♘ Sir Mandorallen, Baron of Vo Mandor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
inshiningarmor) wrote2012-08-30 11:38 pm
inshiningarmor) wrote2012-08-30 11:38 pm
Entry tags:
[ APPLICATION: TU SHANSHU ]
Player Information:
Name: Madi
Age: 23
Contact:![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
runawayballista
Game Cast: N/A
Character Information:
Name: Sir Mandorallen, the Baron of Vo Mandor (alternatively, the Bastard of Vo Mandor)
Canon: David Eddings’ The Belgariad (book series)
Canon Point: Roughly midway through Book 4, Castle of Wizardry; during the party’s stay at Riva, after Garion’s coronation
Age: 29
Reference: http://davideddings.wikia.com/wiki/Mandorallen
there are also some good excerpts from various TV Tropes pages that do an excellent job of shedding light on his character; since I can’t link to those sections specifically I’ll link to the page and also paste the excerpt for ease of reading
from http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/KnightInShiningArmor:
Sir Mandorallen from David Eddings' Belgariad saga (and its sequel, the Malloreon saga) is a textbook example of the Knight in Shining Armor; he embodies this trope, both outwardly and inwardly. Complete with a tragic chivalric love-from-afar affair. Eddings lampshaded the heck out of the trope, though: Mandorallen is heroic, brave and fearless, unbeaten in combat, honorable, truthful, and so on and so on. The first time in his life that he suddenly felt real fear (when he faced a magical opponent that he couldn't defeat) let to a kind of nervous breakdown, a self-doubt of epic proportions during which Mandorallen developed phobophobia, a paralyzing fear of being afraid. He eventually got over it, with the help of his friends. The other characters routinely tended to poke gentle fun of Mandorallen's utter dedication to chivalry. People who met him for the first time kept asking "Is this guy for real?" and "Did he really just charge the enemy? He's going to die!" - "No he isn't. He's Mandorallen."
• Everything you need to know about Mandorallen is summed up in this exchange from Castle of Wizardry, wherein Mandorallen is escorting the Rivan Queen out to the center of a field to address over fifty thousand heavily-armed, potentially hostile soldiers during avery tense diplomatic stand-off. It's important to note that Mandorallen is speaking here with absolutely no irony whatsoever.
Mandorallen: We are some distance from our own forces, your Majesty. I pray thee, be moderate in thine address. Even I might experience some difficulty in facing the massed legions of all Tolnedra.
from http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Belgariad:
Badass:
• Just about every member of Garion's True Companions except Ce'Nedra could be tagged as this, plus quite a few other characters. Mandorallen is the standout, though, a man who's got himself firmly convinced that he's invincible; who once crushed a lion unarmed (not unarmored, but still). Mandorallen's character can be summed up in one line. And note, he's not joking.
• Mandorallen: We are some distance from our own forces, your Majesty. I pray thee, be moderate in thine address. Even I might experience some difficulty in facing the massed legions of all Tolnedra.
• Mandorallen's badassery is summed up like this: One of Mandorallen's countrymen, who's still fighting a civil war against Mandorallen's side of the political fence and the animosity is so thick that both sides have said things like "He is Asturian, so he is a knave by definition!" and have a staggering power of reinterpreting reality inside their head, admitted that while he hates Mandorallen, he acknowledges there's no way he'll lose when he challenges a bunch of other knights, and says Mandorallen is the most feared man in all of Arendia. Mandorallen's prowess in combat is so awesome it cuts across the political borders where blind, foaming-at-the-mouth, us-vs-them patriotism is the standard tone of discussion.
◦ To add real weight to that statement it should be noted that ALL Arends are difficult to scare, treat all life like really bad romantic poetry, and will pledge their lives to anyone in need without a second thought. Therefore inspiring even basic fear into them is very difficult.
• It should, however, be mentioned that Mandorallen is not overly burdened with intelligence, and so his judgement in the above example (with the legions) may be suspect.
Setting: The setting of The Belgariad is rather complex at a glance. It is at its heart a very traditional medieval fantasy setting, drawing heavily on medieval Europe for inspiration (particularly when it comes to Arendia, Mandorallen’s homeland), and the technology and society is roughly equivalent to that. A form of sorcery exists -- known as the Will and the Word -- but most of its remaining practitioners are thousands of years old, and for the most part, the people of the world regard sorcery as a fiction.
