Yves

[Val Ritz]

Name: Yves

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Nation/Allegiance: Santaruz, Lycian Empire

Appearance/Description:

Yves stands a towering six feet seven inches tall, with broad shoulders and muscles to match. Hailing from what used to be the territory of Santaruz before the nationalization of Lycia, he shares the striking, deep purple-black hair of its people, worn long and tied back against his neck; however, a Caelish mother provided him with his bright blue eyes. He bears the heavy armor of a Knight of the Lycian Imperial Army, impeccably kept despite his active duty in the Etrurian conquest.

Bio/Backstory: Yves was born in the heyday of Lycian prosperity and culture. The events of the past hundred-odd years affected him little, save to serve as bedtime stories of Eliwood and Nergal, or Roy and the Demon Wyrm. From a young age he loved to run around with a long stick, waging imaginary wars against incredible odds, yet somehow always prevailing by the strength of his tree branch lance. Occasionally he would break something or fall from a particularly tall rock as Yves led his make-believe men into battle and get scolded for his trouble, but his home life was ultimately rather happy.

He barely waited to reach eighteen years of age before he packed up and left for Castle Santaruz, intent on joining up with the Marquess’ guard. As young as he was, he started as a simple footsoldier, but the boy’s skill with the spear quickly became evident. Over the course of many bandit raids and minor unrests he proved himself time and again a fearless and peerless combatant. Yves was only twenty-two when he was given his Knight’s armor and assigned to the castle guard proper. It would be remembered as the happiest day of his life. Eight years he spent in the service of Marquess Santaruz, growing stronger with training and with age.

One night on duty outside of the Marquess’ chambers, an assassin with a poisoned blade tried to stab him in the back, not knowing of the chainmail he elected to wear under his armor. Yves hadn’t even realized that it was an attack until he had turned and clocked his would-be assailant in the head with the shaft of his lance, knocking him out cold. His friends thought it absolutely hilarious, naming him the “Iron Bull of Santaruz” in their more polite moments, and the “bull in a china shop” in others.

However, after eight years of proud service, a pegasus courier from Ostia came bearing shocking news- shocking, at least, to Yves, if not the Marquess. Lycia was to be unified from a League into an Empire. With that reorganization came certain caveats. In order to protect this new Empire, the fighting men of all Lycian states were to be pooled and redistributed, with the lion’s share being transferred into what would be the Imperial Army of Lycia. With his distinguished service record, Yves was a natural choice for inclusion into this new army, and he accepted with the grace and obedience expected of a Knight.
Life in the Imperial Army base of operations in Araphen was hard; the people here seemed to grow more suspicious and hostile every day. Yves adapted, if slowly. The news of a new Bernese king affected him little. Sentiments toward Bern among most Lycians were cool at best, and Yves was no exception.

The news of the outlawing of dark and anima magic did concern him though. Despite being a Knight, and thus using a lance as a weapon, the loss of mages within the army’s forces certainly didn’t bode well for their flexibility. Yves knew better than anyone that there were few forces that could stop armored troops intent on driving pointy objects into your friends, and magic was one of them. The Church of Sanctity evoked a similarly uneasy response. He had always been an Elimine man, and this new Church didn’t sit well with him at all. However, he was a soldier, and soldiers obeyed orders.

It is the Etrurian campaign that tests his resolve the most. Yves, being heavily armored and skilled, was assigned to one of the first units sent to break through the Etrurian defensive. They were catastrophically successful. The Iron Bull of Santaruz proved his name well in the months that followed the initial strike; swords and lances broke across his armor like a rushing tide, and by the time the dust had settled, Etruria had agreed to annexation. The sight of the Church of St. Elimine burning on the night before the ceasefire would never leave Yves’ mind.

After the brief but bloody conflict, Yves requested a transfer to domestic guard services, desiring instead to return to Santaruz. He was granted the request, but not his desire. With Etruria still in upheaval, he was assigned to the peacekeeping force within the city of Aquleia itself, where he currently remains…

[Val Ritz]

(06-01-2014, 04:49 AM)Crimson Flash Wrote: Name: Yves

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Nation/Allegiance: Santaruz, Lycian Empire

Appearance/Description:

Yves stands a towering six feet seven inches tall, with broad shoulders and muscles to match. Hailing from what used to be the territory of Santaruz before the nationalization of Lycia, he shares the striking, deep purple-black hair of its people, worn long and tied back against his neck; however, a Caelish mother provided him with his bright blue eyes. He bears the heavy armor of a Knight of the Lycian Imperial Army, impeccably kept despite his active duty in the Etrurian conquest.

