when his wife signed the papers to adopt the young girl, but could do nothing about it. And just like that, Francis became heir to one of the most powerful crime syndicates on the continent. He spent his first years growing up in a life of luxury, but taught by his birth mother to make sure and remember the feeling of doing work with his own hands. Lady Alice also approved of this mixture of their two worlds. She’d noticed his powerful magical tendencies early on, and was both intrigued and amused by the idea of an Elven mage who wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty in the mud. She theorized he would make an excellent addition to the Syndicate when he came into his full power.
It was around the time he was nearing his first century that Alice decided it was time to test the waters. She’d grown tired of her husband’s constant affairs, his vicious and backstabbing dealings with the other criminal entities (she preferred to take a more refined approach to their enterprise) and truly she was simply sick of having to share the reigns of the syndicate with the man she loathed so intensely. Discussing it amongst her advisors, among their number Francis and his mother, she decided on a plan. They all agreed that Francis was the most likely to inherit the Syndicate if anything were to happen to the current leaders, and as such would be the prime suspect in any move against Lord Enign. Alice had made sure to raise him to be a political and business minded individual. Added to that his already rising magical talents, his soft-spoken and earnest way of talking, and Larent (as the Syndicate had nicknamed him) was a dead ringer for leading the Syndicate.
So the decision was made, Lord Enign had to go, Lady Enign would take his place. But it would have to be done in such a way as to allow her to rule in safety for some time. Larent was chosen to do the deed and play scapegoat while Lady Enign consolidated power.
In a relatively simple display of power, Francis simply exploded Lord Enign’s private airship, which the man preferred to travel in whenever the need arose for him to leave Minervum and head for some other area of the Syndicate’s powerbase. In one fell swoop, Lord Enign and most of his loyal lieutenants were killed, and power passed to his “grieving” widow.
For form’s sake she ordered the murderer brought to justice, but the Syndicate was notably slow in moving on him. And Larent was able to escape the country with ease. It was a hard road he had chosen, but one that eventually would lead to control of an entire Criminal Syndicate. Some were horrified that he’d killed his father. But to Larent, the man had been a foolish boss, who’d gotten greedy and started dabbling in things that Larent had been raised to think of as unrefined and unnecessary. The man was no father of his, simply some fool who’d seduced Larent’s young and innocent mother.
So, Larent was perfectly willing to kill the man, and then spend however long it took for him to be allowed back to the Syndicate, where he would take his place next to his mother and mentor as a top lieutenant, and hopefully something more down the line. He did a stint in several Valtheran mercenary groups, meeting others, developing contacts with his soft-spoken manner. Watching with interest as the Stamarian Empire rose to the height of it’s power. And keeping in as close of contact as he could with his mother and the Syndicate.
It became apparent around 90 S.R. that their plans would have to be put on hold for a few decades, the Syndicate had to lay low and stay quiet for fear risking the Empire’s wrath. And a rash of old-guard Syndicate Lieutenants had survived the assassination, it would tear the Syndicate apart if Larent were to return and be welcomed by his Mentor.
So he stayed, blending in, joining a Valtheran Dark Ops unit, and eventually earning an assignment to be a keeper for a very unusual creature. Whom to his surprise, turned out to be his greatest (and in many ways his first) friend.
Miscellaneous: One of his favorite phrases is, “Information is ammunition.” He finds it perfectly describes his feelings on the subject of learning everything he can about opponents.
Alias:
Blue-eyed devil.
The Phoenix
Pointy-eared punk (though generally this term is reserved for use by his partner)
Age: 242
Gender: Male
Nationality: Allondell
Appearance: Francis is not your typical Elf by any meaning of the word. He stands at the unimpressive (for Elves) height of five feet, eleven inches. And from there, he only continues to defy expectations. Unlike most Elves, he forgoes the long, flowing hair. His murky brown hair is cut to just a little longer than a buzz, allowing his highly pointed ears free range without encumberment from lengthy hair.
Francis’ oval face is quite handsome, albeit in a somewhat weathered fashion. It is supplemented by full lips and soft brown eyebrows that arch over his distinctive eyes, their irises are a handsome, deep sparkling blue in color. His cheekbones are high, his cheeks a little on the gaunt side but by no means underfed. Facial hair is absent, barring a small patch of stubble at the point of his chin in seeming mockery of a full goatee. His teeth are pale-white and quite healthy, his mouth gives the impression of rarely smiling, seeming more at home with a look of concentration.
