Fantasy The Bastard’s War: Character Sheets

[Axel The Englishman]

The Bastard War:
Character Sheets
(Pleasure ensure you follow the presented template)

Name:

Image + Physical Description:

Age:

Titles and Honourifics:

Role within the Story:

Connections to the Royal Family:

History:

In-Character Sample:

Other:​

 

[MedievalFanatic2023]

Princess Rosary VII

'I only want hope for my people..."


she is frail and petite. she has icy white blonde hair and pure colored eyes that would look deep into your soul.

Age: in her early young adult stage. around 18 or 19

Titles and Honourifics: title queen/princess possibly

Role within the Story: she's the daughter of a rich royalty of the Sayans.

Connections to the Royal Family: her country is very connected with the royal families kingdom.

History:
She is the princess of Saryabia a small country bordered with the other royals kingdom. the Sayans are known to have pale skin and whitish hair because of there weather climate. they are gentle pacifist country but will only fight to defend there country and which they will only spill guts for. they are close allies with the royals country and provide safety and peace with the ideal of peace from them and nothing more.


In-Character Sample:

It may have seemed like a regular day for a regular princess but it wasn't. She was going to visit the neighboring kingdom a place she was not expecting to go. The late kings death was mandatory to go to and the princess was dressed in black ready to grieve with the guests. She hoped the treaty between them would not break because of the deceasing of the royal highness.

She got out of the carriage drawn by horseman and was greeted by a butler who took her into the room where everyone was meeting. all eyes turned to her and the room went silent. All of a sudden it bustled with women gossiping and speaking in low voices and men attempting not to get drunk off fancy wine during the farewell party to the king.

Rose went to the nearest couch and sat down attempting to make tonight as peaceful as possible her mother had pleaded her before she went here to at least try to socialize. She hated the feeling to be forced to try to fall in love but her mother worried about her she was close to being a pure fully grown woman and men seemed to like the young beautiful girls. So her mother begged her to take a chance, which was the usually mother and daughter day dream.

Maybe the prince would like her or some noble her mother seemed to always fantasize and her father would try to find someone to be betrothed to her. Nevertheless her parents tried she had an older sister who was already married off and happy who was almost in her 30s. So the likelihood of her mother having another heir was less likely and very very slim.

you will get to see more in the role-play! to be continued!
Other:[/QUOTE]

 

[Axel The Englishman]

Aston Clattenburg


Nothing stands out more in this man other than his average physical appearance. He stands at a modest 5’10” and boasts nothing more than the average physique you’d expect from an officer of the military. Regarding his facial features, his brown hair is swept and gelled into place and his beard finely trimmed down to a 5’o clock shadow. Perhaps his only defining trait would be the birthmark on his left hand’s knuckle. His choice of outfit is often his service uniform.

Age:
35 Years

Titles and Honourifics:
N/A

Role within the Story:
Aethlish Royal Air Corps Officer - Commander, Captain of the R.F.S. Goldenback

Connections to the Royal Family:
Clattenburg’s only true connection to the Royal Family of Aethland would be his contribution of service to their military.

History:
Given his position as an officer within the Aethlish military, it can be obvious that Clattenburg stems from a family of exceptional wealth. He, of course, belongs to the upper classes of society. His father was a successful ceremonial gunsmith; he himself produced an array of weaponry for the nation’s nobles to show off during social gatherings. Undoubtedly a profession that would lead to a welcomed influx of money.

Aston, however, had absolutely no intention to carry on his family’s business. It was shameful to see such devices put to impractical use, let alone know that his surname was perminantely etched into their surfaces. It was outright dishonourable. “A tool for war clearly has no other purpose. Intending to use them otherwise is embarrassing for both the consumer and the craftsman...” to quote.

Clattenburg dismissed the teachings of his father. He refused his elder’s knowledge, in fact. He desired to see the very weapons he had been surrounded by throughout his younger days to be given purpose. The military had a clear intention to do so.

