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Pallaton Valerius, Regent of Adela

Started by Draconian, November 02, 2017, 12:42:01 AM

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Draconian


Art by me!

[[NAME]]
Pallaton Valerius

[[NICKNAME]]
Absolutely no nicknames. - That he knows about

[[AGE]]
37

[[GENDER]]
Male

[[SPECIES/ETHNICITY]]
Human, Adelan

[[HEIGHT/BUILD]]
6'5"

[[OCCUPATION]]
Regent of Adela

[[RESIDENCE]]
Adela, Ketra.


__________________IN-DEPTH

[[PHYSICAL]]
Pallaton is a tall imposing man. Broad shouldered and trim. Years of hard work has left him a large man over all and well muscled. His skin is a dark tan as are most Adelans and his hair is black. Most of the time his hair is slicked back, sometimes tied into a pony tail with a chunk of hair from behind his ear tied off into a small braid. Sometimes it's decorated but usually, is not. His eyes are the classic gold, thick lashes give him a near constant bedroom gaze. It can turn intense though, his eyes are so bright.

A handsome man, he has high cheekbones and a square jaw which he uses quite well for frowning with, the scars on his face are a thing he considers a sign of weakness. Still, he wears them as proudly as he can even though they're an example of a near failure. The scar on his face cuts from below his left eye, across his nose and cheek, cuts into his ear and partly across his scalp. The hair has grown back but alas, the chunk of ear is still missing. The second scar was one that near killed him. Infection never set in and he managed to not die of blood loss. This one is simply a cut to the neck and much more easily covered up.

Various scars are on his body but the two largest and most notable are the ones on his face except for one that cuts across his left palm and up his index finger - the one time he tried to help the Help cut things up for the evening meal. It went badly and he uses that scar as a reminder of just how little kitchen finesse he has.

[[PERSONALITY]]
Pallaton is a no nonsense man. He's to the point, blunt, and aloof. Pallaton is bigger, stronger and smarter than you are and he knows it. However, he's not above asking for help should he need it and he seeks knowledge like a sponge. Pallaton can be seen with his nose in a book and writing notes as often as he's seen exercising.

Leader
A born and bred leader. Pallaton draws attention wherever he is with a large physical presence, a commanding voice and a gaze that can cut through stone - not literally of course. He knows his way around the politics and has always had a mind for it. It's a battlefield all the same and he's a magnificent sight on both.

(Secretly) Doting Dad
The one thing Pallaton loves above all else is his remaining children. They're his singular weakness and he cherishes them immensely, of course, he only shows this in private. Most nights before the children's bed time - Well, his daughter, his son isn't really a child anymore - he finds some way to spend time with them. It's a quiet moment for him and bonding time with them.

Reading is Relaxing
Pallaton also loves reading. It could be the most boring thing in the world and he'd still have a sense of peace about it. Being read to is something wonderful beyond everything else. While his wife was alive, he'd rest his head on her lap and she would read to him and it's become a thing he's missed greatly since her passing. Usually they were documents or letters - nothing romantic or lovely - but hearing her voice soothed him and more often than not he'd fall asleep there and have to re-read the document the following day anyway.

Mourning Widower
Pallaton's wife of 18 years had passed recently in childbirth. It's only been a year but still he mourns them. For the wife he won't be able to spend the rest of his life with, his rock, and the child he never got to meet beyond holding him for a few moments before being lifeless and cold. Still Pallaton is slowly coming out of his mourning, sometimes though, a noise reminds him or a scent on the wind that carries her favourite flower and he needs a moment to collect himself. Occasionally, when in the depths of his room the faint sound of someone trying to hold back tears breaches the thick doors and honestly, he has no idea who it could be from. Maybe her ghost.


[[ABILITIES]]
A brilliant tactician, well read and well spoken. Pallaton is a man who is more than what he looks like - and he looks like a giant brute.

Along with being a tactician he is also an accomplished fighter with a sword and shield and many pole arms. Spears. Halberds. Anything pointy you can stab someone with on dragon back. Hand to hand combat is decent - though he's never had to do more than punch someone in the face. Most ground combat was with a sword when it was done.

Decently talented with bows. Not an expert marksman but he can make do and knows his way around the weapon.

[[RELATIONSHIPS]]
Maribeth - Wife of 18 years, deceased as of one year ago - A lovely woman with tanned skin, a mess of dark curls for hair and bright blue eyes.

Avalaton - Son. Recently sent on an easy mission to get his feet wet as a soldier but didn't come home the same.

Lucille - Daughter - Toddler, old enough to run but also not old enough to read. Has nurses and is taken care of. Tiny girl with a spring of curls on her head and bright blue eyes.

Arcturus .X. -  Pallaton's dragon partner. Grey. Big. Beautiful. Big wings and a big heart. Arc is sassy and enjoy's naps in the sun. He has a lovely rack of horntlers ( horn antlers ) and towards the tips they harden and go clear. Arcturus is a pretty rainbow maker.
Art of Arcturus done by my friend! For me!

[[HISTORY]]

Born privileged, Pallaton is the son of a Dragon Rider and an Apothecary. While not famous, his mother was a brilliant woman and her dragon was just the same. Her armor stained red for her love of Adela and her hair as black as night. Pallaton idolized his mother and aspired to be where she was. His father was a little disappointed he wouldn't be in medicine like him, but as a proud Adelan he was pleased when his son chose to join the military.

Like he did in everything Pallaton excelled. It was a short while and early into his career when he met Maribeth, a woman whom he commissioned to make most of his formal clothes. A brilliant seamstress and weaver Pallaton was taken in by her big blue eyes instantly and it was more out of necessity than proper planning that had them getting married so early at 18.

It was only a few months after they were officially married that she gave birth to their first child. Pallaton worked harder to climb ranks. To prove himself to his mother. To give his child someone to look up to. His wife kept with her work, coming from a long line of brilliant weavers and designers, nurses kept the child occupied and sometimes Pallaton was home for dinner. As the years went on, he climbed the ranks. Made himself known as a calm man. Cool headed. A good thinker.

The birth of his second child, a daughter, made him a mushy man for a while but he didn't let that stop him on his climb. Pallaton was known as a just and sure leader to his squad, and when the King went missing he was part of the group of potential candidates to watch over the throne. He knew how to lead, he was deeply Loyal to the crown of Adela. Finally, after much deliberation, he was selected.

Pallaton fell into the role easily, it being a figure head and hardly glamorous. Though he knew that in the first place or he'd have fought being stuck reading and making hard choices with tooth and nail. Still, if someone was going to make hard choices he'd rather it be him. He trusted him. Of course, he also thought he made the best choices. There's also whole counsel before anything is decided -- so that helped. He has no interest in being the true leader as of yet.

It wasn't long into the new role of pseudo-leadership that Maribeth fell pregnant again, a third child. The pregnancy was full of complications though and a few times they'd thought they'd lost the baby, the ending was far more tragic though because Pallaton lost both. His children lost their mother and their sibling and he lost a wife and a child. He couldn't wallow though. He couldn't afford to, not with a country to help run.

Mostly he keeps his mourning to the dead of night. Hugging the pillow on her side of the bed. There's still a nightgown - just one - and he keeps a few of her plain rings on a chain around his neck. It's been a year since she's passed but she was supposed to grow old with him and it still hurts. Pallaton faces every day though like it's new and he has no intention of letting the death of his wife end his own. The wound is still there, but it's healing and he tries to do his best by his country and by his King.

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