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it is currently season 1, the year 1449 NE. The continent of Tnarem balances on a precarious edge between survival and destruction. Wars rage between nations, fractures open in the Mete. The world as the Tnaremi people know it is dying and they are left with a choice: act or perish with it.
All of the information you need to become better acquainted with the world of Sergonia and its inhabitants can be found here. Anyone wishing to join the Ericourt will be able to find the essentials here.
High Markish Common Markish Common Mercian Common Lornesian
No, absolute and born awake
Goals & Motivation
His path has always been clear to him. From his first breath he has been groomed for the day that he will stand before the Divine Temple, the ministry and all the Kingdom as their King and sovereign and swear to uphold and protect all that is considered sacred. Tristan's motivations could be as simply put as ensuring that when the time comes when he must step into his father's shoes as Ard Ri of Dubhion, when he must become Haras to a nation, he has, by the will of the Four and his own dedication, earned what he considers a task set before him by the Four themselves.
Raised by two devout followers of the Divine Temple, it is no surprise that their first born also adheres to Templarism. Tristan's faith is a cornerstone for him, it is a comfort and a constant, it has shaped the manner in which he views the world, the reality of magic within it, other belief systems and his place in the greater narrative. If there is a point where he diverges from both the Temple and his family it is in his greater tolerance toward foreign belief systems, whether this rises from his extensive study of philosophy or is simply a facet of his personality is unknown but he is respectful, if not necessarily comfortable, with the fact other forms of belief exist in Tnarem.
Lean, with a wiry build and the curls that are emblematic of the Black, Tristan's Ormonde heritage is evident from his stature down to the darker shade of his hair. He stands on the taller side for many Dubhion men at 5'8 and possesses the same golden brown eyes as his mother in a nod to her Arden blood. The Prionnsa generally prefers to wear his hair longer, as is the fashion among the young men of the region, typically neglecting to trim it until it is well past his ears. He sports a small amount of facial hair, which is kept neatly trimmed and also offers a degree of ruggedness to his face which he vastly prefers. The Prionnsa habitually dresses in subdued tones of green and brown, often coupled with a black trouser and high boot.
Quiet and thoughtful, Tristan projects a stoicism at times that leads many to assume the young heir apparent is a churlish, brooding replica of the Ard Ri. But while he is often slow to warm to new situations and finds many of the diplomatic engagements of his position as the next in line challenging, he is nonetheless at heart a good-humored, hospitable young man who is deeply committed to the well-being of the Kingdom he is to inherit the protection of and is considered by those of his close acquaintance to be agreeable, engaging company once his reservations are overcome.
Both honorable and principled, he is not quick to forgive treachery or underhanded behavior, and will nurse betrayals until such a time as he can either seek justice or reconcile the behavior.
Academic (3) - Administration, History, Philosophy
As expected for a first born son, Tristan's scholarly pursuits have been well rounded and thorough. As such, he is well versed in everything from the sciences, mathematics, theology and geography to particular areas of specialized interest such as history and the bureaucratic intricacies involved in successfully governing a Kingdom such as Dubhion. Tristan is fluent in all three languages of the Black and also holds a degree of proficiency with the common tongue of Lornesse. A particular area of interest for him is the works of the great philosophers of Tnarem who pose the great questions regarding purpose, reason and the basis of morality. As the future Ard Ri of Dubhion, Tristan strongly believes he must be open to understanding all schools of thought, even those that are counter intuitive to his own beliefs.
Diplomatic (2) - Hunting, Horseback Riding
Born into nobility, Tristan has been enmeshed in the mechanisms of court life from a very young age. By pure virtue of being the son of the Ard Ri, he is intimately familiar with other members of House Ormonde, members of the nobility and a fair few number of the gentry (particularly those who also serve as ministers). As far as other matters of diplomacy are concerned, as a naturally reserved man and a shy boy before it, Tristan is competent enough to conduct himself as befits his position, but he is never altogether at his ease in large, unfamiliar gatherings. He is, like many of the Black, a lover of all equestrian pursuits, and enjoys both riding and hunting. Tristan is the owner of a magnificent black Dubhion Warmblood called Enbarr.
Martial (1) - No Information It is less to do with a lack of interest in all things martial than it is the simple fact that as the heir to House Ormonde, Tristan's focus from a very young age has been on his scholastic and courtly preparations in order to best serve Dubhion as a ruler. As such, his knowledge of weaponry, its uses and the handling of swords, bows and other military regalia is fleeting at best and far more theoretically than practically acquired. As a keen participant in hunts, he is most familiar at handling a bow but even this is largely reserved for recreational, courtly displays. He has some comprehension of important historical battles and other matters pertaining to battle strategy and tactics but, like his father before him, Tristan largely leaves the finer details to the elected minister of defense and their marshals.
