Post by Horas on Nov 17, 2009 17:12:58 GMT -5
Name: Quentyn Nymeros Targaryen
Age: 24 (b. 574)
Skills:
Master Espionage
Expert Small Blades
Noteworthy Persuasion
Noteworthy Deception
Apprentice Political Intrigue
Apprentice Athletics
Novice Poisons
Beginner Charm
Beginner Language (Free Cities)
Physical Description: Fickle genetics have left Quentyn with neither the ethereal beauty of the Targaryen line nor the dusky features of House Martell. Quentyn's features are regular, though not particularly dashing or handsome. His eyes are a murky brown, and his skin is just dark enough for it to appear as though he has a slight tan. His hair is fair and short.
Quentyn is shorter than average and has a slight build, but he is deceptively quick. He rarely wears armor, and though he has a sword for appearances' sake, no one can remember the last time he drew it in anger.
History: Fate had never been kind to Quentyn. His mother, Liliyana Targaryen, sister to the Queen, was executed for regicide when Quentyn was but an infant. His father, Martyne Martell, already disowned by his family, drank himself to death shortly after. The orphan of a murderess and a pariah, Quentyn's prospects did not look good, royal blood or not.
Neither House Targaryen nor Martell was so cold-hearted to let the boy starve, however, and Quentyn always had an adequate stipend throughout his childhood. Queen Rhaenys was particularly generous, and always had a spare moment for the youth. Even so, the Queen was constantly busy running the realm, and house Martell made it clear that they had more important things to do than rear a child only peripherally involved in the line of succession. And so Quentyn was raised by and large in the rough company of the handful of guardsmen who were still loyal to his parents' memory.
Most of Quentyn's childhood and teenage years were spent travelling from place to place, spending a year at the red keep, then a few months at Sunspear, and then a few more at the King's Court, and then more wherever any would host him. He even spent a year or two abroad.
It was on his eighteenth nameday that Quentyn decided to cease being a nuisance to his family and become an asset. His skills were modest; he was no battlefield leader, and his skill with a blade was suspect. But he found work in the cracks, taking on small but necessary duties; diplomatic missions, negotiating with lords, and other less savory jobs... jobs no King or Prince could dirty themselves with, but those too important to trust to anyone other than family...
Reputation: It is a rare man who would recognize Quentyn's name, and a rarer man still who could pick him out of a crowd.
Age: 24 (b. 574)
Skills:
Master Espionage
Expert Small Blades
Noteworthy Persuasion
Noteworthy Deception
Apprentice Political Intrigue
Apprentice Athletics
Novice Poisons
Beginner Charm
Beginner Language (Free Cities)
Physical Description: Fickle genetics have left Quentyn with neither the ethereal beauty of the Targaryen line nor the dusky features of House Martell. Quentyn's features are regular, though not particularly dashing or handsome. His eyes are a murky brown, and his skin is just dark enough for it to appear as though he has a slight tan. His hair is fair and short.
Quentyn is shorter than average and has a slight build, but he is deceptively quick. He rarely wears armor, and though he has a sword for appearances' sake, no one can remember the last time he drew it in anger.
History: Fate had never been kind to Quentyn. His mother, Liliyana Targaryen, sister to the Queen, was executed for regicide when Quentyn was but an infant. His father, Martyne Martell, already disowned by his family, drank himself to death shortly after. The orphan of a murderess and a pariah, Quentyn's prospects did not look good, royal blood or not.
Neither House Targaryen nor Martell was so cold-hearted to let the boy starve, however, and Quentyn always had an adequate stipend throughout his childhood. Queen Rhaenys was particularly generous, and always had a spare moment for the youth. Even so, the Queen was constantly busy running the realm, and house Martell made it clear that they had more important things to do than rear a child only peripherally involved in the line of succession. And so Quentyn was raised by and large in the rough company of the handful of guardsmen who were still loyal to his parents' memory.
Most of Quentyn's childhood and teenage years were spent travelling from place to place, spending a year at the red keep, then a few months at Sunspear, and then a few more at the King's Court, and then more wherever any would host him. He even spent a year or two abroad.
It was on his eighteenth nameday that Quentyn decided to cease being a nuisance to his family and become an asset. His skills were modest; he was no battlefield leader, and his skill with a blade was suspect. But he found work in the cracks, taking on small but necessary duties; diplomatic missions, negotiating with lords, and other less savory jobs... jobs no King or Prince could dirty themselves with, but those too important to trust to anyone other than family...
Reputation: It is a rare man who would recognize Quentyn's name, and a rarer man still who could pick him out of a crowd.
Hope you all are well and happy.