———   GENERAL

NAME  : kadri maedhros aerion TITLE : hand of the queen of celesta and lord of marumia AGE :  two hundred and fifty- three SPECIES : fae  ( seer ) GENDER : cis man  PRONOUNS : he/him SEXUAL ORIENTATION : bisexual BIRTHPLACE : marumia RESIDENCE  : branholm

———   RELATIONSHIPS

FATHER : tba* MOTHER : tba*  SIBLINGS : tba*  ALLIES : tba ENEMIES : tba * ( leaving room for initial plotting )

———   PERSONALITY

LABEL : the sage TAROT : the hermit ALIGNMENT : lawful good POSITIVE (+) : sincere — dedicated — compassionate — wise — patient NEGATIVE (-) : reserved — stoic — calculating — reclusive — soft spoken

———   HISTORY

he was born into the first generation of fae to experience the world after the war of twilight. a first born son with all the expectations of the world laid on tiny shoulders. as a childling, kadri was precocious at best, quiet and unassuming-- which made it easier for him to be overlooked by the adults around him. at first, there was the encouragement for him to go on- to entertain himself or find other fae children to play-- but kadri always felt the most comfortable in the company of those older and wiser folk, listening to how they spoke- the subjects of which they discussed and the manner in how it was all said- and absorbing all of it. he learned that if he were still and quiet enough, that adults tended to ignore or even forget his presence there and would speak more freely.

whenever he was noticed and quickly shooed off from underfoot, he would hide in his father's study. curled up and surrounded by tomes that recounted ages of histories, myth, and magic, he would devour them-- from the large leather bound books that had been as large as his chest ( gifts or spoils from transvania after the war ) to scrolls no longer than the length of his pointer finger that were as thin as a bee's wing. his tutors praised his curiosity and thirst for knowledge, encouraging that spark by entertaining every question that came to his mind-- and kadri had been filled with questions, content to discuss them with those older and wise folk and eager to find out the answers for himself, examining every possible side of everything, constantly seeking the truth and challenging those that accepted certain truths as absolutes.

there came a time though when his presence was required more and more frequently outside of the study, a father lord going through the motions to teach his firstborn how to one day take his place and the weight that had been set on those shoulders was starting to anchor him. he was still young when he was introduced to the court of the fae queen- a young nobleman with soft doe eyes and a quiet but questioning tongue- and there was a time where kadri is sure his parents despaired at his prospects. he had little interest in court politics, in becoming friendly with certain fae because of who their family or their positions within the queen's court, particularly when there seemed to be this feeling of underlying motive behind every smile.

it's no surprise he turned out a seer-- that gut deep intuition that had made him seem aloof turning into flashes of the future, almost like a spyglass opening in his mind and peeking out into time. at first, it was a mild annoyance and then almost a hindrance; a power that he had no interest in honing, if only for how there was almost this eagerness in those around him when it became something he couldn't hide. kadri wasn't ignorant to how valuable his gift was but the fear of it being manipulated by those around him had him fighting to suppress it-- to ignore it for as long as he possibly could.

as he grew older, he pursued studying law and turned his focus to helping those that weren't surrounded by opulence and plenty. for a while, he earned himself a bit of a reputation among his fellow nobility for being a class traitor; among the lesser fae, he hopes he was at least seen as someone who was on their side. he took on cases that were seen as hopeless, constantly pursing the truth at every turn, no matter whose wings it would ruffle. among certain circles, he made himself quite unpopular and earned quite a few enemies.

it was during this time that under gentle encouragement from a trusted friend who shared his passion for helping that he started to spend more time focusing on his gift, on learning to control and use it. of course, learning to see and interpret the future is a lifelong journey that led kadri to seek guidance from others who could guide and teach him. the mental load grew heavier as he started to open that spyglass in his mind, trying to tap into that well of power inside of him that he had ignored for decades while also pursuing that passion for helping people navigate the law and the system. he struggled quietly- upholding that quiet intensity in public, defending those at the mercy of a system that did not always serve them while also doing everything he could to shed light on any corruption in that system, dismantling it brick by brick, encouraged by the future he could peek at that told him that it could be done.