Relationship with House
There is nothing of greater importance to Tristan than his family.
This includes both his closest and the far more distant branches of the royal line. He is prodigiously proud of the Ormonde name and what it stands for to the Kingdom of Dubhion. Born and raised with the expectations incumbent on both a first born son and the future Ard Ri of the Black, he is a steadfast, studious young man who considers their sovereign right to rule as much the blessing of the Four as the will of the people of the Kingdom itself. A quiet child growing up, Tristan struggled to overcome an inherently shy personality in order to meet the high expectations set before him by his parents. His bonds with both his mother and father are strong, if differing in nature. It is his father he turns to for wisdom and guidance in matters concerning the Kingdom, but his mother's advice is no less welcomed or sought, particularly on matters to do with his own marriage and daughters.
With his sisters, he is affectionate and caring, if slightly over protective, with his brothers and most particularly Silas, he has a fond, if occasionally fractious camaraderie. As the eldest son, Tristan considers it his responsibility to set the standard for his siblings, as both brother and the future Ard Ri and it is through this self appointed mantle of duty that he can at times be overly critical. As a father, Tristan is attentive and doting toward all his daughters, with a penchant for over indulging the whims of his youngest.
While the Prionnsa and Phrionnsa have conceived three healthy daughters, they are yet to conceive a son and future heir to the Ormonde crown, a fact that weighs heavily on Tristan's shoulders.
Tristan has a deep and abiding love for horses and rides a magnificent Dubhion warm-blood named Enbarr. The Prionnsa often champions a jockey to ride the black stallion for the Inshmor Run each year.
As much as they attempt to conceal it for fear of appearing too uncouth, particularly in the public eye, it is obvious to all that know what to look for that there is strong affection between the Prionnsa and his wife.
The Prionnsa of Dubhion was named for one of the doomed lovers in the Ostian playwright Carter Wrenscot's infamous tragedy Tristan and Felicia (Ostia)
His marriage to Líadan has been cursed by witches, making them incapable of siring a son
His marriage to Líadan has been cursed by the the Gods themselves (Dubhion)
His wife only married him in a fit of fancy that he was in fact the descendant of the Tristan spoken of in Ostian theater
He only wed his wife for the wealth and connection to her influential family and does not care for her (Ostia)
He wed his wife for love, which is why they are yet to be blessed with sons
The first child of the Ard Ri and Ard Phrionnsa of Dubhion was born after three long years of struggle and prayer in the early days of August 1426. A strong, healthy boy, Tristan had his father's dark curls and his mother's northern eyes. A thoughtful, pensive child the young Prionnsa was known to be shy around strangers and would take to hiding behind his wet nurse's skirts or in various locations around the castle whenever presented to his parents. As he grew and his world was slowly populated by siblings, two sisters he doted on and continues to, to this day, and a younger brother he could engage in slightly more masculine pursuits like hunting and riding with, Tristan began to emerge from his shell.
He evolved into a serious young man who balanced the combined pressures of expectation and birthright with a naturally studious nature. Level-headed and quietly chivalrous, he had no greater subject to model himself after than the Ard Ri, himself and in many small ways, in gesture and expression, a young boy's emulation of a father spoken of to him as both Haras and King; protector and authoritarian persists in the man Tristan has become today.
By the time he reached his fifteenth birthday, he had been robustly educated by the finest tutors in everything from the administration of the Kingdom to the importance of the Messengers and why they were to be prayed to for aid, but never revered. In the winter of the same year, he was wed to the wealthy daughter of an Ostian merchant Lord, Liaden Ruadh. The match was smart politics - an exchange of power and connection between sister realms - but it was also rooted in affection. For as dedicated as he was, Tristan was also tender-hearted and his wife-to-be inspired every protective sensibility he housed for his own sisters and something beyond even this. We are gathered here today as family in the Sight of The Four to witness the joining of two souls.
The holy words rang out, echoing throughout the royal temple, it was filled with dignitaries from across Dubhion and beyond, many having traveled from Ulmark for the occasion. At the front of the rows of spectators, a young couple stood; bearing witness to the words of the Sarcerdos. Words which would bind their lives together as two halves made whole. It was a solemn occasion and the fifteen year old heir apparent to the House of Ormonde was determined to treat it as such. He'd barely allowed himself to glance at the young girl across from him. Briefly, their eyes had met before the ceremony began and he'd felt heat rush to his cheeks. He'd almost smiled bashfully at her, before he regained control of himself.