THE QUEST FOR THE ORB
According to local lore, their world has been around for at least several thousand years. It is governed by a pantheon of several gods, most of whom claimed a nation of people for his own and became the patron god of that people. The sole exception was the eldest god Aldur, who dwelt alone but, very sparingly and in the early years of the world, took on a handful of men as disciples and taught them the Will and the Word. The first of these men was Belgarath, a world-renowned sorcerer of legend who is at present approximately seven thousand years old.
At one point Aldur took up an ordinary rock and upon his touch, it became an enchanted item with a living will of its known. It became known as the Orb of Aldur and possessed great power. However, the god Torak, whose people were the Angaraks, became jealous and lusted after the Orb; he stole it from Aldur and used it to crack open the world, splitting the continent in two, with most of the Gods’ peoples to the west, and the others to the east. However, when Torak raised the Orb against the earth, it lashed out at him and burned half of his face and the hand that held it. Despite the fact that he could not make the Orb submit to his will, he kept it for a couple thousand years, until Belgarath lead Cherek, king of Belar’s people, and his sons to take it back. Because the Orb would only submit to the will of one who was pure of heart, and would burn any other who touched it, the Orb was given to Cherek’s youngest son Riva, who was pure, and his line would protect the Orb.
Years later, Torak waged war upon the West in an effort to retrieve the Orb. His war culminated in a final battle at Vo Mimbre in Arendia, during which Torak was directly confronted by Brand, the Rivan Warder. With the help of the Orb embedded in his shield, he was able to defeat Torak, putting him into what was basically a coma, and he would not rise until certain events came into place in the future. Many years later, the Orb would be stolen again by Torak’s agents, setting in motion a course of events that would prove to be very significant. The universe in The Belgariad had a specific Purpose from its inception, and when Torak split the earth with the Orb, the natural order of things was thrown askew, and the Purpose split into two distinct possibilities. These two possibilities are also known as Prophecies, both of them leading up to a single Event that, depending on its outcome, would either correct the Purpose of the universe and set it again on its right path, or would continue to send it astray and lead to the eventual destruction of the universe. Mandorallen is a part of the party that follows the former, the Prophecy of Light, and he plays the prophesied role of Knight Protector on this quest. He and the other members of the party following the Prophecy of Light, led by Belgarath, his daughter Polgara, and Garion, the lost heir to the Rivan throne, embark on a quest to retrieve the Orb and set right the Purpose of the universe.
ARENDIA
Mandorallen is from the nation of Arendia, one of the kingdoms of the West, and the Arends’ patron god is Chaldan. Chaldan holds pride, honor, and militaristic tradition as the most important virtues, and as a result, Arendia is widely known as one of the most war-torn nations in the world. Civil war is basically their national pastime, and it has been going on for thousands of years.
The nation of Arendia is written almost as a parody of European medieval society, particularly feudal society, and it has a distinctly Arthurian flavor. Feudalism and serfdom run strong in Arendia even in current times. The Arends are extraordinarily concerned with honor, nobility, and saving face, and they tend to have a flair for the dramatic. Torrid, tragic romance tales are common entertainment in Arendia, and they relish in that sort of heartbreaking tragedy. They are also notoriously dense at times, as the nation as a whole seems to be wholly lacking in common sense. Arends are often described as being incredibly noble but not very bright, and that original thoughts rarely enter their minds. Arends as a whole are easily described as acting first and then realizing the consequences much later. Arends take almost everything said to them at face value and are quick to act, often in the defense of someone’s honor. Unfortunately, as a result, this tends to lend itself to lots of violent conflicts, often on a large scale.
Arendia originally contained three duchies which were the major ruling forces of the nation: Vo Mimbre, Vo Asturia, and Vo Wacune. Arendia has been lost to the throes of civil war for about as long as their history can remember, and the largest casualty of that war, by far, has been Vo Wacune -- over the course of the war, the Wacite Arends have been totally killed off, and Vo Wacune lies in ruins. Vo Astur does, as well; however, the Asturian Arends are alive and well. After the Battle of Vo Mimbre, Belgarath and Polgara made the heirs of the Asturians and the Mimbrates intermarry in order to bring about the end of their nonstop civil war. As a way to reinforce the union of these two peoples, every subsequent king and queen of Arendia take the names Korodullin and Mayaserana, the names of the first heirs to marry after the Battle of Vo Mimbre, and there is quite a bit of inbreeding in the royal family to keep things close, which also results in them being rather sickly.