he was still young by fae standards when he was given the honor of being chosen for the queen's small council. the position of master of laws took that passion for the truth and justice to the main stage and while he no longer had time for defending those at mercy of the law, he could now at least ensure that the law was just. for a century, he held his position, working with the rest of the council to ensure celesta's growth and prosperity-- for all her citizens.

it was four years ago when the previous hand of the queen was caught in conspiracy with spies from nyxen and upon their removal, kadri was named hand of the queen-- a move he never saw coming. as the threat of the nocturnlae grows, he knows that there are going to be moves made by all three kingdoms-- at the end of the day, his only concern is for celesta and in protecting her and her people and her queen.

———   QUICK FACTS (TDLR;)

first born son to the lord of marumia who has big nerd energy

like didnt want to engage in the bridgerton antics of court when he was younger

[hamilton vc] I FINISHED UP MY STUDIES AND I PRACTICED LAW

basically became a public defender and earned himself a handful of enemies by challenging powerful people. lowkey a people's champion in the courthouse

a seer fae who at first was gonna try and ignore his powers but eventually was like 'gotta learn this shit'

[hamilton vc] I PRACTICED THE LAW I PRACTIC'LY PERFECTED IT! I'VE SEEN INJUSTICE IN THE WORLD AND I CORRECTED IT!

when he was 150 he was named master of law and held that title for nearly a century

was named hand of the queen four years ago when the previous hand of the queen was caught working with spies for nyxen

———   GENERAL

NAME  : aleksei rian frey TITLE : assassin to the halliard family AGE :  thirty-three SPECIES : human GENDER : cis man  PRONOUNS : he/him SEXUAL ORIENTATION : bisexual BIRTHPLACE : valachia RESIDENCE  : valachia

———   RELATIONSHIPS

FATHER : damien frey † MOTHER : naena frey SIBLINGS : aleksandr 'sasha' frey † ALLIES : varian halliard ( lover ) ENEMIES : mikhail volkov

———   PERSONALITY

LABEL : the rogue TAROT : the hanged man ALIGNMENT : chaotic neutral POSITIVE (+) : charismatic — mindful — attentive ( to detail ) — discrete — loyal NEGATIVE (-) : reckless — relentless — sarcastic — brusque — reserved

———   HISTORY

looking back at his childhood, it's a wonder he turned out the way he did. the second son to a dedicated guard for the halliard family and a local seamstress, aleksei had been born in love and raised in it. his father was tall and strong, his mother was kind and gentle, and his older brother was the best of both of their parents and just a half step away from god in the younger's eyes. he'd always been half a step behind aleksandr- sasha as he was affectionately called- shorter legs constantly churning to catch up with him.

he'd been small for his age with a mouth that seemed to think he was much bigger. he ended up knocked on his ass more times than he could count until he learned he could outrun other children his age by three strides. there was a streak of almost reckless fearlessness in aleksei during childhood, always the one who was willing to 'go first'- the first to climb, the first to jump. a true wild child.

the wildness never left but it changed as he got older. sasha left to join the army the summer before he turned eighteen, leaving aleksei to go through the growing pains of adolescence alone. he stretched as he grew up- testing every boundary, every limit-- more often than not to the exasperation of his parents. there was expectation now that he was growing, a path set before him by a father who told him ( with love, everything was with love ) that he had to have some sense of purpose otherwise he'd float right away; sasha had been as steady and solid as the earth and aleksei had always been one good gust of wind from flying away and their father wanted to keep his youngest from wandering aimlessly.

when a letter delivered by a guard from the keep brought the news that sasha had been killed by a rogue vampire along the border, the home changes. his father doesn't laugh and his mother stops singing and aleksei grows angry. that anger lashes out against those that love him most- parents that cling all the tighter to the son they have left- all but dragging him to that life path of following in his father's footsteps to serve and protect the noble family. it's a path he finds himself starting- reluctantly- when his father grows sick and the house grows all the more quiet after aleksei buries him. his mother becomes a shell of who she was, sad eyes that stare out the window.

