[Multiverse][Advanced]Prince William of Esoria

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[Multiverse][Advanced]Prince William of Esoria KYVa9kK

[Multiverse][Advanced]Prince William of Esoria Zek5Etf

Character Name: Prince William Percival Leonidas of Esoria - “Leon”
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Universe: Star Catchers
Canon or Original: Original

Appearance:

[Multiverse][Advanced]Prince William of Esoria CSLVVQ3

Leon has eyes the color of seafoam, of blue Zircon, of turquoise mined from the Falling Stars, the color so precious and unique that from the day he was born their color was compared to nothing less than the most breathtaking of natural wonders - of stones or gems of the sacred mountains, else the most beautiful vistas seen only in works of art by most people of his home city. They hoped his siblings would have eyes just the same shade, but their greens were darker else grayer, and so Leon’s remained a stark, beautiful mutation yet unseen in his family tree. From a young age he was encouraged to meet the eyes of everyone who gazed upon him, to both spread word of his attributes and to demonstrate his willingness to meet any challenge that came his way - as was expected of him as the third in line for the Esorian throne. As he grew from cherub-faced toddler into childhood and childhood into adolescence, his other features cleared as his bone structure became more apparent, and then some admirers were no longer just looking at his eyes; like his mother’s, his face was quite symmetrical, and, from his father’s side, his jawline was pleasantly strong but not overpowering; his cheekbones noticeable but not stark; his nose straight and complementary, and his complexion - after the trials of early adolescence - was without blemishes. He was handsome, despite the fact that he hardly ever smiled - or, maybe, because of it.

He wore his sandy blonde hair longer than his father ever had, his bangs brushing his eyes and hair styled with a part on the left of center, back following the natural line but longer by nearly two inches - a style that had come to their city when he was fifteen and one his mother adored on him, and so he had kept even after she had passed.

From trials and training, his lithe body was fit and filled out by lean muscles made not from lifting heavy loads, but from practicing with sword and shield, from running drills, from pacing with horses and staying active for nearly half his every day. His pale skin was sunkissed to his waist from where he would occasionally shed his shirt with the other trainees during practice or when cooling off in the small lake after a particularly tiring exercise. His hands are calloused from time spent learning various weapons - both tools of war and tools of diplomacy - but the hardened skin was softer than expected due to regular application of potions meant to moisturize dry skin.

Personality:
Leon’s serious nature is predispositioned to brooding; while as a child he would laugh and play with the children his own age, as he grew into adolescence his laughter became scarce, even when he was amused - though whether that was due to the frequent reminders by his caretakers about the severity of his position (with great power comes great responsibility), or his mother’s illness, or revelations had during his thirteenth solstice, was uncertain, but even at the prodding of his siblings or his parents, he never quite seemed to cheer up completely. However, while he was serious and most often kept his thoughts to himself, Leon was kind, and never stopped being kind, even as some quiet form of severe determination grew within him.

When the trials started for him and he was allowed to venture forth into the world nearly on his own, his propensity for independent thought and action was forefront; he would watch intently, then perform the task at his best, quietly requesting honest feedback and quickly fixing his technique in response to his Trialmasters; however, no matter how kind he was, he was quick to quit a trial if he learned the master would not honestly critique him and seek out a competitor in that field in an attempt to best learn what he required.

He appreciated the other kids within his year, but never openly trusted any of them with any truly personal information. He had a best friend, but even to Edward he did not share his plan to catch the star, despite Edward following him from trial to trial. All but the last.

Leon’s first response in most situations is silence. He always thought things through before acting, whether enraged or saddened - it was just within him to think first, to consider his actions and their consequences and reflect on a course of action, or strive to understand - to truly understand - before acting on anything.

Personality bullets:

Any Unique Abilities/Skills: Willpower; passed down through his family for generations, Willpower is a mix of Mind and Spirit trait that allow control (of objects or people) based solely through the power of their conviction. This is most often used to force someone to speak truthfully, but can be used for darker purposes… The court elite and high judges know of this ability, and it is often used in the highest courts and most important cases to check the validity of a statement, or to simply force the accused to tell the truth. However, in the old days… during times of war, it could be used to perform true magic.

