#jaaster taras

★★★★★★★★☆☆ - strength ★★★★★★★★★☆ - offense ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ - defense ★★★★★★★★★★ - speed ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ - durability ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ - accuracy ★★★★★★★★★★ - agility ★★★★★★★★☆☆ - stamina ★★★★★★★★☆☆ - teamwork ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ - stealth ★★★★★★★★☆☆ - close combat ★★★★★★★★☆☆ - bladed weapons ★★★★★★★★☆☆ - blunt weapons ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ - ranged weapons ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ - magic/aether ★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆   - traps/setups ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ - medical

Overview

Jaaster was taught to fight with a lance by his mother, who also tutored him in channeling aether through his legs to jump superhuman distances. Later in life, he trained with the Fist of Rhalgr for about a year while helping rebuilding efforts in Gyr Abania.

Until very recently, fighting for anything but necessity was a foreign concept to Jaaster, but the sparring common to the Fist made him realize that not only was he quite good at fighting, but that it could be fun with the right rules and safeguards in place. In any event, he aims to end fights quickly. It’s fun to work those muscles and show off a little, but the less time there is for someone to get hurt, the better.

When he’s in a fight, Jaaster subscribes to the “speed kills” philosophy. With his dual training and the way he’s mixed the two styles, he can hit someone from any angle very quickly, putting on bursts of inhuman speed and rebounding off nearby surfaces, or launching himself in the air and creating tiny gusts of wind to correct his course. He only fights unarmed, as well. The lance is for killing, and he never wants to walk into a fight with that kind of intent. As reliant on muscle memory and instinct as he is, and as quickly as he can move and react to things, it’s easier to leave the lance behind.

Jaaster has no ranged capabilities beyond raw blasts of aether, and those are typically limited from one end of a room to the other. He is, however, in the beginning stages of learning the Kriegstanz from a friend, so that will likely change soon.

LASTING COMBAT INJURIES?

Jaaster suffered a pretty serious break in his left leg that was later aggravated in the field, and it still bothers him from time to time even after his recovery. Even at its worst, it’s not enough to keep him from getting around, but there have been times where he’s had to pump it full of aether to compensate and act without distraction.

FIGHTING STYLE

commander /  duelist  / honorable (always in arranged fights and spars) / dishonorable / would have others do their fighting /  stealthy  / long-ranged / melee / technological / sorcery / superhuman abilities /  has fought in an illegal tourney / a lover of fighting / a hater of fighting  / cowardly /  reckless / strategic / uses underhanded tricks / renowned for their skill / trained / untrained  / keeps skills secret / won a battle / lost a battle / ruthless / merciful

TRAITS

FLAWS

moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | liar | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky

STRENGTHS

honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | focused | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | loyal

Bold - Commonplace | Italics - Occasionally

[Jaaster]

"Couldn't even look me in the eye... How is it that he became a Director?..." As per usual, her staccato monotone is absent any of the curiosity or concern that might soften this statement. But the priestess splays her fingers over the seemingly judgmental line of her mouth and continues, "...No, I shouldn't question it. The Lady Advocate knows her own people than I would on paper. It's a good position - he'll learn a lot from it."

A long silence. Finally: "...I liked his hound. Rollo. He was very - well behaved. I was afraid of my mother's - there's a wildness that never really goes away, you know... - but I can see how the respect for his weapons would extend to the people under him. Jaaster keeps him well fed. He had a good - smile."

This is said with enough awkward reluctance that you're unsure if she's speaking of Jaaster or his hound.

[Vander]

"...Hmm." Vander is not known for titheing, and his attitudes towards the dead don’t entirely seem to align with the Order’s, at surface level. But of all the things one could possibly think a priestess of the Traders would be offended by, Lux merely mutters, "...He assumed the ashkin was a friend, first."

She doesn’t elaborate, at first, instead averts her gaze and continues, "If you ignore his tendencies to bring out the worst in men of the cloth, he'd be a valuable asset to the Order. Aetherially gifted, especially now that I know he’s not just spinning stories about spirits for a lark. He'd laugh, but I think he /was/ called to the Ossuary, in a way... He’s valuable."

[But this is a question about what you /like./]

"...I've only ever seen him approach strangers with kindness and respect, regardless of the circumstances or the potential dangers. It's not just a willingness to entertain, either - it's a desire to hear someone's voice, no matter how quiet or uncertain. And that respect of his isn't merely extended to the living - either. That’s a quality that’s rarer still when one's natural inclination towards the dead is to draw back in fear. That's so --" Not Ul'dahn. Not Gridanian, either.

"I liked talking to him, alone. He had my back in front of the others in the Order - was willing to entirely provoke a kind of dangerous attention onto himself to prevent any questions about my association. He had no reason to think that I was any different - that I wouldn’t just trump up charges of necromancy and report his place of business to the Ul’dahn consulate - ...but he gave me a chance. Let me choose the subject of our first potential collaboration. Showed up without questions and without so much as flashing the edge of a knife to me. So... I do extend my trust to him - his character."

Vander

I’m pretty sure I’m growing on him. Sometimes I think he thinks I’m actually funny, I can kind of see it his expression changes by a fraction of an ilm that almost makes it looks like he’s smiling. We’re winning him over little by little.

