Post by Denis de Trevalion on Jun 25, 2007 18:14:03 GMT -5
Name: Denis de Trevalion (Pronounced deny)
Age: 18
Height: 6'1
Race: D'Angeline (Azallese)
Home Province: Azzalle
Gender: Male
Appearance: Handsome as all his kin are, Denis boasts nothing special as far as appearance other then being a fairly handsome young man. His brown hair is cropped short and betrays only the slightest hint of blond during the summer. His eyes are a summer blue/green/grey, all at once dark and mysterious as well as light an full of mirth. Tall at 6'1, his form is muscular now from his training in arms and ridding.
History: Born in the lap of luxury, Denis has never wanted for anything...at least he shouldn't have. Son of the Comte Claude de Fourcay and Comtesse Avril de Fourcay and cousin to royal kin, Denis' life had always been surrounded by riches and court. If he was the eldest or only it would have been he that took the title of Comte, but his older sister Tempeste was given the title instead. As a boy Denis was jaded, and all the riches and gifts could not sate the jealousy or imaturity. He was raised some what separated from his family as his parents saw his spoiled nature and didn't know how to quell it. Fostered at his mother's family's estate for a few years, where soon his name became synonymous with foolish antics, pranks, and debauchery; it was obvious that Denis had a mind for rebellion. His only distraction seeming to keep him out of trouble are his horses. Two mares he has been breeding as well as a gelding he considers his best friend.
Having been fostered at his aunt and uncle's, his acting up had caused them to send him home. It was unfortunately soon afterwards his parents grew ill, and though Denis some how remained unscathed, his parents and one staff member perished. Denis was left even more angst ridden to the world, drinking often.
After the plague that claimed his sister disapated in the City, Denis ventured home to burry the rest of his kin at their family's plot. It was there that he hired tutors. In the few months that Denis was in Fourcay Estate, he began riding more, training in swords, staff, and cross bow. He also spent time with a history professor from Siovale, and learnt about war, battle tactics and infantry drills. Anything he could do to fill his time and become the now Comte de Fourcay.
The plague took a massive tole on Denis' soul and though still a happy person, the toils of youth have warn and have given way to the steely and rough man. Now that he has no one left of his family, and the added burden of the title he had always pined for, he has come to find himself haunted by thoughts of his youth. And though by breath alive, in dreams he feels dead.
He returns to the City an older, wiser person in search of his hearts desires and an attempt to become alive once more.