(no subject)
Character name: Judge Magister Gabranth
Series: Final Fantasy XII
Age: 36
Job: Guard Dog
Canon: The world of Final Fantasy XII is a world on the verge of the war. On one side; Archadia. Opposing her; Rozarria. And sitting in between them; Dalmasca, a sort of neutral buffer zone. The story that unfolds from there is one of power - and more specifically how far people will go to gain (or regain) power.
As a Judge Magister - the highest echelon of the Archadian royal family’s elite guard and the final arbiters of the law - Gabranth’s loyalty naturally lies with Archadia. However, he doesn’t precisely agree with Archadian policy, something of a rarity for his position - Archadia conquered his homeland, and he chose to join the ranks of his conquerors. Needless to say, the years haven’t been kind to him, and as result he’s ended up a bitter, angry shell of a man, although he still has his pride, if not his honor. He also has something of a stubborn streak, particularly when it comes to his brother, who he feels has betrayed their homeland.
Note: Gabranth is being taken from directly after his death.
Sample Entry:
What... what madness is this? I had not thought that death would lead to such a place. ‘Tis little better than a necrohol, full of the restless dead. And you would have me guard those found here? To act as protector to those who have fallen? Hound I may be, and honorless, but I will not bend so tamely to the leash. You have nothing with which to lay claim to over me. This is not Archadia; you are no Emperor.
True, death breaks all bonds, and my duty is passed on to another. But yet I will not serve! Not for such as you have seen fit to show me. What need have the dead for what little I can yet offer? Death cannot hurt them; they are already lifeless. Nor have I the inclination to follow their mindless wanderings for the simple sake of protection. Surely if sword and shield were enough to bring them safety someone would have already taken matters in hand. I see no reason that I should be forced to make up for their lack of judgment. Or if protector must be found, would the other creatures here not suit?
Or was this your intent? To suggest that I am little better than they are, suited only to guard those who are no longer among the living. A cruel fate, and one I want none of. I may no longer have right to serve, but know this. Though I may be no longer among the living I yet have my pride! I shall not yield to a craven sorceress, hiding behind the walls of such an encampment! I may no longer hold what position I had, but I will not falter! I will...
...never give you up, never let you down? Aye, there is truth enough in that, for all that I can see little reason to sing of it. Nor should it go without saying that there is but one to whom that applies. You do not and will not have my loyalty, for as long as I yet live.
Voting went on over here, to the tune of 88%.
Series: Final Fantasy XII
Age: 36
Job: Guard Dog
Canon: The world of Final Fantasy XII is a world on the verge of the war. On one side; Archadia. Opposing her; Rozarria. And sitting in between them; Dalmasca, a sort of neutral buffer zone. The story that unfolds from there is one of power - and more specifically how far people will go to gain (or regain) power.
As a Judge Magister - the highest echelon of the Archadian royal family’s elite guard and the final arbiters of the law - Gabranth’s loyalty naturally lies with Archadia. However, he doesn’t precisely agree with Archadian policy, something of a rarity for his position - Archadia conquered his homeland, and he chose to join the ranks of his conquerors. Needless to say, the years haven’t been kind to him, and as result he’s ended up a bitter, angry shell of a man, although he still has his pride, if not his honor. He also has something of a stubborn streak, particularly when it comes to his brother, who he feels has betrayed their homeland.
Note: Gabranth is being taken from directly after his death.
Sample Entry:
What... what madness is this? I had not thought that death would lead to such a place. ‘Tis little better than a necrohol, full of the restless dead. And you would have me guard those found here? To act as protector to those who have fallen? Hound I may be, and honorless, but I will not bend so tamely to the leash. You have nothing with which to lay claim to over me. This is not Archadia; you are no Emperor.
True, death breaks all bonds, and my duty is passed on to another. But yet I will not serve! Not for such as you have seen fit to show me. What need have the dead for what little I can yet offer? Death cannot hurt them; they are already lifeless. Nor have I the inclination to follow their mindless wanderings for the simple sake of protection. Surely if sword and shield were enough to bring them safety someone would have already taken matters in hand. I see no reason that I should be forced to make up for their lack of judgment. Or if protector must be found, would the other creatures here not suit?
Or was this your intent? To suggest that I am little better than they are, suited only to guard those who are no longer among the living. A cruel fate, and one I want none of. I may no longer have right to serve, but know this. Though I may be no longer among the living I yet have my pride! I shall not yield to a craven sorceress, hiding behind the walls of such an encampment! I may no longer hold what position I had, but I will not falter! I will...
...never give you up, never let you down? Aye, there is truth enough in that, for all that I can see little reason to sing of it. Nor should it go without saying that there is but one to whom that applies. You do not and will not have my loyalty, for as long as I yet live.
Voting went on over here, to the tune of 88%.