History: Redacted

Other Noteworthy Facts: Raised within his background and determined in his need to become a star catcher, Leon acquired the following traits:

Dexterity: from training with the Guard; his reactions are second nature and without hesitation, his muscles fit and agile to meet whatever challenge has ahead of him.
Swords, Shields, Daggers - training with the Guard has taught him how to adequately use these tools.
Mending: A short stint Trialing with menders, tanners, and cloth-crafters has taught him how to repair cloth and mend leather.
Horsemanship: Trials with horseback riding and husbandry has taught him how to approach and ride horses at various speeds and through various landscapes; he can care for the beast and knows what is needed to keep it healthy and fit.
Wisdom: While lacking in personal life experience, Trials spent in the libraries of his city taking further studies in history and philosophy has given him a varied wealth of experience to draw from.
Endurance: Trials with the Guard and with messengers have given him high endurance and an ability to jog for long distances without tiring overmuch.
Instrument - Lute: His mother loved the piano; it was the first skill he learned and had performed for her often; it was rumored he even sang, but those rumors have not been proven and his siblings refuse to answer.
Hunting and Foraging: from a Tracker/Trapper Trial (hard won), Leon stayed in the wilderness for six months, learning how to live off the land, how to track and hunt, how to forage and make camp.
Perception: Personality trait; having been encouraged to look at people, and around people, and trained during home lessons how to read people, Leon has high interpersonal perception and was trialed to train his situational perception.

Universe Specific Information: Star Catchers - HC Event

Storyline Specific Information:

Star Catchers wrote:: It was nearing their time. They had been through the trials, had learned all they could, and had decided upon their future professions; now all they needed to become full-fledged Adults, equal to any other in Esoria, was to reach the summit of Mount Everlast before midnight two days from now. If they were in place when the Meteor Shower reached its maximum, took in the light, and returned, their adolescence concludes. For most, observing the shooting stars was the final step; upon seeing its majesty after an arduous climb, they could bow out and return home, their trials complete, and take their place as full-fledged members of their community, taking on official apprenticeships or entering journeyman status in some regards, else jumping both feet into their career. But for some, for those young people who wished to make a difference in their world, there was an additional task, one that would automatically set them apart, separating them from whatever their birth, their hometowns, their families, their circumstances were holding them back from attaining, whether it be induction to higher education, to elite facilities, to the audience of a person of Power - this additional trial would put them on the fast path to a life free of glass ceilings.

For these few, the meteor shower is only the beginning. From the mountain top they need to track the path of a falling star and follow it to its landing site, obtain the star fragment, return to the capital and present it to the King. Only then, and for only up to five, and only to those who are present at the ceremony and whose presence throughout the trial is vouched for by the others, will they receive the tattoo, ring, and pendant that will open doors for them for the rest of their lives, and to only those five will the King grant a Wish - a wish that could erase their pasts or open new doors for their future. A wish that could provide funds for their future, could wave fees for entrance to their college or guild of choice, could make or bend the very law of the land, should their argument for such a thing be solid.

The quest is dangerous and difficult. Every year young men and women go forth, and maybe one group in ten returns with the star fragment - one group every ten years. The others return without the star and start their lives as they would have before, else they do not come back at all.

RP Sample:

Starting Out:

Prince William of Esoria, third of his name, donned the blue cloak the moment, in stunned silence, he wrote Star Catcher in the line beside his title. Without a word he had replaced the pen and taken the cloak from the top of the sparse stack on the table, giving Darren Willset a long glance as he did so. Expectantly, he held out his hand to accept the other quest items and Darren, to his credit, quickly moved to oblige him, his mouth moving without sound as he gathered the pouch, the coin purse, and the pendant. Finally, hesitating the moment before applying pen to paper to record his unique symbol, the sharp featured man looked up from the vellum and asked quietly, “Are you quite decided?”

William inclined his head, his eyes locked on the servant of the Hall of Records, and the black-haired man closed his mouth, swallowed obviously, and nodded, then scratched the glyph into a secondary book of records before handing the coinpurse and pendant over. William placed the pendant around his neck, tucking it comfortably beneath the cloak’s ties without sparing attention to the attendant and slipping it down the front of his shirt, then tied both the sack and the purse to his belt and moved down to the sparse armory offered to the Star Catchers. He was the first - as he had planned - and so had the full store to choose from. Without hesitating he chose the mid-length sword and shield, eyeing Darren before the man could object to the shield and stopping any such protestations before they could form. He buckled the sword to his belt on the hip opposite his dagger and slid the shield over his shoulder beneath the cloak. In his opinion he had chosen the best weapon; part of him hoped its absence would dissuade others from the quest. With another short nod, he donned his hood, pulling it low over his face, and left Everlast Hall, watching the ground ahead of him and the feet of those who parted to let him through, carefully avoiding the chance that any of them would catch sight of his face or telltale eyes, and hoped the rumors he had spread on the road would keep curiosity at bay as he settled in at the edge of the group. There he sat and waited for the night.