he tries for her, he does-- he cares for her and trains to take his father's place along the wall, day in and day out. aleksei had never been one to easily submit to authority— to fall in line and follow orders blindly— not when his mind could work so much faster and he could think of at least three other options that would work and work better. it lasts for months and the feeling of the walls ever closing in on him becomes too much-- and he leaves. it's something he thinks back on with great shame and even though his mother has forgiven him and told him that 'it's forgotten', he knows he'll never forget that rock of guilt and how it had felt so heavy the day he left. no real destination in mind, aleksei just had to get out of that track.

he makes his way by picking the pockets of those clearly more fortunate than he and by chance happens to stumble into the thieves guild though he's certain lady fate had been keeping a close eye on him. for a few years he makes his way as a petty thief- it's a far cry from an extravagant lifestyle but that time of his life is colored by bacchanalia, a wild freedom he hadn't known before.

but still there's that desire for more. it wasn't enough to make it by on picking pockets, he had to go for bigger targets-- bigger paydays that took him beyond the city of valachia and throughout the kingdom of transvania. fate is a funny thing and the lady certainly has a sense of humor because just as he was starting to make himself a name in a the cat burglary world, he picked the pocket of a man who would change the trajectory of his life. his name was mikhail volkov and aleksei could ( and would ) tell you all sorts of things he theorized mikhail saw in him in that moment but in truth, he couldn't tell you what he saw-- but he promised bigger paydays than aleksei had ever managed to get with thievery.

he was still a boy struggling like hell to make it into manhood when mikhail started to train him. when mikhail found him, he hadn’t grown out of his resistance to authority- something his previous employer had found entertaining and amusing- but he quickly learned that mikhail had no tolerance for impudence and no patience for outright disobedience. 

aleksei— for all his faults— was a fast learner, driven by a need to prove he was something more than ordinary. mikhail taught him how to bleed and how to make others do the same, taught him how to take life without remorse. everyone has a bounty on their head, it was just a matter of making sure you got there before someone else— and avoiding letting your own contract come up for grabs. he spent years working under mikhail, working his way up in the ranks, ever fueled by that desperate need to prove himself— and the money wasn’t half bad. his focus turned to poisons- the different plants and concoctions from across the kingdom that could loosen a man’s tongue or take him down with nothing more than a drop. 

( TRIGGER WARNING: IMPLIED CHILD DEATH ) it was a job in branu— two warring merchant families, each taking contracts out on the other. he’d gotten greedy, playing the two against each other with that wolfish grin and when the sun rose on the seaside, both families had been slaughtered. there’s something about ending a family’s line completely that changes a man and while in the moment, his eyes had been veiled with the focus of an accomplished killer that saw nothing more than targets- contracts to fulfill— but in the light of day, no amount of scrubbing could wash away the blood from his hands and no amount of prayer to whatever god was listening could remove the mark on his soul from taking purely innocent lives.  it became a horror too terrible to bear and instead of returning with the coin he’d collected from the contracts, aleksei fled back to the only place he thought he could escape mikhail's wrath: he went home.

tail tucked between his legs and back in valachia after over a decade of wandering, aleksei appealed to lord halliard for sanctuary and employment. the loyalty that his parents had raised him in was fierce and if there were ever a cause to throw himself to that might absolve him for his past sins, it was to devote himself to the warden family that had cared for his the whole of his life. his skills and training made him useful and he became a blade for the halliard, working in the shadows to protect and defend the noble family from those that would try and harm them in the dark. 

coming home had been a fresh start and in that fresh start was varian. he'd always been there of course; they had been boys together, growing from knobby knees to broad shoulders- closer than brothers. they kept in close contact with one another even when their paths led them far from valachia- varian to his service with the military, bringing honor to his family and aleksei to the crooked path of theft and murder that would've shamed his mother to death if he ever told her the extent of it- writing letters over the span of years to each other.

