Age: 35, on game start
Birthday: 12th November, 205
Home Province: The Vandermark
Played By: Craig Parker
Kieran is of the mind that anyone, no matter how low their status can make an impact on the world, and having an eye for talent, is quick to put someone to use. He is a calm and methodical man in conduct; articulate and manipulative; but he cares very little about anyone or anything, he does what he can, because it benefits him.
Being social isn't one of his priorities, he meets and greets those he needs to, and relishes the company of few. He is very solitary and generally keeps to himself unless he is required. His mystery is often cause for many to keep him at a distance, but is also reason for the more curious to approach him.
He does not follow any of the religions of Forsilvra, while he knows them he doesn't believe any of them offer anything solid enough to believe in on a whole. He prefers to live how he wants to live, and to not be forced down certain paths of principal by a list of rules.
Kieran purveys very little of his interests to others, but he loves music, and can play many instruments, one of the few professions he has delved deeply into outside of his professional life. He has a keen interest in history, which sometimes spills into darker, shadier areas such as the occult.
Kieran is very proud, and quick to act upon sleights against him. He sometimes gets overly attached to individuals who he would not otherwise openly admit that he cares about. His greatest tragedy is what love he actually does bear the world.
Kieran was born in 205, in the hold of Waternesse. He was abandoned at birth by his mother, who was a single parent, or so he was told. She had named him and ran. He was raised in an orphanage in Waternesse, and there he spent his infant years. Lacking the closeness of a parental figure he was very self-destructive as a boy, harsh and experimenting on what he could and couldn't do. Rules promptly made no matter to him and he was openly rebellious to authority from there on.
When he was eight, he left the grounds of the orphanage for the first time. He was lost in the forests, on the holy ground of the Old Gods for no more than a day before he was found. If they were worried about his sudden disappearance or not, he never knew, because he never did go back, not until later anyway. He met the man who set him on his course, the hooded man.
The next few years went by, and for the first time in his life he experienced the great outdoors in their vastness, and was introduced to the kingdom of Forsilvra, it's nobles, great houses and small. Time went by, nineteen years he was off the radar, yet no one would have even missed him. His teacher, the hooded man, who's true name was never to be spoken, proved no more than a mere mortal, even after all he had done for the boy he had adopted. Yet for his tutelage he was thanked until he drew his last breath in this world. He left the young Kieran behind an entourage of his friends. Friends who Kieran had grown up with for years now, those he was taught alongside with and those who he had looked up to.
In 229, when he was twenty-three, he finally chose to capatilise on some of what he had learned, he revisited the orphanage in Waternesse, and using their archives, he intended to track down his mother. Within just a couple of weeks he had hits on her location, with the help of his friends. He found her in Abain, where she promptly showed how little she truly cared, yet she remembered and apologised for it all the same. He found out the truth of his birth, the reason behind his abandonment, the reason for it all. He didn't want anything to do with the woman who bore him into this world.
In the next couple of years he made a visit to Arbrecht with some of his friends. By the time they were leaving, the plague was surging south from the hold of Ernsaw, following in their wake as they departed the province. It was now he went to Forsilvra and familarised himself with the capital, the heart of the kingdom. It wasn't long before he met a daughter of House Morely, knights in direct service to the crown. He fell for her, and she too fell in her youth and naivety to his charm. She gave him twin daughters within the year and was disowned by her lord father. Though he wasn't there for first hand news of it at that point. He frequently went back to the capital to visit, but he always tried to keep her at an emotional distance.
When the plague ran it's course at the turn of the decade, the crown announced a celebration, a great showing of peace and unity in the wake of all the suffering, every noble in the kingdom was invited. It was only right that he invite himself.
It's Just Good Business (Sample)
A single edge of blade was streaked with fresh blood, that dripped hesitantly in strips of gore. The knife raised calmly, held in a firm, confident, unwavering hand, to a cloth, which began to casually lift the redness from the steel and stain it's own surface. The room would have been silent if not for the buzz of agony that plagued the floor. He'd been ordered, no, asked, hired to do it, well his men had been, but he needed one every once in a while. He didn't need a reason for such a simple thing, success was all but guarranteed when he set off out the gate. Such a trivial thing, it bothered him not to sit there, waiting for a man to die, sure he could have made it quick and went back. But, where was the fun in that?
He slowly wiped his knife clean, deliberately taking his time as the man lay there in an ever growing pool of wet, red, life. The man was shaking, his punctured lower back giving him a prolonged exposure to death. "Why?" the man rasped. He didn't receive an answer, not even an acknowledging look. He dwelled in his pain for while longer before trying again. "Why?!" he croaked.
A monotonal voice quietly responded, "Why not?" He ponderously raised to his feet, this man wouldn't be found all the way out here. It was only a small shack out in the wilderness, beyond the city walls, a place this unfortunate bastard called home. "Who?" the man said, choking on the flow of his life's blood. His foot rolled the man over onto his wounded back, beckoning a pain-filled grunt out of the recipient as he hit his wound. His abdomen was drenched, as was the ground where he had been laying. The knife resounded against the walls in the uncomfortable silence as it returned to it's sheath. The wound began to spread across it's new canvass, the man's breathing became even more belaboured on his back. It was, satisfying to say the least.
"Time to meet your gods." The man yelped for help, as the stool was raised deftly above him. A mummer of a plea managed to escape his throat as the stool cracked across the side of his temple and shattering the protection of his left eye. Done.
205 AF: Kieran is born.
213 AF: Meets the hooded man.
229 AF: Met his mother for the first and last time.
231 AF: Plague outbreak in Ernsaw.
233 AF: Meets Rasia Morely.
234 AF: Lynesse and Ilene are born.
240 AF: Last documented case of the plague.
241 AF: Infiltrates the Forsilvra festivities.
241 AF: Game start.
Italics indicate death via the plague.
Last edited by Sam; 03-09-2013 at 08:16 AM.
everyone but us is an enemy
Approved by me too!
And I could tell you
His favorite color's green
He loves to argue
Born on the seventeenth
His sister's beautiful
He has his father's eyes
And if you ask me if I love him
Welcome to Forsilvra! Come on in! Say Hi! Wipe your feet and stay awhile
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