Post by Samathael d'Nardan on Apr 20, 2011 13:51:57 GMT -5
Character played by: Timothy Olyphant
Name: Samathael d'Nardan
Title: Palace Guard
Age: 32
Race: d'Angeline
Gender: Male
Height: 6'
Home Province/Country: Namarre/Terre d'Ange
Appearance: Gruff and robust, Samathael projects an air to him that all but demands obedience. Of a middling tall height, his shoulders are wide and strong, his hips a bit wide themselves but still trim. Calves are well turned, and rich chestnut hair sits above a rather handsome face.
Personality: Samathael could be charming quite easily if he wanted to, in a quiet sort of way, not in any true attention grabbing aspect. He is the type that makes you notice him just simply by being, though he has an uncanny knack at disappearing into shadows, blending into the walls and looking inconspicuous, all aspects he learned and has put to use in the Palace Guard. Rare is the time that he implores his charm though; most often he is found stern and without a smile, a sneer seeming only a hairs breadth from curling his lip towards his nose. He is a troubled soul, but he has never put a foot wrong with his position, and he is largely applauded for his steadfastness and valor.
History: A rough childhood beheld the man Samathael d'Nardan, from the time he was birthed crying in a low shack in the backhills of Namarre. His family served a Lord who was largely uncaring of her servants; they received their pay, and care such as canals, sewage, shelter and food was up to them after their work upon the estates were completed. In the face of such neglect, the small group of servants struggled much throughout their lives, and though he was born of a loving match, Samathael grew with bitter and resentment.
He left home early on, but fourteen when he stuffed a loaf of bread and a bit of cheese in a knapsack. He kissed his mother on her tear-ridden cheek and left, never returning nor looking back, heading towards the heart of the country, the City of Elua.
For a few years Samathael earned his keep doing odd-end jobs, staying a few weeks with this person or that, spending other time curled up against a building, clutching his items to his chest as he fitfully slumbered. He grew, he filled out, and on the eve of his eighteenth birthday he showed up upon the doorstep of the Palace, having washed in a public fountain during the early morning hours while most of the City still slept. As clean as he could be, he stood with a straight back and a clear gaze, his belongings hanging off his right shoulder…
And he was promptly dismissed.
Samathael was outraged, demanded his right to serve his Crown and Country, and created such a ruckus that the guard on duties superior was called in. That man saw in Samathael a fire that the guard had missed, saw a vigor, and he invited him in promptly thereafter, ordering him a bath and a set of clothing; indeed, Samathael had been brought on as a trainee. For the next year he worked harder than he ever had before, but he had a steady shelter over his head, constant meals, and when he was formally adopted into the Palace Guard he was content. That contentment lasted only a short while before fading, and though Samathael didn't allow it to affect his guard duties, he was frequently found in the same inns who had once hired him for odd-end jobs, fighting and gambling, feeling up the serving girls. He never drank, and while some thought that odd, others worried that that made his behavior all the more.. bizarre.
A few years and a decade passed, and Samathael was approached by a cloaked figure one night, never pulling her hood back enough to let him see more than the peak of her nose, a shiny lock of currant-red hair, the sweep of ebon lashes over a pale blue eye. All glimpses, and she kept her back to the others, but the offer she laid out before Samathael was too… alluring to resist, ad he took the first sack of gold that very night. In the morning he began keeping his eye out for someone to do his new Masters bidding, and he found that someone some two weeks later in the form of a pretty former Adept, a fragile flower that she was. He approached her under the guise of a suitor, and began working at her, intoxicating her with compliments and almost-promises, the hint that he would care for her should something happen. It took some time, but he was deft at his work and before long he began slipping into the conversation things he needed done. Unsavory things… and he obtained her promise, vigorously given, that she'd do anything to help him.
Cruelly, he gave her the poison to put into the wine for the rulers. Cruelly, he bade her to do his work. Cruelly, he wiped away her tears and kissed her eyes, soothing her until she was calm, until she repeated her task to him without a waver in her voice.
He sent her on then to do his work, and he visited his Master that night, noting that it would be done soon. Two more sacks of gold followed, adding to the ones he'd already gotten, only a taste, his Master said, of what would be given to him upon completion. Samathael waited.. He waited, and he continued to work his post as Palace guard diligently and efficiently, protecting those he had just sentenced to death.