it wasn't something he planned on-- in fact, for a long while, it was something he actively tried to fight against. his oldest friend, the only person who truly knew aleksei- 'warts and all' as his father would say- and still looked at him as if there were something good in him, something worth loving. and aleksei has loved varian a thousand different ways- as a subject loves a good lord, as a friend loves a friend, as a brother loves a brother, as a bard loves a ballad, as a poet loves a muse. it's something that has always felt fragile, something precious to be guarded-- something that's been for just them.

aleksei has been in the employ of the halliard family for nearly four years now and his devotion to the warden family is stronger now than it was when he first arrived, begging for asylum and purpose outside of killing for coin— which, of course, is still part of the deal but there’s the underlying deeper purpose that drives him forward and turns his eyes towards loftier goals. his eye has been on the master assassin position within the king’s small council though he remains rooted in the service of the family that had for all intents and purposes, saved him from himself. and for now, he’s content with that. 

———   QUICK FACTS ( TLDR; )

typical second child-- wild as hell, what my coworker would call 'a bad baby'

had an older brother named sasha that he adored/idolized that died when aleksei was a teenager while sasha was serving in the transvanian military

spends a while in the thieves guild before meeting mikhail volkov who takes him under his wing/mentors him into becoming an assassin

he's like. really good at killing people. [ hairflip ]

got really into poison bc while he can get his hands dirty, he can do so much More with poison like the possibilities are endless

took on a job where he took on the role of a butcher and ended two bloodlines and that can fuck a dude up if he dwells on it long enough.

[ steve miller band vc ] ooooooh took the money and ran

ends up appealing to lord halliard for sanctuary ( hiding from mikhail ) and lands a job as the assassin for the noble family

has been kicking it in that job for about four years now and is content but [ angelica schuyler vc ] he's never satisfied and is always looking for the next leg up he can get.

aleksei lowkey was super into the idea of being a bard when he was a kid. he has a worn gusli that he carries with him and sometimes uses as a disguise when he needs to move around in public without being known-- he can play most stringed instruments. dudes got a natural ear for music

has more aliases than i have throwaway email accounts

bc of that natural ear, he's v good at disseminating where people hail from and is incredibly good at imitating dialects and accents

he's a gemini. im sorry.

his favorite flavor is mint. lowkey always has that hint of mint about him bc the fucking maniac chews mint/peppermint leaves. this man would go absolute apeshit on some andes mints

incredibly fast thinker who happens to be incredibly paranoid. his brain is a super fun place to be

———   GENERAL

NAME  : soren mara TITLE : vampire hunter AGE :  forty-two SPECIES: dhampir  GENDER : cis man  PRONOUNS : he/him SEXUAL ORIENTATION : bisexual BIRTHPLACE : branu RESIDENCE  : valachia

———   RELATIONSHIPS

FATHER : unknown vampire ( biological ) ; aman mara ( step - father ) MOTHER : quena mara   SIBLINGS : two younger sisters ( human )  ALLIES : tba  ENEMIES : tba

———   PERSONALITY

LABEL : the prodigal son TAROT : the tower ALIGNMENT : true neutral POSITIVE (+) : amiable — quickwitted — steadfast — honest — — diligent NEGATIVE (-) : cold — irreverent — aloof — dry — blunt

———   HISTORY

( TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of SA/r*pe ) soren was not brought into the world through any joyous union. there had been a quiet attack on the village in branu- vampires that had made it past transvania's borders that had used the cover of night to slip through open windows to drink their fill and leaving entire families dead in their beds. one of the windows that one of the faceless vampires had slipped through happened to belong to the woman who would be his mother and under the thrall of the vampire, he was created and his mother spared death. the vampires were found and slaughtered- the only way to deal with monsters-- and his mother went on to marry the man that would become his father before her stomach had begun to swell.