Although the civil war ended officially well over a thousand years ago, the truth is that Arendia is far from restored -- the kingdom is ruled from Vo Mimbre, and though there are still Asturian nobles about, they are treated with very little respect. Tensions between Mimbrates and Asturians still run high, and Asturians as a whole are treated poorly by the crown, particularly because most of the people serving it are Mimbrates. Although the serfs serving these nobles are largely indifferent to such matters, Mimbrate and Asturian nobles frequently attack one another -- Mimbrates will murder Asturians in cold blood and then claim, afterward, that they had mistaken them for highway robbers or bandits, and likewise, Asturians often strike at Mimbrates from the trees with their bows with the aim of killing them. Some Asturians have even gone so far as to construct plots to take down the crown and restore order to the nation, though none have succeeded thus far.
Mimbrate society is particularly Arthurian compared to the rest of Arendia. It is populated, in the upper classes, by armored knights on horseback and ladies in elaborate gowns who pine after them. Life at court is central to Mimbrate society, and they are incredibly concerned with honor and nobility. Mimbrates employ a rather archaic mode of speech which sets them apart from their Asturian brothers, full of thees and thous and forasmuches, which much of the world finds stiff and even pretentious. Mimbrates make up the majority of those serving at court, and the knights who serve the king as vassals have their own land and people, mostly serfs, to look after.
Personality: Mandorallen is very much a product of his culture; he is the absolute soul of an Arend, and an almost archetypical example of a Mimbrate. He employs the typical archaic speech of Mimbrate Arends, even when he is angry or upset. He is proud, noble, and chivalrous, and overly concerned with his own honor; he has sort of a grave manner about him, and though he has occasion to be lightly humorous, he is overall rather straight-faced. Mandorallen is rather concerned with his own self-perfection, as a point of pride and nobility, and when he felt fear for the first time, it greatly wounded his pride. Mandorallen, growing up, had never experienced fear, and has generally never considered human opponents as being very threatening in combat. However, the first time he fought a supernatural being he was struck to the core with fear, and then for some time lived in perpetual fear of that fear returning -- he became phobophobic. At the suggestion of a friend to laugh in the face of fear, he has the tendency to ride into battle while laughing to himself; it seems to help, although he is still rather concerned with proving himself not to be a coward.
That said, though, he is very confident when it comes to facing human opponents, which seems at odds with his phobophobia. He is a pacifist as far as Arends go, but he definitely seems to enjoy violence on an individual scale -- he has the tendency to be a little overeager when it comes to battle, but he retains his composition. His towering overconfidence when it comes to facing human opponents means that he appears to make light of dangerous situations in his own way. With good reason, though; Mandorallen’s name is widely known in Arendia for his prowess in combat, and few are eager to challenge him. However, it is due in part also to his typically Arendish lack of common sense; it seems that Mandorallen does not even recognize his own human limits at times. Also, since honor and pride are so important to Arends, he is often willing to forsake his own safety for those ends. He is motivated greatly by honor and purpose; Mandorallen is definitely a man who needs a purpose to his life.
However, despite his eagerness to violence, Mandorallen is not a cruel or bitter person. Rather, it is a very Arendish tendency; it is largely that most matters of issue in Arendia are settled by duels or contests of strength and so it is Mandorallen’s first thought when a conflict arises. However, he is incredibly sincere and self-sacrificing, and is genuinely concerned for the well-being of those he cares about.
Upon learning of his location, Mandorallen would consider it a chance for self-improvement, even taking that notion on as his task, especially in light of his relatively recent internal crisis with regards to fear. He would be concerned about his companions going on without him, but upon learning that time is not moving without him back home, he would be greatly comforted and would be able to conduct a day-to-day life without feeling a crushing sense of guilt. Mandorallen may even find his ways of thinking broadened by his stay on Tu Vishan, as well, as he interacts with people from different worlds.
Appearance: PB: Goran Visnjic http://chthonian.broken-boats.net/goran%20visnjic/000b.png
Not much description is given of Mandorallen in canon. He is described as a white man of medium height with dark, curly hair and blue eyes. Arends in general are described as being shorter, stockier, and darker-skinned than the peoples father to the north, so it is fair to assume that Mandorallen is as well.