Winning his father’s disapproval, Aston travelled to the capital’s Military Academy for Young Gentlemen to study the art of warfare. The scriptures he read were rich in the history of military science, from the Era of Enlightenment directly to the Age of Ascension. The experience itself was fascinating. Remarkable, in fact. But the usage of these complex instruments of war was yet to be witnessed. At the age of 18 years, Clattenburg enlisted as an officer for the Royal Navy. He served his country during mutiple conflicts, most notably participating in the famed Battle of Blackwater’s Bay.

With the formation of a new military branch, Glattenburg - along with many of his fellow sailors - were later assigned to the recently conceived Royal Air Corps to operate the newest inventions of military science: the airship. Such a thing had undoubtedly captured his attention. At no point would he argue against the wishes of his superiors. Neither did his brothers-in-arms, for that matter.

It has been 17 years since Glattenburg volunteered to serve his country. Promotion after promotion has finally awarded him with something he has always hoped for: a ship of his own - the very thing that he has given blood for.

In-Character Sample:
‘Twas a quiet day by the docks. An unfortunately sad one too. There was a gathering of some sort, bordering the coast. Glatteburg had arrived with many of his former crew mates from years before to a beach he had never even visited. Surrounded by their little crowd was a wooden casket. It was shut - nailed tight, in fact. Whoever it was, they were concealed and confined within. But Aston knew. They all knew. But none of them wanted to know.

Four young men presented themselves from the lines of black, promptly lifting the fine little coffin into a small boat common for a poor man by the sea. An aura of sobbing was now present. Fair ladies and their husbands fought against an onslaught of tears escaping their ducts. Their attempts were only futile. Their cries only grew louder as the petite craft was pushed out into the ocean, dragged away by the waves. A fine, decorated individual stood with a pistol unholstered. His aim was incoherent. His hand shook, until a man senior to him placed his palm upon his shoulder. The shaking had stopped. It was only shortly after that the pistol was discharged. The escaping round had set alight to the boat as it drifted away to the setting sun.

Aston quickly realised that he had been the one to pull the trigger. As an old friend departed to another world, a single tear journeyed down his cheek.

Other:
Glattenburg has a habit of collecting miniature figurines depicting the soldiers of Aethland. Strange, for a man who’s job requires him to serve alongside these very people.​

 

[Jess Buck]

Princess Aalie Nicole of Aethland

Aalie stands at about 5'5" and has long red hair that goes down to the nape of her back. Her eyes are a pale green that suits her pale skin. (Which tends to redden easily) She is petite and can sometimes look frail but it's all muscle. Aalie wears simple clothing compared to most royalty. She doesn't like flashy things and prefers dark colors over light ones.
Age:
22
Titles and Honorifics:
Princess of Aethland
Role within the Story:
Younger Sister to the Bastard Prince. She is fiercely loyal to him and does what she can to aid in his accent to the throne.
Connections to the Royal Family:
Princess
History:
Aalie has always been a soft spoken, and level headed girl. Always sure to observe her surroundings and situation before making any sort of decision. She has a kindheart and a strong will and is fiercely loyal to those she cares about. As a princess, it was important that she learned the etiquette and diplomatic side to ruling a kingdom. She had many lessons on how to the the perfect lady but all of them bored her to tears. She would have much rather been out learning out to sword fight like her brother. It took some serious begging and negotiating, but when Aalie was ten, she was allowed to train with a bow. She picked it up quickly and soon she moved on to daggers, then javelins, and then finally she was allowed to pick up a sword. Aalie can recount the first time she beat her instructor in a sword fight with complete accuracy. She can remember every last detail and she loves to tell the story at banquets and other such parties that are held in the palace. She is a fierce fighter and frequently participates in tournaments held at the castle.