But his heart was a traitor and it continued to beat a traitor’s rhythm against his ribs, as it had from the moment he saw his bride. It might have been his duty, to wed this woman. To take her into his bed and perform the act that would bring about sons and daughters, that would consummate what was both the divine will of the Four and the desire of two Houses - but it would also be his pleasure. He felt it, in his gut, in his fingers and toes, in the sudden dryness at the back of his throat. And not simply that same bolt of desire that had struck him the day they met but a far more frightening realization: he loved her.
The intensity that he felt it with was certainly a sin. It had to be. It would plunge his soul so firmly into the depths of Salis he'd never perform enough acts of contrition and prayer to claw his way back.
Should any Templar hold hesitations of this couple’s ability to bring glory to The Four, lighten your Salis now and speak truth before those gathered.
For a moment, Tristan felt pinned. Surely, the Four would sense it. There would come a murmuring as everyone gathered did.
His palms grew clammy. But after a pregnant pause, the Sarcerdos went on and the Prince could breathe once more.
In the first few years of marriage, it seemed that the Kingdom had itself a golden couple. Liaden was with child in their first three months of marriage. A pregnancy which yielded them a daughter they named Maeva. A month later and Liaden missed her course again, there was another child on the way. Perhaps a son, to complete the image of the Four: Oriana came next, another daughter, perfect and healthy - but not a son. It would not be until 1445 that the couple were again with child. That again the hope was there that this time, that this child would be the longed for son.
Next was Morganna. Another daughter for the couple. More heartache followed in miscarriages, it seemed that no matter the hours spent in prayer, there was no forcing the hand of the gods when they were disinclined to listen. He could not take the waiting. It was intolerable. He had been pacing the length of the hallway one way and then another for the better part of an hour. If he continued in this fashion, he’d have memorized the entirety of the vast tapestries that hung along the walls. They had been gifts, he remembered as much. Extravagant ones, from a visiting diplomat looking to curry favor with the ruling body of Dubhion. All but a spare few hopeful courtiers had been ushered away, Tristan could not summon patience to deal with any but his family this day. Not while his wife lay in her chambers, out of his reach and dying, for all he knew. “Tristan, for the love of Haras, sit down. Wearing a hole through the floor is hardly going to bring you news faster, brother.”
He twisted the ring on his finger and ignored his brother's idle complaint for a another moment before he finally relented and sank into a cushioned chair. The Prionnsa hunched over and pushed his fingers through his hair, feeling the shift of his sibling’s weight beside him. For once, Silas withheld whatever comment was within him. Footsteps shuffled toward them and the elder Ormonde was on his feet at once, impatiently waiting for one of the royal family’s elderly physicians to reach them and bend into a deeply differential bow.
“Your grace.” He rasped, and upon catching sight of Silas’ face, peering around Tristan’s arm bowed again. “And – your grace. I … come from the Lady Liaden’s chambers.” Tristan’s expression shifted and he led the elderly man aside, out of range of even his brother’s sharp ears. “Tell me. What news of the Lady Ormonde?”
“Physically, the lady is well, your grace." There was a sharp exhale of relief. "But I’m afraid the child ..." The prince’s expression shuttered as he listened. Another baby lost. There would be no feast to celebrate the birth of a long anticipated heir. His brother remained as he was, the reluctant spare.
“The child." He pressed in an undertone. "It was healthy?"
“It appeared so, your grace. Simply too small to live.”
Several emotions chased across the prince’s dark features, before he stepped away from the physician. “Have you informed their majesties, yet?” The old healer hesitated. Tristan could read the discomfort on his lined face. These were, after all, matters of a delicate nature.
“No, your grace. I thought perhaps -”
He’d come to Tristan first, to inform him and gauge his willingness to inform them himself. The young Prince's jaw clenched, he nodded, almost imperceptibly. "You may go,” he instructed, suddenly weary beyond measure. “I will bring the news to their majesties myself."
The lack of a male heir continues to weigh heavily on both Tristan and his wife.
Having miscarried for a second time, there has been a great deal of discussion surrounding what measures the couple must take to address what is the clear displeasure of the Four - most recently, their eldest daughter, Maeva, was offered to the Conosensium in the hopes it would regain their favor. Between the threat posed by both Lornesse and Mercia on their borders and a new fracture bleeding source into the world outside Inshmor, in Tristan's mind the stakes have never been higher for Dubhion or House Ormonde.
Magical Abilities Explained
Consequences of Being Awake
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Last seen Feb 28 2018, 10:09 PMCreated on September 4th, 2016has made 109 postsplayed by Jacqui