His arms are a little on the thin side, but have an impression of soft, gentle strength to them. His fingers are long and delicate, the nails immaculate and well cared for. His palms are hard and calloused, well used to solid exercise. A simple black ink tattoo of a coiled, wingless dragon adorns his left shoulder. It is delicately drawn, with a spot of deep blue color reserved for the tattoo’s eyes.
His handsome, well-tanned body supports the theory of regular exercise. While by no means a pro wrestler or anything of that sort, His thin 168 pound frame is most definitely muscled and sinewy. This adds to his good looks, however, allowing Francis a body most women would swoon over at the first glance.
His legs are full, definitely used to running and again, healthy exercise. His feet have solid, supportive arches. His toes are a little odd, skewed slightly to the left or right in a haphazard appearance, though they do not affect his graceful posture.
Attire: Francis’ favorite attire, oddly enough, is a full-on business suit. Perfectly tailored to fit his handsome frame. Black leather shoes of the finest quality, cotton socks and lengthy black silken slacks cloth his legs and feet. A brown leather belt from one of Allondell’s best clothing designers secures the slacks to his waist, its clasp is made of sterling silver and is circular in shape. His shirt is made of silk, it is a stark white in color. It has twelve grey metallic buttons (eight for the front of the shirt, two for each immaculate cuff), long sleeves and a stiff collar. An expensive looking solid-grey tie fits under the collar with ease. Over the shirt goes a beautiful handmade vest, black in color, with gentle gold and red highlights hidden throughout the subtle patterns. It is made of the softest cotton and is left to hang open. Finally a perfectly fitted black dinner jacket, black buttons, one left breast pocket.
Generally in more relaxed settings he forgoes the dinner jacket, loosens the tie and rolls up the sleeves of the shirt, though otherwise his appearance rarely changes.
On missions he wears black combat boots with heavy black laces. Padding those are well-made grey socks from a prominent Valtheran clothing company (even in combat, his taste in clothing brands shows through). Grey cotton trousers with reinforced kneepads sewn into the inside lining. A well-made combat belt with an oddly shaped holster (looks as though it should carry some sort of tube or club) secures the pants in place. His shirt is a short-sleeved grey T-shirt, over which goes a grey jacket with brass buttons.
To top it all off are a pair of designer sunglasses, which when not on his head are left to forlornly hang from the single left-breast pocket of his jacket.
Personality: Francis is a conundrum. He’s almost painfully handsome, and yet rarely takes notice of the fact. He is a calm, generally gracious man, polite and generous to those he meets. Yet at the same time he is the son of a crime syndicate and a hardened killer to boot. He is a powerful mage, but rarely relies on magic to do anything for him, preferring to do many things with his own two hands rather than with his power. In all things, he seems to be the opposite of what one would assume or think.
Such a refined Elf with his level of magical power should be with a prestigious group of other mages, maybe even the Taron Magi, that’s what most of his very-few acquaintances think of him.
He, however, prefers to spend his time with extremely violent and almost inhuman soldiers who others would consider monsters of the worst kind. His own partner is a small, vicious magical creation, and yet Francis gets along fine with the creature, forming one of the few friendships he has.
He is generally quiet around others, only opening up among friends. There, with his friends, he is charismatic, charming and reassuring, some would call him a born leader. He’s always the Elf with the plan, which he explains in a genuine, thoughtful manner, choosing his words with care. Together, he and his partner form a solid duet, he instinctively knows when to give in to something his partner suggests (for his partner is by no means stupid, and has an eerily alien way of looking at situations), and when to argue the point in his favor. Theirs is a calm, generous and brotherly friendship.
This brotherly, generous behavior extends to all of his partner’s siblings and their keepers, and most definitely his mother and mentor. But to those he doesn’t know, he is standoff-ish, though extremely polite about it. So polite, in fact, that most don’t even realize he’s being extra careful around them.
He’s an avid reader of cheap romance novels (a habit which he picked up from his partner), plays a mean game of golf, loves to drive motorcycles and takes a serious interest in the latest clothing fashions of the world. Of course, he also likes to fight. Francis Larent honestly enjoys combat, enjoys slinging fireballs and lances of crimson flame across the battlefield, and he’s blasted good at it. He has a keen tactical mind and he isn’t afraid to use it. He’s also not afraid of collateral damage.