Abilities: Mandorallen’s abilities are all within the bounds natural human ability, but they are somewhat remarkable nonetheless. He is exceptionally skilled in combat and his name is widely known in Arendia for it, especially when it comes to one-on-one combat. He is proficient with both lance and broadsword, and he is known for his exceptional skill when it comes to jousting. Although he is not astoundingly bright, he is a decent strategist, although much of his strategy relies heavily on his own perceived strength and undefeatability. He is also exceptionally learned in the ways of high society; Mandorallen has spent his fair share of time at court, and he understands the intricacies of court manners and the towering importance of honor and saving face as though it were second nature to him. He is surprisingly adept at navigating delicate social situations as are common among the nobility, and has a typically Arendish knack for being obtuse and roundabout in his speech when the situation calls for it.
Inventory: Full mail suit and blue surcoat; broadsword
Suite: Earth, 2 floors -- Mandorallen would feel more at home with the suites here; the stone buildings will remind him rather a lot of home. He’s used to spacious rooms in medieval-style castles, and as a man of nobility, he’s also accustomed to having rather a bit of space.
In-Character Samples:
Third Person: The room had fallen deadly quiet at the clatter of Mandorallen’s gauntlet upon the stone floor. It lasted for only a moment, however, and then a hushed rumble of voices began to course through the crowd, some aghast, some amused, and some flat-out befuddled. Behind Mandorallen, Barak let out a sigh. Mandorallen, however, appeared to take no notice, his focus entirely on the bearded man before him. He was filled with a kind of livid, seething sense of justice, his chest drawn up high as he glowered at the man. The nerve this bearded buffoon had, to deliver unseemly insults to the women in his company -- he would defend their honor with his sword, and prove this man’s folly in blood.
“Wilt thou rise to my challenge?” Mandorallen asked loftily. “Or art thou too craven to defend thy words with thy body?” There was an expectant tone to his voice, and when a beat passed without answer, he grew confused. His challenge was clear enough -- and honestly, it wasn’t a terribly difficult decision. Fight or be proved a coward -- Mandorallen could not understand why the man simply stared back at him, eyebrows knit. Mandorallen had never heard of a challenge going unanswered for quite so long in Arendia; and almost always they were accepted, for a man of true honor would refuse to be proven a coward. Mandorallen frowned, leaning forward just a bit.
“Well?” he prompted again. “Art thou a coward, sir, or wilt thou defend thy wicked words?”
Barak leaned forward and murmured to him, “We don’t have that custom in Cherek, friend. If you feel like running your sword through a man, you don’t waste any time asking permission.”
Mandorallen looked stricken, and his armor creaked slightly as he twisted his neck to look back at his comrade. He was obviously troubled -- Alorn nations were so more up-front and direct than he was used to, having grown up in Mimbrate society, and the news that his challenge was worth little in this nation was difficult to swallow. “That seemeth rather barbaric, my friend. Dost thou never first warn thine opponent?”
Barak shrugged. “The sound of a sword being drawn’s usually warning enough.”
Considering this new information, Mandorallen turned back to his would-be opponent and squared his shoulders. He found it troubling that Chereks practiced violence upon one another with so little decorum, and flexibility in thinking was generally not his strong point, but after a long moment’s consideration, he decided with a certain resignation that he had little choice but to indulge in the local custom.
“Very well, then. If thou wilt not retrieve my gauntlet, then I suppose I have no choice,” Mandorallen said with a bit of a sigh to his voice. His face was serious, but he felt a little flicker of excitement leap in his chest as he drew his broadsword, the metal scraping against the inside of the scabbard. “Prepare thyself then, good sir, for I shall prove thy folly upon thy body!”
Network: [ Mandorallen has opted for video for his first post, because while he’s figured out how to use the keyboard, the notion of using it still mystifies him somehow. ]
Greetings, fair people. I thought perhaps I could trouble thee with a question of mine own. I was garbed in mail on mine arrival, and, as I had feared, my time in the water hath set it to rusting. Doth any man know of a sturdy armorer or blacksmith who might thusly be capable of mending it? The damage doth run deep, I fear, and I must confess that I feel naked striking out without its cool weight upon my breast.