He had been forced to disappear into the woods, remove the cloak, and reappear elsewhere, the attention greater than he had imagined, his curious peers inching closer and calling out to know more about him; this time he chose a more southern position at the camp, left the blue mantle off, and slept lightly until the sun had set. From then on he kept his eyes to the sky; with any luck, a particularly bright star would streak across the sky before maximum had even begun and he could leave far ahead of time, but luck was not with him. Hours passed, the torches were extinguished, and he pulled his cloak back on amidst the buzz of excitement the Star Catcher revelation caused, quickly slinging his pack overtop it in anticipation for leaving, the satisfaction of hearing his “murderer” rumor all but absent from his face as he studied the sky intently. Surely that would dissuade them. He felt more than saw someone’s approach but stayed stock still, determined to see the star before it was announced and chase it down before they could get the chance.

Darren called maximum, and then he saw it - a bright flash, the right magnitude for a meteorite to survive the fall - and immediately set out after it, his feet light on the downward sloping trail as he disappeared into the forest of Mount Everlast’s treeline. The camp was a wash of sound when he heard Darren declare the star had fallen and he picked up his pace.

He would be the first to the star, no matter what it took.

He would return it to his grandfather at whatever cost.

He would make his wish.

He moved quietly through the forest, mindful of the signs of gametrails and careful to avoid them if whenever possible. He refilled his waterskin when the opportunity presented itself, keeping hydrated and awake as he dutifully picked his way back down the mountain; as he walked he pulled out a map and drew a line outward from Mount Everlast, showing his perceived path the star had taken. That anyone ever found one of these stars was a miracle in and of itself - it could have landed anywhere within that general direction; it was little wonder that most of the winners had a Spirit affinity with them - luck would be a key factor in choosing the exact trajectory. He, however, was not born with spirit on his side, but with… He grimaced and pushed forward.

He wouldn’t stop that night.

He would not stop the following day.

He’d make camp while still within the forest, sleeping from dusk to midnight and then continuing. He had to make it there before the others - had to retrieve it before they did and make off with it before they ever knew where it was, for their own good as well as his own. It would not be a good thing to have anyone with him when he made his wish - they wouldn’t understand, and he was fairly certain his grandfather would endeavor to keep it that way.

A deep, resounding bellow gave him pause, the roar echoing through the valley. He immediately knew the cause: another star catcher had attracted the attention of a bear. He had heard such calls during his hunting trial. He swallowed, recalling the danger impressed upon him in that lesson, the earnestness of his instructor’s voice, the dead-serious look in his eye. You did not want to come across a bear. His trial master had never allowed even the entertainment of hunting down a real one - but he had learned how, in theory, to face one, just for occasions such as these. He should go back and help - … and yet he kept moving, pushing forward, traveling down the mountain, though slower this time. A second roar followed the first - whomever was fighting it was inflicting damage; another would come along to help, or… or not, but this was their choice to pursue the star, and not his obligation to assist them, Prince or no.

...he wouldn’t get there in time to help, anyway.

He winced at the next roar, but sensed the dying note in the bellow and finally relaxed, resuming original pace, though he wondered guiltily if the bear had taken anyone along with it.

The false glow of sunrise lit up the forest around him, and that was the only reason he had seen it against the branch of the tree it rested along.

A mountain lion.

He froze - not abruptly, like prey, but cautiously - as he saw it, his eyes meeting its and pausing to gauge the threat, reasoning it was doing the same thing. He straightened, making his full height known, and controlled his body so it wouldn’t flinch when it shuffled it’s paws around along the tree it lounged on. He wasn’t prey. If he exuded confidence it would know he wasn’t prey and it would leave him alone, and exuding confidence was a skill he was well trained in. The great cat broke eye contact to shift and jump down onto the forested floor, then looked at him again, stalking forward for two steps… four… and then blinked slowly at him.