Aalie always knew herself to be the second child to the King, the first being the Bastard Prince. She grew up very close to her half-brother and due to personality, fiercely loyal to him. At a young age nobles would talk of Aalie as heir to her father's throne and she always denied them. "My brother was born first, bastard or not he is the son of the King and is first in line for the throne." she would say. But with news of this "other heir" somewhere in Silberburgany, she was not so sure anymore. Was this man truly an heir to her father's throne? If so why didn't Aalie know about him? And if not, there would be hell to pay.
In-Character Sample:​

Aalie awoke to the sun shining on her face; the warm rays slowly brought her out of her slumber. She was greeted by a pudgy servant girl holding a stack of clean lenins. She smiled brightly at the Princess and gave her a polite curtsy.
"Good morning Your Highness. Did you sleep well?" The servant girl said. Aalie slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"As well as anyone can..." She grumbled. She hated mornings. Worst part of the day in her opinion. Why couldn't the day start at noon? She slowly got out of bed and went to the window to close the blinds. "Damn sun..."

The servant girl helped Aalie into her dress for the day before beginning on replacing the lenin's. Aalie quickly brushed out her hair and pulled some of it back with a clip before leaving the girl to do her job. She made her way down the halls to the kitchens to grab herself something to eat. She greeted the people in the hallways warmly with a smile and a nod of the head. She hoped she'd run into her brother while on her walk. She hated walking around the castle by herself. It felt so big, and lonely. Either way, she'd make it to the kitchens soon enough, and would be able to start her day.

Other:
**Just let me know if there is anything I should change**​

 

[Eshspoyeofdoom]

The Bastard War:
Character Sheet

Name:
Eleanor Addington

Physical Description:
Eleanor is quite small and frail from the outside, standing at only 5'6' and weighing a mere 55KG. She has long, dark brownish hair that goes down to the start of her torso. Her eyes, like her hair, are brown and dark. Besides her hair, eyes and lips, Eleanor is very pale and often wears monochrome colours.

Eleanor prefers to wear very modest clothing and sticks to plain, long dresses. She rarely uses any headwear and will let her hair down in private. She seldom wears any jewellery other than her treasured jade amulet, bestowed upon her at birth. For ceremonial duties, she'll wear a long white, diamond encrusted dress along with a tiara and a pear necklace. In all, she likes to keep her appearance simple and unassuming in private, but will dress beautifully in public.

Age:
32

Titles and Honourifics:
Grand Duchess of Aethland

Role within the Story:
Noble Supporter of The Forgotten Heir

Connections to the Royal Family:
Neice to The King. Grand Duchess of Aethland.

History:
Eleanor was ambitious from the very beginning. She always wanted to be higher than she already was. Having been born to The Grand Duke of Aethland, she was raised in a life of luxury amongst the Noblemen and Ladies of the Court. She was blessed with the best education and carried around a valuable amulet, rumoured to have magical properties.

After the death of her mother only a few months after Eleanor's birth, her father grew very close to her. She was adored by him the most and followed her wherever she went in her free time. Most of her extra studies were conducted by the Grand Duke himself. As a result, she adopted his 'get tough' approach to problems and embraced many of his strong views on issues within the kingdom. She was taught the inner workings of the government and the monarchy by her father, because she was going to inherit his title and continue the Royal bloodline.

Eleanor was excited by this, but also began noticing that she has a profound charm on the other noblemen who had some political power. Under the subtle orders of her father, she would often manipulate them to guide the country towards the duo's interests. This made her family very influential and strengthened the Royal family's grip on the throne. However, Eleanor wanted to go big and befriended the heir to the throne. She thought that having increasingly close ties to the Royal family will gain her influence, once the heir took the seat on the throne.

Eleanor's father died when she was only 16 and she was given the title of Grand Duchess of Aethland. Despite what many in the court thought, Eleanor was well prepared and got to work immediately. Like her father, she was a fierce nationalist/ monarchist and believed a militaristic approach to international affairs. She improved relations with countries that served Aethland well and threatened weaker but rebellious nations. She befriended many military commanders, promoting those who were well trained and loyal to the nation. She also provided large sums of money and extra donations to build up the military but hushed and threatened those in court who opposed the military build-up.