when it became clear that soren was not his father's son, most expected aman mara to disown him; thank the gods ( old and new ) that he didn't but there was always a distance between father and son that as a small child he couldn't understand. aman never disowned him but kept soren at arm's length, there always being this flicker of disgust at the vampire part of the boy.

his mother loved him all the more fiercely, as if she could make up for the hate in his father's eyes and raised him with a guilt neither of them should've been made to bear, instilling in him that the only way to assuage that guilt was penance, service to others; somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought if she could nurture the desire to help his fellow man, he could grow in that human spirit and atone for the monstrous part of him that he never asked for. she sent him to help with planting when the earth warmed and harvesting when the air grew cool and to chopping firewood when the snows piled high.

as it became more apparent what he was, there were few opportunities in which he could perform that service-- and more and more people who looked on him with that same hate he saw reflected in his father's eye. he learned too young the hate that can lie in mens hearts when faced with something Other and the one time he dared to fight back, he was punished severely by the man he called father. his mother soothed his bruised ego and aching body by telling him that he wasn't to raise a hand against any human-- his hand was only to raise in defense of mankind against the monsters from nyxen. she encouraged him to pray- to gods new and old- to guide him in humility and charity, propping him up as some sort of paladin; a defender of mankind.

a nice story for a boy to hold onto when faced with the ugly truth after his sisters were born- both beautiful and whole, blessedly human- and his father's disdain had grown all the more apparent when a teenaged soren had to carry him home from the tavern, celebrating the newest blessing to their house. it was the first time that anyone had outright told him the truth to his parentage-- told him what he was.

he had been angry- angry at his mother for not telling him that he was half of the monsters she had spent his entire life warning him of, angry at his father and those in the village for their hateful gaze when he had spent that entire life doing everything he could to try and atone for a sin he was unaware he had committed-- a sin of being born as he was. the only one who had ever looked at him with pure, unselfish and unadulterated love had been the little sister that had first graced the house with her laughter and the newborn who didn't know how to hate anyone-- but they weren't enough to keep him there. in his mind he justified that they would grow up better- safer, more endeared- without him there.

he was sixteen when he ran away from home, traveling from the small village in branu with no real destination in mind, resorting to stealing when what little coin he had left with dwindled, sleeping in stables and barns. he'd been traveling for the better part of the year when he finally met another dhampir-- a vampire hunter. soren had watched from the crack in the wooden stable wall as the man clashed against the vampire, fighting like two demons until one stood, drenched in the vampire's blood. he followed the man as he left the village, thinking himself quite stealthy until about 5 miles outside of the town when the dhampir called back if he was going to join him or not. and with an offer like that, who was he to say no?

he trained for years under the dhampir's tutelage, learning how to fight and kill the vampires that dared to cross the border into transvania. during his travels with the dhampir, he met others like him- those who had been brought into this world monstrous who were using that power to protect the humanity that would never accept them. it took several years to break the mentality that it was something to atone for-- and admittedly, there are times when those thoughts and that old guilt still creep up on him.

soren wouldn't return home until the baby that had been barely born when he left was nearing adulthood; part of him wanted to go back to see if he had been right in leaving, if it really would've given them a leg up in the world-- and maybe, hoping that his absence would've caused some level of pain for the family, if only to know that he was missed. when his mother's face stared at him as if he were a stranger, telling him plainly- near forcefully- that her son had died years ago and that he was not welcome had been as painful as a stake to the heart.

after that attempted homecoming, soren returned to the nomadic life of a vampire hunter and never looked back. he's linked up with several groups of hunters over the years, traveling with them for a time before moving on, never staying long enough to get too incredibly attached to any one person. in the back of his mind, the motivation is still that of the young boy who played paladin- protector of the people and weapon of god-- but in the forefront is just a man staying in business, searching for some sort of peace and not knowing where to find it.