Bio/Backstory: Yves was born in the heyday of Lycian prosperity and culture. The events of the past hundred-odd years affected him little, save to serve as bedtime stories of Eliwood and Nergal, or Roy and the Demon Wyrm. From a young age he loved to run around with a long stick, waging imaginary wars against incredible odds, yet somehow always prevailing by the strength of his tree branch lance. Occasionally he would break something or fall from a particularly tall rock as Yves led his make-believe men into battle and get scolded for his trouble, but his home life was ultimately rather happy.

He barely waited to reach eighteen years of age before he packed up and left for Castle Santaruz, intent on joining up with the Marquess’ guard. As young as he was, he started as a simple footsoldier, but the boy’s skill with the spear quickly became evident. Over the course of many bandit raids and minor unrests he proved himself time and again a fearless and peerless combatant. Yves was only twenty-two when he was given his Knight’s armor and assigned to the castle guard proper. It would be remembered as the happiest day of his life. Eight years he spent in the service of Marquess Santaruz, growing stronger with training and with age.

One night on duty outside of the Marquess’ chambers, an assassin with a poisoned blade tried to stab him in the back, not knowing of the chainmail he elected to wear under his armor. Yves hadn’t even realized that it was an attack until he had turned and clocked his would-be assailant in the head with the shaft of his lance, knocking him out cold. His friends thought it absolutely hilarious, naming him the “Iron Bull of Santaruz” in their more polite moments, and the “bull in a china shop” in others.

However, after eight years of proud service, a pegasus courier from Ostia came bearing shocking news- shocking, at least, to Yves, if not the Marquess. Lycia was to be unified from a League into an Empire. With that reorganization came certain caveats. In order to protect this new Empire, the fighting men of all Lycian states were to be pooled and redistributed, with the lion’s share being transferred into what would be the Imperial Army of Lycia. With his distinguished service record, Yves was a natural choice for inclusion into this new army, and he accepted with the grace and obedience expected of a Knight.
Life in the Imperial Army base of operations in Araphen was hard; the people here seemed to grow more suspicious and hostile every day. Yves adapted, if slowly. The news of a new Bernese king affected him little. Sentiments toward Bern among most Lycians were cool at best, and Yves was no exception.

The news of the outlawing of dark and anima magic did concern him though. Despite being a Knight, and thus using a lance as a weapon, the loss of mages within the army’s forces certainly didn’t bode well for their flexibility. Yves knew better than anyone that there were few forces that could stop armored troops intent on driving pointy objects into your friends, and magic was one of them. The Church of Sanctity evoked a similarly uneasy response. He had always been an Elimine man, and this new Church didn’t sit well with him at all. However, he was a soldier, and soldiers obeyed orders.

It is the Etrurian campaign that tests his resolve the most. Yves, being heavily armored and skilled, was assigned to one of the first units sent to break through the Etrurian defensive. They were catastrophically successful. The Iron Bull of Santaruz proved his name well in the months that followed the initial strike; swords and lances broke across his armor like a rushing tide, and by the time the dust had settled, Etruria had agreed to annexation. The sight of the Church of St. Elimine burning on the night before the ceasefire would never leave Yves’ mind.

After the brief but bloody conflict, Yves requested a transfer to domestic guard services, desiring instead to return to Santaruz. He was granted the request, but not his desire. With Etruria still in upheaval, he was assigned to the peacekeeping force within the city of Aquleia itself, where he currently remains…

UPDATE: Unfortunately, Yves' uneventful deployment on peacekeeping forces was not to last. He was assigned to a fortress in Araphen, close to the Bernese border, in accordance with a tipoff from military intelligence that a resistance force would try to storm the castle. The intel was correct, but the battle was far bloodier than it had any right to be. Yves was roped into the pursuing forces sent after the routed resistance fighters--and walked straight out into a group of highly-trained rebel irregulars. They escaped from him (and Nichol, a happenstance battlefield companion), which left him to limp his way back to the fortress and enjoy the Lycian victory.

It took the better part of a month for Yves to recover from the injuries he incurred during that one skirmish. Despite a few moments of tactical intelligence, his performance during the battle ensured that he had little chance of being given a command. A day before the medics cleared him from active duty, Yves picked himself up, took his armor, his spear, and a week's worth of supplies, and headed north, hoping to make it to Sacae  and... well, do something with himself. Travel was slow; he walked by night and slept during the day, keeping as low a profile as possible until he was past Tuscana and over the river.

Now, the battered and somewhat more bearded Bull is somewhere along the northern border, picking his way through the mountains. He's picked up use of the axe in the three months since the battle, mostly as a survival tool. His armor's lost nearly all of its gold trim and a decent bit of the red lacquer, giving him an odd, rusty sort of appearance despite the rigorous oiling he's kept up. His sense of purpose is in worse shape. Serving as a knight is really all he's ever known. Now that he's out on his own and a deserter, Yves has no clue what he should do besides just survive.