That’s not to say he goes around blowing up schools full of children. But to think that a school full of children would stop him from completing a mission? That is most definitely not a sure thing.
Above all other things, he is driven to succeed. He gives an air of calm assurance, rarely ever seeming confused. He’ll take his time on making decisions, preferring to have as much information as possible before acting, but when the time for action comes, he does not slow or stop in his movements. He possesses a sharp mind and is business savvy in many ways, with a deep understanding of how the criminal underworld moves and works.
Possessions: Blasting Rod: This thin metal rod is about the size and width of a billy-club or combat baton like those used in Law Enforcement. It is about two feet long, with a myriad of runes carved into its surface. The runes glow with a crimson color, ending a few inches from one of the ends, where a simple leather grip has been wrapped around and secured to form a handle of sorts.
The purpose of this weapon, for that is what it is; Is to make the casting of certain spells easier for Francis. The runes upon it were carved with painstaking care and much time committed to their carving. It allows Francis to channel simple fire-magic spells (such as bolts and lances of fire) with speed and ease, without having to utter any sort of magical incantations. It makes an excellent stealth weapon for quick, bloody firefights, and greatly increases his accuracy with pinpoint skills. It also comes in handy as a steel club if he has to get close to an enemy.
Wedding Ring: A small silver ring with an expensive and beautiful diamond set into it. It sits inside a simple cloth bag, which generally resides wherever his bunk is at the time.
Old Photograph: This photograph is old and faded, showing a band of soldiers (their patches identify them as an old Mercenary band called the Shrieking Haunts). They all appear to be weary, but are smiling and brandishing their weapons with pride. Francis can be seen in the back of the picture, next to light-haired, handsome man with oddly colored eyes.
Special Abilities: Francis is a powerful mage, able to control fire and use it with ease. Having learned almost everything he could possibly discover when it comes to utilizing fire, Francis is sometimes likened to a true elemental force when unleashing his full power. He can create just about anything from a tiny lance of fire strong enough only to light a cigarette, to a roaring firestorm that can engulf entire buildings, and possibly beyond if he truly pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion.
He prides himself with being something of a long-range magical sniper, though his range is nowhere near as far as a modern high-powered rifle could reach. He can still hit targets with surprising accuracy at two hundred yards out, and against large targets he is surprisingly effective up to five hundred yards out (though of course the target must be extremely large, generally a heavy vehicle of some sort, or a building.)
Other special skills he’s learned over time include a brilliant, firework-like spell that provides a blinding light, a defense against anything with a weapon that can reach farther than he can, this spell is used to obscure Francis until he can get close enough to eliminate a target. However, this particular spell is extremely draining, and thus is rarely used.
Besides that impressive magical power is another, less flashy ability, though his partner argues it to be extremely useful. Francis is a master pilot and driver. If it has wings, engines, tires, treads, legs or rotors, he can make it dance and prance for you. His years of training have enabled him to get the most out of any transport or vehicle he comes across. Though he generally needs a few moments to familiarize himself with vehicles he doesn’t know before trusting them fully enough to pilot them with skill.
This ability does not, however, extend to animals or beasts of burden. He generally shies away from such creatures on instinct, as they do from him.
He is also a mediocre student in the Krav Maga Fighting style, which he is learning from his partner. While he is no master, he’s fast and relatively strong. The techniques he’s learned enable him to hold his own in most hand-to-hand fights, at least until his partner can move in and finish off his opponents.
In addition to these abilities, he was also raised to have a keen mind for politics and business (generally the illegal but highly profitable kind).
History: Francis Larent was born in Minervum in the year 139 P.E. To a servant girl of a powerful Elven family. As births go...it wasn’t the most ideal. His mother was a terrified young Elven girl who’d had an affair with the master of the house. Unfortunately, the Enign family wasn’t exactly your run-of-the-mill Elf family.
They were, in fact, the head of an old and powerful crime syndicate. And Francis’ mother was terrified about what would happen when the lady of the house realized whose child the servant girl was carrying.