Eleanor's ambitions only grew more over the years. Keeping the royal family and the military close, Eleanor dreamed of seeing Aethland as a large empire. She knew that she can still control the throne by being the puppet-master behind the Royal Family, but her plan were foiled when the King announced that his bastard child will take the throne. Eleanor was furious, opposing the king secretly and began to slowly build her forces to support the legitimate heir. She starting to disappear from the court, keeping herself locked up in her mansion and meeting only with those she's deemed loyal.
​

In-Character Sample:

"Disgusting pig!" Eleanor shrieked as she crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it across the room. She jumped up from her seat and began to march across the hall, hurling pens from her desk and flipping chairs over, all while screaming insults and abuse to the King's name.

She'd never do that. She'd been told by her late father never to curse or speak ill of the Royal family, but she knew that he'd do the same if he was still here. A lifetime of her work destroyed by a single damned letter. After years of growing close to the old man and this is what she gets? An illegitimate to be the new nation's successor? Unspeakable.

"Excuse me, madam, is everything alright?" A kind, old man's face emerged from her study door. A butler, twice her age and served her family since she was born, calling her 'madam'. Ridiculous.

"No, everything is not alright, Charles," Eleanor scowled, biting her lip hard as she sunk to the floor, "Get...get General Klingemann on the line. The King just announced that a bastard would take his place. A bastard. Can you believe that?"

"I've never seen such a thing, even in the surrounding nations," The butler shook his head disapprovingly, "I'll get the General on the line as soon as possible."

She smiled, just a bit. Of course, the surrounding nations wouldn't dare pull off a move like that. She practically owned them, either through trade or military strong-arming. But by tradition, choosing a bastard as a heir was blasphemy. Even having a bastard was blasphemy.

She got up and put her chairs and pens backed to where they belonged. She poured herself some tea and and stared outside, taking in the landscape of rolling hills and trees dotted here and there. She slowed her breathing and took a sip of tea to calm her down. She closed her eyes and made a plan, collecting names and faces from the dustiest parts of her mind.

Other:
Theme:
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[s u n]

​

Name: Etan of Aethland

Age: 23

Titles and Honorifics: The Forgotten Heir

Role within the Story: True Heir to the throne

Connections to the Royal Family: younger son of the deceased King

History: Etan was born on foreign soil far from his parents watch and care. He would easily get into fights with other nobles in the palace and still to this day it tends to happen. As a young boy, Etan ethier admired his father or just really missed not seeing him often. In fact, Etan didn't even know the image of his father if he were to see him on the streets he wouldn't be able to distinguish him. The people surrounding him began instructing him with lessons and training, training that Etan didn't quite enjoy yet did to take his mind off of things. In too his early teens Etan slowly began to show signs of depression although he managed to hide it very well some caught a glimpse of it. Others merely shrugged it off and didn't bother to ask worsening his condition.

Etan grew up pleasing those around him and never really thought of himself, at times he was seen as childish if he were to act selfishly.

In-Character Sample: "My lord, I have terrible news." the messenger spoke in a rather different tone then he would normally speak. Causing alarm and the worst possible scenarios in the young prince's mind, "What is it?"
"It's your father...he's dead. And his new heir is his first son the bastard." the prince's worry died down but steadily came the confusion.
"He's dead? .....It's fine you know it's not like I'm still five. It's not like I'm going to be sitting up every night asking the maid when's dad coming home? Who needs him? Hey, he wasn't there to teach me how to use my first sword but I learned didn't I? Hey, I got pretty damn good at it didn't I? Got through my first day without him right? I learned how to ride, I learned how to shave, I learned how to fight without him. I had 14 great birthdays without him he never even sent me a damn gift TO HELL WITH HIM!"

Other:

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[Ms. Sparrow]

Major WIP

Name:
Leliana __________

Image + Physical Description:

Age:
22

Titles and Honourifics:
Princess

Role within the Story:

Connections to the Royal Family:

History:

In-Character Sample:

Other:​

 

[Lost]

Elend, Bastard Prince of Aethland

Spoiler: Appearance

Basic Information​

Age: 24

Appearance: Elend possesses a rather average build, standing at 5'11" with a mop of messy blond hair and dark green eyes.