-bonus-

Haunted haunted haunted haunted HAUNTED-- SERIOUSLY DOES THIS BOTHER NO ONE BUT ME AND RASHK?!?!

 Jaaster

Lux, about Vander: No concrete and verbalized thought - only the poring over every single conversation she’s had with him in her mind to calculate the probability that Vander has the kind of money to outright afford the outfit she’d seen him wear last. Where would the money come from? What would he do with it?

...Likely nothing he should tell her about, unfortunately.

Jaaster: “Umm...I guess she’s not really that confident, sometimes? Like, she’s really nice, but...maybe too nice?” He frowns and shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. She’s, uhh...she puts herself in the background a lot, and I don’t feel like it’s for a specific purpose. I think...she might not feel like she’s earned a place with everyone else?” He looks down. “I’m probably wrong, but...I hope she knows she’s welcome with all of us.”

Jaaster stumbled out of the hallway, hand clamped tightly over the long wound in his left side. The stitches had come loose, and not only was he bleeding again, but it hurt like fire. Something was wrong. An infection? He was on his way down to the night staff to get checked out when he saw Ayla walk in through the front door. Unthinking, Jaaster staggered her way and called out, waving his other hand to get her attention. “A-Ayla! Hey, can you help me ou-”

THUD

He stared down at Ayla’s unconscious form, mouth agape and clueless about what had happened to make her faint so. After a few moments spent fretting, Jaaster set his jaw, crouched down, and very carefully picked the bard up. As gently as he could with one hand, he positioned Ayla over his right shoulder, then began the excruciatingly slow process of navigating the stairs. Making his way down to the lower level, between the hammering drumbeats being played on (inside?) his left flank, all he could think about was how he was going to explain all of this to the night staff when he got there, and whether he’d be able to repeat that explanation to Ayla when she woke up.

Maybe he’d pass out first? That would be nice.

(Thanks for the ask, @celestialalignment!)

The crowd was abuzz as his opponent was helped back to the healer’s area, groggy and leaning hard on the bouncer’s shoulder. Jaaster, for his part, straightened up from the crouch he’d fallen into after the fight ended. He didn’t feel that bad about beating this one. Too many cheap shots. Not against the rules, but not very nice, either. Not that they helped his chances all that much in the end.

Jaaster pulled the collar of his shirt up over his head to wipe the sweat and flecks of blood away, then tugged it back down again before heading back toward the edge of the circle, where Milloux was waiting. This was where they’d been spending time as the tournament progressed - when they hadn’t been fighting, that is - commenting on individual fighters’ styles and how they might match up against them. As he walked back, there was a brief moment of discordance, and it wasn’t Mill standing there in practical attire suitable for fighting, but the Lady Advocate in full regalia. In that moment, there was an echo of the dread he’d once felt, a reminder of past encounters, past injuries, and past perceived failures. Just as quickly, though, that echo dissipated, replaced with a realization of how far he’d come. Maybe not that far, maybe not far enough yet, but he was getting better.

His ears twitched at the sound of the promoter calling out the next fight, and he grinned as he heard them introduce Thistle as the next competitor. Arriving at the edge of the circle, he slapped hands with Mill as she made her way to the center of the ring, and settled in to watch her work.

(Thanks for the ask, @snarksonomy!)

Vander:

You needed this. They deserve everything they got, and then some. You did nothing wro-

“Yes, quite. Don’t spoil the moment,” he murmured. One of the men behind him groaned pitifully, and Vander shook him hard by the collar until the noise stopped. When silence fell once more, Vander resumed dragging the man and his companion along behind him, humming idly as he made his way through the halls of the Enclave. Finally, he arrived outside the room he’d been seeking and released his hold on the poor bastards he’d hauled inside. 

As they slumped to the floor, Vander wiped a bit of errant blood from his cheek, raked his fingers through his hair, and straightened his shirt - well, what was left of it. Satisfied, he knocked loudly on the door, then offered a brilliant smile as Kowa answered. “Good evening, Director Brimaine! A pleasure as always to behold your radiance once more! Ah, yes, those two. Well, I would be thrilled to answer any questions you have, but it seemed to me that they’re rather in need of a medical professional. Personally, I never - ooh, beg pardon, yes, I’ll stand over here, that’s fine - I never rated the needs of gil-a-dozen thugs like those two over an evening with such a captivating individual, but far be it from me to judge a woman’s personal preferences. Should I go and fetch their friends, as well, then?”

Jaaster:

“One-two, step, one-two, step...”

When he’d agreed to learn the Kriegstanz from Esen, he knew there’d be dancing involved. That was the whole point, obviously. Somehow, though, it had never clicked for him just how lacking his education had been in that department. In fact, it had been so long since he’d danced the waltz with his mother as a child that, in showing Esen what he did know, he was fairly certain he’d somehow grown two left feet. Mercifully, there had only been one instance of outright laughter, when she first witnessed his fumbling recollection of the proper steps. Come to think of it, it had been kind of funny, managing to nearly trip himself in the first attempt.

But now, as the grueling process of leading Esen through half-familiar territory came to an end, he had to steel himself. As he watched Esen go through the motions of what they’d be practicing today, he realized that mastering this warrior’s dance was going to test every limit he had. It was a scary thought. Strangely, though, it wasn’t an unwelcome one.