———   QUICK FACTS ( TLDR; )

soren is a dhampir and vampire hunter

has two younger human sisters he has not seen since he was a teenager ( potential wanted connections )

not here for a long time or to make friends ( grumpy/snarky asshole needs some reluctant found family im begging )

grew up hella religious and tends to be publicly dismissive of any show of devoutness but also doesn't take his chances and will pay whatever tribute is proper

———   GENERAL

NAME  : jonah kieran zale TITLE : king's guard ( assigned to the prince ) & dragon rider AGE :  twenty-seven   SPECIES : human GENDER : cis man  PRONOUNS : he/him SEXUAL ORIENTATION : bisexual BIRTHPLACE : cardoniaRESIDENCE  : valachia

———   RELATIONSHIPS

FATHER : unknownMOTHER : tonya zale   SIBLINGS : none ALLIES : prince gabriel dragola ; dante valdinia  ENEMIES : tba

———   PERSONALITY

LABEL : the white knight TAROT : the fool ALIGNMENT : neutral good POSITIVE (+) : curious — charming — compassionate — noble — loyal — perseverant NEGATIVE (-) : stubborn — impatient — follower — exploitable — hotheaded

———   HISTORY

jonah never knew his father. his mother had been a maid for lady dahlia, one of the noble families in cardonia, when she found out she was expecting. there had been rumors, of course, among the rest of the castle's staff as to who the father could be when she could no longer hide her condition but tonya remained tight lipped. some whispers said it had to be any number of the guard-- she was young and beautiful and turned plenty of heads and of course, any friendly interaction even in passing was twisted into some flirtation. others murmured that perhaps it was some bastard child of their lord or maybe another noble passing through that had stopped to intrude upon the dahlia's generosity. lots of speculations and quiet accusations had his mother moved to kitchen staff, where she would be out of the eye of the nobility and that was where she stayed even after his entrance to the world.

it took nearly a year before anyone realized the problems with his ears. he had spent his whole life strapped to his mother's chest while she worked in the kitchens of the castle and tonya and those around her- kinder now that this mystery baby had been brought into the world, his mysterious parentage the last thing on their minds when he smiled at them- assumed that he had just grown used to the constant bustle and noise of the kitchens, it never struck them as odd that he didn't react to the loud clangs and bangs that could happen. when he wouldn't respond to his name, some of the older men would tut and laugh, saying he was just a 'selective listener, like all men' but it was the community of women in the kitchen that took the matter seriously, hands snapping fingers next to his ears for no reaction to pass over his small face. the castle's healer confirmed it- the deafness, in both ears- was first met with sympathy but tonya wouldn't entertain it.

a stable hand for the castle had a sister who worked in the village who was deaf and it was from him that tonya learned how to speak with her hands, exchanging meals or treats from the noble's kitchen for lessons in the stable for herself and the toddler jonah was becoming. she taught everyone she could- showing those who worked in the kitchen with her how to shape and move their hands in order to talk with the little boy who had begun exploring the kitchen on fast legs, the guards who would stop and ruffle his curls on their way for the next watch, the butlers and maids that sneak him sweets as they came to serve each course that was sent from the kitchen. she taught him the shape of words as they left people's mouths, showing him how to hear with his ears those who couldn't speak with their hands.

as he got older and more busy under the feet of those that never stopped working in the dahlia's kitchen, she sent him out ( in hopes it would keep him out of trouble ) to the stables where the hand that had taught both of them to communicate without words could keep an eye on him. mucking stalls, picking hooves, mending ( and cleaning-- so. much. cleaning ) the saddles and bridles of the dahlia family kept him busy for a time but curiosity would inevitably have him venturing to other parts of the keep; like the smithy where he was allowed to watch ( a thick and heavy leather apron spread across his lap and covering skinned knees ) and the gardens where he was allowed to play in the dirt, pulling weeds and tending to the produce that would be gathered and turned alchemy like into the most delicious food.