[ He smiles, a bit vacantly, into the video feed, and after a moment’s hesitation, bows his head. ]
If any soul could offer assistance in this matter, I thank thee kindly.
Name: Madi
Age: 23
Contact:
Game Cast: N/A
Character Information:
Name: Sir Mandorallen, the Baron of Vo Mandor (alternatively, the Bastard of Vo Mandor)
Canon: David Eddings’ The Belgariad (book series)
Canon Point: Roughly midway through Book 4, Castle of Wizardry; during the party’s stay at Riva, after Garion’s coronation
Age: 29
Reference: http://davideddings.wikia.com/wiki/Mandorallen
there are also some good excerpts from various TV Tropes pages that do an excellent job of shedding light on his character; since I can’t link to those sections specifically I’ll link to the page and also paste the excerpt for ease of reading
from http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/KnightInShiningArmor:
Sir Mandorallen from David Eddings' Belgariad saga (and its sequel, the Malloreon saga) is a textbook example of the Knight in Shining Armor; he embodies this trope, both outwardly and inwardly. Complete with a tragic chivalric love-from-afar affair. Eddings lampshaded the heck out of the trope, though: Mandorallen is heroic, brave and fearless, unbeaten in combat, honorable, truthful, and so on and so on. The first time in his life that he suddenly felt real fear (when he faced a magical opponent that he couldn't defeat) let to a kind of nervous breakdown, a self-doubt of epic proportions during which Mandorallen developed phobophobia, a paralyzing fear of being afraid. He eventually got over it, with the help of his friends. The other characters routinely tended to poke gentle fun of Mandorallen's utter dedication to chivalry. People who met him for the first time kept asking "Is this guy for real?" and "Did he really just charge the enemy? He's going to die!" - "No he isn't. He's Mandorallen."
• Everything you need to know about Mandorallen is summed up in this exchange from Castle of Wizardry, wherein Mandorallen is escorting the Rivan Queen out to the center of a field to address over fifty thousand heavily-armed, potentially hostile soldiers during avery tense diplomatic stand-off. It's important to note that Mandorallen is speaking here with absolutely no irony whatsoever.
Mandorallen: We are some distance from our own forces, your Majesty. I pray thee, be moderate in thine address. Even I might experience some difficulty in facing the massed legions of all Tolnedra.
from http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Belgariad:
Badass:
• Just about every member of Garion's True Companions except Ce'Nedra could be tagged as this, plus quite a few other characters. Mandorallen is the standout, though, a man who's got himself firmly convinced that he's invincible; who once crushed a lion unarmed (not unarmored, but still). Mandorallen's character can be summed up in one line. And note, he's not joking.
• Mandorallen: We are some distance from our own forces, your Majesty. I pray thee, be moderate in thine address. Even I might experience some difficulty in facing the massed legions of all Tolnedra.
• Mandorallen's badassery is summed up like this: One of Mandorallen's countrymen, who's still fighting a civil war against Mandorallen's side of the political fence and the animosity is so thick that both sides have said things like "He is Asturian, so he is a knave by definition!" and have a staggering power of reinterpreting reality inside their head, admitted that while he hates Mandorallen, he acknowledges there's no way he'll lose when he challenges a bunch of other knights, and says Mandorallen is the most feared man in all of Arendia. Mandorallen's prowess in combat is so awesome it cuts across the political borders where blind, foaming-at-the-mouth, us-vs-them patriotism is the standard tone of discussion.
◦ To add real weight to that statement it should be noted that ALL Arends are difficult to scare, treat all life like really bad romantic poetry, and will pledge their lives to anyone in need without a second thought. Therefore inspiring even basic fear into them is very difficult.
• It should, however, be mentioned that Mandorallen is not overly burdened with intelligence, and so his judgement in the above example (with the legions) may be suspect.
Setting: The setting of The Belgariad is rather complex at a glance. It is at its heart a very traditional medieval fantasy setting, drawing heavily on medieval Europe for inspiration (particularly when it comes to Arendia, Mandorallen’s homeland), and the technology and society is roughly equivalent to that. A form of sorcery exists -- known as the Will and the Word -- but most of its remaining practitioners are thousands of years old, and for the most part, the people of the world regard sorcery as a fiction.