Titles and Honourifics: Prince of Aethland, The Rightful King |by his allies|

Role within the Story: The Bastard Prince

Connections to the Royal Family: Illegitimate son of the King.

Biography
Born to the king and a mother he never knew, Elend was taken to the castle at an early age by his father. The monarch had his son schooled in all of the things a prince was to know, from swordplay and horseriding to diplomacy and civility. For the first few years, he was isolated from the nobles, though the young boy didn't mind. He had his sister Aalie and his tutor Bertrand, and both of them provided him a certain measure of contentment. Occasionally the king would check in on his son, a rarity the boy anticipated with much excitement.

On his twelfth birthday, his father finally decided to reveal the existence of the young prince. Elend's initial elation turned to despair the moment the court laid eyes on him. The servants and nobles had watched with a mixture of intrigue and disgust, and though the king tried his best, the young prince caught wind of what they all muttered.

"Bastard," they had said; a word foreign to the boy, though one he would come to know well. His appearance was met vastly with disdain, and though Elend rarely saw the nobles afterward, he still heard the whispers. A constant reminder that he wasn't a real prince, simply a mistake of the king.

His father tried his best to dissuade these doubts, and it worked for a time. The shock of a bastard in the court faded, and Elend even managed to make a few friends; none quite as close as his sister Aalie, however. Life was peaceful, if a tad monotonous, but the prince didn't mind. Things were looking up.

Then the king fell ill, and everything changed.

At first most were convinced the disease would run its course, and the king would be fine. None desired to believe their beloved monarch would not rise to lead another day. But as time passed, it became evident Elend's father would not recover.

The dying man, with little life left in him, gave his son one final gift: he made him his heir.

He didn't live to hear the following outcry or see the vicious divide it caused in his court. And in the center of it all was the young prince. Formerly an heir of nothing, he now found the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders.

In-Character Sample
His father was dead.

Even as Elend sat in the castle's garden, days later, it still didn't seem real. The king had been a strong man, a man of character. For many years he had led the kingdom of Aethland, guided it with wisdom and compassion. It had appeared as though his reign would never end, that the succession would never fall into question.

But things in the court were rarely as they seemed. The king had passed, and Elend was now the heir to a kingdom he had never asked for. And, with his half-brother amassing an army of his own, civil strife seemed all but inevitable.

The young prince shook his head with a sigh. "What a mess I've found myself in."

"What a mess indeed, sire," answered a gruff, tired voice. Elend stiffened at the sound and his eyes shot to the source. An old man stood at the entrance of the grove; exceedingly thin, the elder possessed a gaunt, rounded face and a head of receding grey hair that stuck up in patches. Elend couldn't help but grin at the sight.

"Bertrand, you're back! I thought you weren't due to return for another month!"

"I wasn't, sire," The servant said, a somber look on his face. "but the death of a king tends to change one's schedule." As the man finished, Elend's smile dropped, a sorrowful expression taking its place. Silence permeated the air, neither man wanting to discuss the king. His death was too recent, the wounds of his passing too fresh, for either of their likings.

After a moment Elend tore his gaze away from Bertrand's, and only then did the old man voice what they were both thinking. "I heard that he named you his heir."

"So he did."

"And this is what you want? To wage war on your brother, to take your father's place regardless of consequence?" Elend once again fell silent. Bertrand had asked a question the prince himself pondered frequently, one he had yet to find an answer to. He didn't share his half-brother's conviction that he alone deserved the throne, that he was the best option. But the king believed in him, a bastard, and that meant more than Bertrand could ever know. He met his tutor's eyes once more, a new certainty in his gaze.

"I don't know what I want. But I owe it to father to see this through." Bertrand frowned at that, a look of concern gracing his features.

"You don't have to live in the shadow of his ghost, Elend. You are free to make your own decisions."

The young man shook his head. "I wish it were that simple, my friend. I really do."