He blinked slowly back, his breathing controlled, calm, and started backing up to let it pass, careful not to show it his back or move too quickly.

It growled deep in its throat.

Heart pounding, he spread out his arms, the deep blue cloak spreading out to make him look larger than he was, and kept his eyes on the cat. It growled again, he growled back - yelling would have been better, but he didn’t want to attract any more attention to himself. Go away, he thought at it, willing the message to be understood and followed.

It blinked again… then turned, and stalked away into the predawn light. He watched and waited until it had disappeared from sight and only then continued moving, catching his breath quietly and shaking off the raw nerves the encounter had created.

A mountain lion, he thought to himself, shaking off the last of it as true dawn broke. His middle name was Leonidas, which could shorten to Leon; originally he thought he’d just avoid using a name, or pick a completely random one - going by “William” was completely out of the question, but “Leon” might work. Surely his entire name wasn’t known to everyone - especially this far north of Thelline. Leon… that lion… he had acted in a way that had made him proud just then - that would’ve made Master Thorn proud.

Leon…

Leon it was.

He kept walking. With luck, he’d leave the slopes and enter the valley before midmorning. Travelling along the valley floor may take more time than traveling in a straight line, but following the mountain slopes would eat up a lot of energy. He’d go this way, trusting his original plot of the map, and meet back up with the star’s trail in a matter of days.

After dawn he paused to rest, taking his breakfast of dried fruits and cereals while sitting on the fallen log of an old tree. Later he’d catch his food, but to start he wanted to put as much distance between the others and himself as possible. He had to get the star before them. He had to claim it and disappear with it before they… what? Got their hopes up? He sighed, crunching on the filling food and considering what he actually wanted. What he wanted was that his rumors of a killer on the path with them would drive them off and make them reconsider the trial, make them find another way to make their wish come true; maybe if they caught up he could explain that to them, or help them meet that goal another way when he… gods, what did he think would happen?

He could unmake the kingdom. But he couldn’t stop - he wouldn’t stop. He’d just hope it didn’t come to having to harm them to do what he had to do.

Food finished, he cleaned up, repacked his bag, and left.

Midday came and went and he found himself finally on flat ground again.

He took a short rest, snacking on some berries he had picked up after recognizing them as edible, and checked his map, eyeing the intersection of the star’s path and trade routes near there and traced back to where he believed himself to be, using the sun, a compass, and relative time to place himself on the map. There was a road not too far from here; he’d make for that and follow it out of the forest, onto the plains, and westward to the star’s path.

He drank, finished his berries, foraged around for other on-the-go edibles, and set off again.

Dawn of the fourth day was remarkable only because he could actually see sunrise. He had finally left the thick forestlands surrounding the Falling Star mountains and reached the relatively open lands that led to the plains, deciding to camp for the last time under the cover the forest provided. He hunted for the last time, foraged, filled his waterskin to the brim and drank deeply of the stream before he left it; his map revealed that he’d meet with another waterway along the way, but you could never be too careful. He packed his things, carefully storing the cooked venison and other edibles within waxed linens so they would not leak, and paused, his hand on the Star Catcher cloak.

The road thusfar had been sparsely populated; he had gotten nods, had been able to hide himself in the hood - had even gotten well wishes from other travelers. The plainsroad, though; there would be less local traffic. There’d be intercity travelers - traders, going from farther lands. Spices, even. It could be dangerous for a normal traveler, then, as bandits and highwaymen could try to take advantage.

He threw on his pack, then put his cloak on over it, and got moving.

It had been an easy journey so far - relatively speaking. He was glad to have spent six months in the woods undergoing the training necessary to survive out here. He was nowhere near thriving, but he wasn’t suffering for it, either.

The road west was… eventful. There were far more single-family or single-traders than he thought, and some of them were nosy. He was polite, but kept his hood up and his face in shadow despite the obvious attempts for the passersby to see him better; he doubted anyone this far out would recognize him, but he knew from experience that someone was bound to mention his eyes and he didn’t need that specific piece of information spreading and leading anything back to him. Word travels fast and those kinds of words flying about were dangerous.

He had to make some quick escapes, practically dodging friendly middle-aged women who wanted to “get a better look” at him, stepping quickly backwards from the shorter of them who got close to peer up at him. Some would laugh and call him shy and he was eager to play off of that angle, wish them a good day and hurry off. The more morbid of the travelers were ones that he actually appreciated more - he hoped they’d scare a few of the others off the quest.