THE QUEST FOR THE ORB
According to local lore, their world has been around for at least several thousand years. It is governed by a pantheon of several gods, most of whom claimed a nation of people for his own and became the patron god of that people. The sole exception was the eldest god Aldur, who dwelt alone but, very sparingly and in the early years of the world, took on a handful of men as disciples and taught them the Will and the Word. The first of these men was Belgarath, a world-renowned sorcerer of legend who is at present approximately seven thousand years old.
At one point Aldur took up an ordinary rock and upon his touch, it became an enchanted item with a living will of its known. It became known as the Orb of Aldur and possessed great power. However, the god Torak, whose people were the Angaraks, became jealous and lusted after the Orb; he stole it from Aldur and used it to crack open the world, splitting the continent in two, with most of the Gods’ peoples to the west, and the others to the east. However, when Torak raised the Orb against the earth, it lashed out at him and burned half of his face and the hand that held it. Despite the fact that he could not make the Orb submit to his will, he kept it for a couple thousand years, until Belgarath lead Cherek, king of Belar’s people, and his sons to take it back. Because the Orb would only submit to the will of one who was pure of heart, and would burn any other who touched it, the Orb was given to Cherek’s youngest son Riva, who was pure, and his line would protect the Orb.
Years later, Torak waged war upon the West in an effort to retrieve the Orb. His war culminated in a final battle at Vo Mimbre in Arendia, during which Torak was directly confronted by Brand, the Rivan Warder. With the help of the Orb embedded in his shield, he was able to defeat Torak, putting him into what was basically a coma, and he would not rise until certain events came into place in the future. Many years later, the Orb would be stolen again by Torak’s agents, setting in motion a course of events that would prove to be very significant. The universe in The Belgariad had a specific Purpose from its inception, and when Torak split the earth with the Orb, the natural order of things was thrown askew, and the Purpose split into two distinct possibilities. These two possibilities are also known as Prophecies, both of them leading up to a single Event that, depending on its outcome, would either correct the Purpose of the universe and set it again on its right path, or would continue to send it astray and lead to the eventual destruction of the universe. Mandorallen is a part of the party that follows the former, the Prophecy of Light, and he plays the prophesied role of Knight Protector on this quest. He and the other members of the party following the Prophecy of Light, led by Belgarath, his daughter Polgara, and Garion, the lost heir to the Rivan throne, embark on a quest to retrieve the Orb and set right the Purpose of the universe.
ARENDIA
Mandorallen is from the nation of Arendia, one of the kingdoms of the West, and the Arends’ patron god is Chaldan. Chaldan holds pride, honor, and militaristic tradition as the most important virtues, and as a result, Arendia is widely known as one of the most war-torn nations in the world. Civil war is basically their national pastime, and it has been going on for thousands of years.
The nation of Arendia is written almost as a parody of European medieval society, particularly feudal society, and it has a distinctly Arthurian flavor. Feudalism and serfdom run strong in Arendia even in current times. The Arends are extraordinarily concerned with honor, nobility, and saving face, and they tend to have a flair for the dramatic. Torrid, tragic romance tales are common entertainment in Arendia, and they relish in that sort of heartbreaking tragedy. They are also notoriously dense at times, as the nation as a whole seems to be wholly lacking in common sense. Arends are often described as being incredibly noble but not very bright, and that original thoughts rarely enter their minds. Arends as a whole are easily described as acting first and then realizing the consequences much later. Arends take almost everything said to them at face value and are quick to act, often in the defense of someone’s honor. Unfortunately, as a result, this tends to lend itself to lots of violent conflicts, often on a large scale.
Arendia originally contained three duchies which were the major ruling forces of the nation: Vo Mimbre, Vo Asturia, and Vo Wacune. Arendia has been lost to the throes of civil war for about as long as their history can remember, and the largest casualty of that war, by far, has been Vo Wacune -- over the course of the war, the Wacite Arends have been totally killed off, and Vo Wacune lies in ruins. Vo Astur does, as well; however, the Asturian Arends are alive and well. After the Battle of Vo Mimbre, Belgarath and Polgara made the heirs of the Asturians and the Mimbrates intermarry in order to bring about the end of their nonstop civil war. As a way to reinforce the union of these two peoples, every subsequent king and queen of Arendia take the names Korodullin and Mayaserana, the names of the first heirs to marry after the Battle of Vo Mimbre, and there is quite a bit of inbreeding in the royal family to keep things close, which also results in them being rather sickly.