eventually, he made it to where the keeps guards would train. sitting on the wooden railings of the circular pen where they would spar, he would watch with wide eyes as the sun glinted off swords they swung at each other, feet sliding and kicking up clouds of dust as they moved. his hand wrapped around a stick, he would challenge other children to mock battles, imitating the way those guards had moved their feet, how they had held the swords and swung in wide arcs. plenty of his challengers had run off with throbbing hands from where his stick-sword had whapped them good or bleeding from where that stick-sword had gotten too frenzied and he had made plenty of his own tear-filled walks to the comfort of the kitchen where his mother's face would be scrunched up in gentle frustration and her hands would snap in quiet admonishment as she cleaned his battle wounds.

when he was thirteen, he started apprenticing with the blacksmith and while he was mostly set to keeping the smithy clean or tools sharp or, the most tedious of chores, filing the patches on scullery pots, he watched with those bright eyes when the blacksmith would work on those red hot blades or buffing out the bright iron of a shield. he wasn't supposed to touch them, he knew he wasn't supposed to but find one fourteen year old boy who could resist the siren's call of fresh steel and it felt heavy in his hand but balanced and he had been behind the smithy, feet kicking up those same puffs of dust as he moved like those guards he loved watching so much, his arm ( stronger now that he had been working in the smithy for over a year ) moving in imitation of those thrusts and parries. the captain of the guard had been the one whose blade jonah had decided to play with and he hadn't heard the man when he entered the smithy, much less when he had come around the back to watch from the doorframe as jonah fought imaginary vampires and invaders. when jonah realized he'd been caught, he was certain he was in bigger trouble than he'd ever been in his life, watching as the captain's mouth moved to tell the blacksmith he would 'need to speak with the boy's mother'.

jonah left the smithy only to begin training with the new crop of young men and women who would one day replace those that protected the keep. he was younger than most of them and he was given no concession for the ears that could not hear a commander's call. at first, it seemed like he would be left behind but as time passed, the group learned to work together as a company- learning signs that they could pass down the line to one another to communicate commands, maneuvers, orders. for years he trained with them and when it was time for them to join the guard, jonah was presented with a surprising opportunity. the captain that had caught him all those years ago playing with his sword behind the smithy recommended him for the bran academy in branu, acting as his patron. his mother tried to talk him out of it, deathly afraid of her only son going off to the academy, knowing that there were many children who left to find glory only to be sent home in pinewood boxes or clay urns to their waiting families, for the first time in his life trying to use his deafness as a reason why he would not succeed. it only fueled him more to prove her wrong even though it broke his heart to leave her.

the academy brought on a new level of challenges but jonah- ever bull-headed, ever determined to prove everyone around him wrong- only let those challenges push him instead of drag him down. he left the academy bonded to his dragon- moiraine- and joined the dracovlăst, patrolling transvania's borders for three years before he was offered a place in the king's guard, assigned to the prince-- a position he took up gladly. not too bad for the deaf child of a kitchen maid from cardonia. he's been a part of prince gabriel's personal guard for about two years now.

———   QUICK FACTS ( TLDR; )

jonah is from cardonia, a bastard child to a kitchen maid for the dahlia family.

he's profoundly deaf in both ears and was taught sign language by his mother and a stable hand who worked for the same family that had a deaf sister.

was a blacksmith apprentice for a time before training as a guard for the dahlia family only to be sent to the bran academy under the patronage of the captain of the guard for the dahlia family ( potential wanted connection )

kicked ass and took names at the academy and bonded with his dragon, moiraine and left to patrol the border for a hot second before landing a spot in the king's guard. [ all i do is win by dj khaled blasts in the background ]

bc jonah is deaf he uses sign language to communicate and is able to read lips. his mother tried to teach him to verbalize but it wasn't something he had much interest in.

he's incredibly expressive with his body language-- imagine like the most cartoonish man you've ever met in real life

has the Loudest Laugh- zero volume control. like is generally pretty fucking loud just bc he's not aware of how much noise he makes

just a big himbo

he's not Dumb but he is very impressionable.