Things were going pretty well but in few more hours and he should reach the first town. On the one hand he wanted to use the inn for a seasoned meal and the comfort of a real bed, but on the other he was pretty sure that was a stupid thing to do with so many people bound to be at an inn on the only road leading from this part of the country to the Star Fall Mountains; he was considering the pros and cons, approaching a bridge over a brook when a figure bounded from behind a tree and tried to grab him roughly.

”DM” wrote:: Did it hit?
--4
It hit! Leon is grabbed!

He immediately elbowed out, but the heavy material of the cloak stuck to his shirt’s fabric and restricted his motion and the attacker’s arms pinned his arms to him. Reeking hot breath hit his cheek and he leaned away, struggling at first, then keeping still - a sudden burst could catch the larger man off guard and he could chance an escape. “What do you want?!” he challenged.

“Your coins, of course,” another voice answered, the gruff barbarian holding him staying silent as a lithe man stepped out from behind the same tree the first had hidden behind. He was tall, middle aged, and had beady eyes and a too-thin nose and chin. He wore well-weathered clothes, but had jewelry shining on his fingers and his breast, at odds with the rest of his appearance. Highwaymen. That the people he passed on the road had not mentioned them --

“They’ll be of no use to you,” he stated confidently, “You’ll need a bill of sale - one I can deny when I survive, and if I don’t survive you will be unable to cash them in. Let me go and attempt to rob another.”

“There’s where you’re wrong, boy,” the man sneered, “Silver’s silver, worth just the same whether you’re dead or alive. Little bit of metallurgy and none’s the wiser to its origins.”

”DM” wrote:: Leon attempts to free himself!
--3
He fails

His eyes widened at the implication, the ease at which he revealed his plan - he’d done this before. Had any past Catchers reported this?! Was this part of why there had been no successes within the last decade?! He rammed his head to the side, hoping to knock the head of the muscleman behind him to distract him and break his nose with any luck, but as the back of his head hit the other’s face, the man held tighter. He fought against him, throwing his shoulders, kicking his feet out and back, towards the other’s legs, but the larger man braced and adjusted his stance easily.

“It’s no use, boy,” the other stated lazily, “My brawler regularly wins against men twice your age and thrice your experience. Give up the coins and we may let you live.”

He continued to struggle - the coins were necessary for the quest. They were the only lifeline they were afforded - the only sure way to secure any assistance in the future, and he damn well wasn’t giving them up to a highwayman --

The brute hugged him painfully and swung him around ridiculously fast, disorienting him. The thinner man approached with some small amount of swagger, unsheathing a thin dagger and flourishing it before he pulled the hood from his head with his free hand and pressed the blade to his throat. “We’ll get them off you either way, boy…” he trailed off.

”DM” wrote:: Perception Check
--5+d6=5+5=10 pass
The Highwayman recognizes him.

Leon clenched his jaw and doubled the struggle, the slow recognition creeping across the thief’s face enough to set his heart racing faster. He pressed back and kicked out, hoping to hit the man and throw the brute backwards --

”DM” wrote:: Leon attempts to kick the Highwayman!
Did it hit?
--5

Does the Highwayman fall back?
--6

Does the Brute fall back?
--1

The kick landed solidly and the skinny man staggered backwards, stumbling, the knife leaving his throat much to his relief, but the muscle behind him barely even wavered, instead tightening his hold even more. Leon could barely breathe, but he continued to struggle --

“Hold, Torvald,” the thief said slyly, straightening and slipping his blade back into his belt. “That’s no way to treat his Royal Highness.” Torvald relieved some of the pressure but held him still so his legs were off the ground. An appreciative growl hummed in the chest behind him. “Looks like our haul just got a lot more lucrative. Knock him out, it’ll be easier to transfer him. Once we collect the coins from the rest of this year’s crop we’ll write up a ransom note.”

The chest behind him chuckled, sending a fresh wave of reeking breath, and he was dropped to the ground as Torvald reached into his belt. He threw himself forward, once again trying to get away --

”DM” wrote:: Did it work?
--2

But Torvald was fast. A disgusting rag covered his mouth and he held his breath for as long as he could, but a swift hit to his back knocked the air out of him. “There you go,” the thief said, “Just sleep for a bit. We’ll play again later.”

It went dark.