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Valerius - Imperium Militare
Eirikir
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This is the story Of Marcus Valerius, son of Anvil and loyal soldier of the Empire. It will be told over the course of years of his life. Marcus is my active in-game main and is open to RP should you ever want the wisdom of a good man. In-game he is in the present time, these are just his backstories. I hope you all enjoy it.
The winter of 2E 572, Anvil Provence
"I'm leaving." said the young man as he entered the splendidly ornate room. It was Imperial in style, First Era in feel. Its cream walls lowering into gold sand colored floors accented in crimson. The unbarred windows letting in the light and breeze of the Gold Coast. The young man waited for another in the room to speak, but it was as silent as a tomb. His parents sat ignoring him as long as they could, as if it would make it not real.
Finally his mother broke the agony of it, "Antonius, say something to our son." she said as she approached the younger man, placing the back of her had against his cheek. "I what would you have me say that would be untruth Faustina? That he is a foolish boy throwing his life away? Marcus, you are a fool to follow yet another madman to the most cursed chair in all of Nir?" Marcus stopped him, replying with the fervor of the young and idealistic. "Father, you have said yourself, the Longhouse Emperors are a threat to the traditions you hold dear." Antonius waved his hand but never looked up, "All before you were even born, and the High Council before them, and the Akiviri before them. All who enter that city find madness the closer they get to the Ruby Throne. The traditions I have taught you carry martial teachings true. Our family has served the Empire for generations, but you don't seek to serve. You seek to topple, with that madman Varen. His honeyed words cloud the minds of the young."
Marcus seemed shocked, "Father you can't mean that." Antonius stood finally, his back to his son. "We Valerii serve the Empire, not men who hold the reigns of power. High Council, Emperor, Reachman, it does not matter. We serve by trade and by arms. We do not join rebelions because guess what boy, another always comes along. Stay and serve as you should son. I grow ever older and need you here." Marcus turned away himself, "I have to do what's right." Both men walked away, one further into the house, the other away.
Edited by Eirikir on March 19, 2017 11:03PM The winter of 2E 572, Anvil Provence
"I'm leaving." said the young man as he entered the splendidly ornate room. It was Imperial in style, First Era in feel. Its cream walls lowering into gold sand colored floors accented in crimson. The unbarred windows letting in the light and breeze of the Gold Coast. The young man waited for another in the room to speak, but it was as silent as a tomb. His parents sat ignoring him as long as they could, as if it would make it not real.
Finally his mother broke the agony of it, "Antonius, say something to our son." she said as she approached the younger man, placing the back of her had against his cheek. "I what would you have me say that would be untruth Faustina? That he is a foolish boy throwing his life away? Marcus, you are a fool to follow yet another madman to the most cursed chair in all of Nir?" Marcus stopped him, replying with the fervor of the young and idealistic. "Father, you have said yourself, the Longhouse Emperors are a threat to the traditions you hold dear." Antonius waved his hand but never looked up, "All before you were even born, and the High Council before them, and the Akiviri before them. All who enter that city find madness the closer they get to the Ruby Throne. The traditions I have taught you carry martial teachings true. Our family has served the Empire for generations, but you don't seek to serve. You seek to topple, with that madman Varen. His honeyed words cloud the minds of the young."
Marcus seemed shocked, "Father you can't mean that." Antonius stood finally, his back to his son. "We Valerii serve the Empire, not men who hold the reigns of power. High Council, Emperor, Reachman, it does not matter. We serve by trade and by arms. We do not join rebelions because guess what boy, another always comes along. Stay and serve as you should son. I grow ever older and need you here." Marcus turned away himself, "I have to do what's right." Both men walked away, one further into the house, the other away.
Server: PS4-NA
PSN: Eirikir
Name: Eirikir "Erik" Kololf
Alliance: Ebonheart Pact
Race: Nord (Lycanthrope)
Class: Dragonknight (Range DPS)
Playstyle: Crafter, PVE, PVP, Roleplayer
PSN: Eirikir
Name: Eirikir "Erik" Kololf
Alliance: Ebonheart Pact
Race: Nord (Lycanthrope)
Class: Dragonknight (Range DPS)
Playstyle: Crafter, PVE, PVP, Roleplayer
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