Fortunately for Francis and his mother, the lady of the house was quite used to her husband’s indiscretions, and took it all in stride. Even going so far as to allow the girl to stay, and to raise up Francis as one of the myriad of Elven children that graced the house with their loud, rambunctious presence.
So Francis was afforded one of the most unique opportunities a child could ever have. Essentially two mothers. One, his birth mother, a simple Elven girl by the name of Tara Larent, who loved her son greatly. And the other, Lady Alice Enign of the Enign Syndicate. Oddly enough, (and fortunately, in Tara’s case) the two women found common cause in their loathing of Alice’s husband. Alice’s despisement came from her husband’s infidelity, and Tara’s from the man’s complete lack of concern for his son’s well-being.
Soon the women became great friends, and Francis was raised in a relatively happy household. Tara was adopted into the family at Alice’s behest. Lord Enign flatly refused to accept “That” particular fact, he’d viewed her as a one-time fling, and was insulted when his wife signed the papers to adopt the young girl, but could do nothing about it. And just like that, Francis became heir to one of the most powerful crime syndicates on the continent. He spent his first years growing up in a life of luxury, but taught by his birth mother to make sure and remember the feeling of doing work with his own hands. Lady Alice also approved of this mixture of their two worlds. She’d noticed his powerful magical tendencies early on, and was both intrigued and amused by the idea of an Elven mage who wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty in the mud. She theorized he would make an excellent addition to the Syndicate when he came into his full power.
It was around the time he was nearing his first century that Alice decided it was time to test the waters. She’d grown tired of her husband’s constant affairs, his vicious and backstabbing dealings with the other criminal entities (she preferred to take a more refined approach to their enterprise) and truly she was simply sick of having to share the reigns of the syndicate with the man she loathed so intensely. Discussing it amongst her advisors, among their number Francis and his mother, she decided on a plan. They all agreed that Francis was the most likely to inherit the Syndicate if anything were to happen to the current leaders, and as such would be the prime suspect in any move against Lord Enign. Alice had made sure to raise him to be a political and business minded individual. Added to that his already rising magical talents, his soft-spoken and earnest way of talking, and Larent (as the Syndicate had nicknamed him) was a dead ringer for leading the Syndicate.
So the decision was made, Lord Enign had to go, Lady Enign would take his place. But it would have to be done in such a way as to allow her to rule in safety for some time. Larent was chosen to do the deed and play scapegoat while Lady Enign consolidated power.
In a relatively simple display of power, Francis simply exploded Lord Enign’s private airship, which the man preferred to travel in whenever the need arose for him to leave Minervum and head for some other area of the Syndicate’s powerbase. In one fell swoop, Lord Enign and most of his loyal lieutenants were killed, and power passed to his “grieving” widow.
For form’s sake she ordered the murderer brought to justice, but the Syndicate was notably slow in moving on him. And Larent was able to escape the country with ease. It was a hard road he had chosen, but one that eventually would lead to control of an entire Criminal Syndicate. Some were horrified that he’d killed his father. But to Larent, the man had been a foolish boss, who’d gotten greedy and started dabbling in things that Larent had been raised to think of as unrefined and unnecessary. The man was no father of his, simply some fool who’d seduced Larent’s young and innocent mother.
So, Larent was perfectly willing to kill the man, and then spend however long it took for him to be allowed back to the Syndicate, where he would take his place next to his mother and mentor as a top lieutenant, and hopefully something more down the line. He did a stint in several Valtheran mercenary groups, meeting others, developing contacts with his soft-spoken manner. Watching with interest as the Stamarian Empire rose to the height of it’s power. And keeping in as close of contact as he could with his mother and the Syndicate.
It became apparent around 90 S.R. that their plans would have to be put on hold for a few decades, the Syndicate had to lay low and stay quiet for fear risking the Empire’s wrath. And a rash of old-guard Syndicate Lieutenants had survived the assassination, it would tear the Syndicate apart if Larent were to return and be welcomed by his Mentor.
So he stayed, blending in, joining a Valtheran Dark Ops unit, and eventually earning an assignment to be a keeper for a very unusual creature. Whom to his surprise, turned out to be his greatest (and in many ways his first) friend.
Miscellaneous: One of his favorite phrases is, “Information is ammunition.” He finds it perfectly describes his feelings on the subject of learning everything he can about opponents.