Although the civil war ended officially well over a thousand years ago, the truth is that Arendia is far from restored -- the kingdom is ruled from Vo Mimbre, and though there are still Asturian nobles about, they are treated with very little respect. Tensions between Mimbrates and Asturians still run high, and Asturians as a whole are treated poorly by the crown, particularly because most of the people serving it are Mimbrates. Although the serfs serving these nobles are largely indifferent to such matters, Mimbrate and Asturian nobles frequently attack one another -- Mimbrates will murder Asturians in cold blood and then claim, afterward, that they had mistaken them for highway robbers or bandits, and likewise, Asturians often strike at Mimbrates from the trees with their bows with the aim of killing them. Some Asturians have even gone so far as to construct plots to take down the crown and restore order to the nation, though none have succeeded thus far.
Mimbrate society is particularly Arthurian compared to the rest of Arendia. It is populated, in the upper classes, by armored knights on horseback and ladies in elaborate gowns who pine after them. Life at court is central to Mimbrate society, and they are incredibly concerned with honor and nobility. Mimbrates employ a rather archaic mode of speech which sets them apart from their Asturian brothers, full of thees and thous and forasmuches, which much of the world finds stiff and even pretentious. Mimbrates make up the majority of those serving at court, and the knights who serve the king as vassals have their own land and people, mostly serfs, to look after.
Personality: Mandorallen is very much a product of his culture; he is the absolute soul of an Arend, and an almost archetypical example of a Mimbrate. He employs the typical archaic speech of Mimbrate Arends, even when he is angry or upset. He is proud, noble, and chivalrous, and overly concerned with his own honor; he has sort of a grave manner about him, and though he has occasion to be lightly humorous, he is overall rather straight-faced. Mandorallen is rather concerned with his own self-perfection, as a point of pride and nobility, and when he felt fear for the first time, it greatly wounded his pride. Mandorallen, growing up, had never experienced fear, and has generally never considered human opponents as being very threatening in combat. However, the first time he fought a supernatural being he was struck to the core with fear, and then for some time lived in perpetual fear of that fear returning -- he became phobophobic. At the suggestion of a friend to laugh in the face of fear, he has the tendency to ride into battle while laughing to himself; it seems to help, although he is still rather concerned with proving himself not to be a coward.
That said, though, he is very confident when it comes to facing human opponents, which seems at odds with his phobophobia. He is a pacifist as far as Arends go, but he definitely seems to enjoy violence on an individual scale -- he has the tendency to be a little overeager when it comes to battle, but he retains his composition. His towering overconfidence when it comes to facing human opponents means that he appears to make light of dangerous situations in his own way. With good reason, though; Mandorallen’s name is widely known in Arendia for his prowess in combat, and few are eager to challenge him. However, it is due in part also to his typically Arendish lack of common sense; it seems that Mandorallen does not even recognize his own human limits at times. Also, since honor and pride are so important to Arends, he is often willing to forsake his own safety for those ends. He is motivated greatly by honor and purpose; Mandorallen is definitely a man who needs a purpose to his life.
However, despite his eagerness to violence, Mandorallen is not a cruel or bitter person. Rather, it is a very Arendish tendency; it is largely that most matters of issue in Arendia are settled by duels or contests of strength and so it is Mandorallen’s first thought when a conflict arises. However, he is incredibly sincere and self-sacrificing, and is genuinely concerned for the well-being of those he cares about.
Upon learning of his location, Mandorallen would consider it a chance for self-improvement, even taking that notion on as his task, especially in light of his relatively recent internal crisis with regards to fear. He would be concerned about his companions going on without him, but upon learning that time is not moving without him back home, he would be greatly comforted and would be able to conduct a day-to-day life without feeling a crushing sense of guilt. Mandorallen may even find his ways of thinking broadened by his stay on Tu Vishan, as well, as he interacts with people from different worlds.
Appearance: PB: Goran Visnjic http://chthonian.broken-boats.net/goran%20visnjic/000b.png
Not much description is given of Mandorallen in canon. He is described as a white man of medium height with dark, curly hair and blue eyes. Arends in general are described as being shorter, stockier, and darker-skinned than the peoples father to the north, so it is fair to assume that Mandorallen is as well.
Abilities: Mandorallen’s abilities are all within the bounds natural human ability, but they are somewhat remarkable nonetheless. He is exceptionally skilled in combat and his name is widely known in Arendia for it, especially when it comes to one-on-one combat. He is proficient with both lance and broadsword, and he is known for his exceptional skill when it comes to jousting. Although he is not astoundingly bright, he is a decent strategist, although much of his strategy relies heavily on his own perceived strength and undefeatability. He is also exceptionally learned in the ways of high society; Mandorallen has spent his fair share of time at court, and he understands the intricacies of court manners and the towering importance of honor and saving face as though it were second nature to him. He is surprisingly adept at navigating delicate social situations as are common among the nobility, and has a typically Arendish knack for being obtuse and roundabout in his speech when the situation calls for it.
Inventory: Full mail suit and blue surcoat; broadsword
Suite: Earth, 2 floors -- Mandorallen would feel more at home with the suites here; the stone buildings will remind him rather a lot of home. He’s used to spacious rooms in medieval-style castles, and as a man of nobility, he’s also accustomed to having rather a bit of space.
In-Character Samples:
Third Person: The room had fallen deadly quiet at the clatter of Mandorallen’s gauntlet upon the stone floor. It lasted for only a moment, however, and then a hushed rumble of voices began to course through the crowd, some aghast, some amused, and some flat-out befuddled. Behind Mandorallen, Barak let out a sigh. Mandorallen, however, appeared to take no notice, his focus entirely on the bearded man before him. He was filled with a kind of livid, seething sense of justice, his chest drawn up high as he glowered at the man. The nerve this bearded buffoon had, to deliver unseemly insults to the women in his company -- he would defend their honor with his sword, and prove this man’s folly in blood.
“Wilt thou rise to my challenge?” Mandorallen asked loftily. “Or art thou too craven to defend thy words with thy body?” There was an expectant tone to his voice, and when a beat passed without answer, he grew confused. His challenge was clear enough -- and honestly, it wasn’t a terribly difficult decision. Fight or be proved a coward -- Mandorallen could not understand why the man simply stared back at him, eyebrows knit. Mandorallen had never heard of a challenge going unanswered for quite so long in Arendia; and almost always they were accepted, for a man of true honor would refuse to be proven a coward. Mandorallen frowned, leaning forward just a bit.
“Well?” he prompted again. “Art thou a coward, sir, or wilt thou defend thy wicked words?”
Barak leaned forward and murmured to him, “We don’t have that custom in Cherek, friend. If you feel like running your sword through a man, you don’t waste any time asking permission.”
Mandorallen looked stricken, and his armor creaked slightly as he twisted his neck to look back at his comrade. He was obviously troubled -- Alorn nations were so more up-front and direct than he was used to, having grown up in Mimbrate society, and the news that his challenge was worth little in this nation was difficult to swallow. “That seemeth rather barbaric, my friend. Dost thou never first warn thine opponent?”
Barak shrugged. “The sound of a sword being drawn’s usually warning enough.”
Considering this new information, Mandorallen turned back to his would-be opponent and squared his shoulders. He found it troubling that Chereks practiced violence upon one another with so little decorum, and flexibility in thinking was generally not his strong point, but after a long moment’s consideration, he decided with a certain resignation that he had little choice but to indulge in the local custom.
“Very well, then. If thou wilt not retrieve my gauntlet, then I suppose I have no choice,” Mandorallen said with a bit of a sigh to his voice. His face was serious, but he felt a little flicker of excitement leap in his chest as he drew his broadsword, the metal scraping against the inside of the scabbard. “Prepare thyself then, good sir, for I shall prove thy folly upon thy body!”
Network: [ Mandorallen has opted for video for his first post, because while he’s figured out how to use the keyboard, the notion of using it still mystifies him somehow. ]
Greetings, fair people. I thought perhaps I could trouble thee with a question of mine own. I was garbed in mail on mine arrival, and, as I had feared, my time in the water hath set it to rusting. Doth any man know of a sturdy armorer or blacksmith who might thusly be capable of mending it? The damage doth run deep, I fear, and I must confess that I feel naked striking out without its cool weight upon my breast.
[ He smiles, a bit vacantly, into the video feed, and after a moment’s hesitation, bows his head. ]
If any soul could offer assistance in this matter, I thank thee kindly.