giambro 611 Share Posted June 22, 2022 The Backstory of Ser Karl Ruslan Amador A Little Background of Ser Karl Ruslan Amador Over the years, Ser Karl Ruslan Amador had lost many people in his long tenure of life; most of his children, his wife, Knights that mentored him, family members from Karl’s past, Karl’s child-hood crush Eleanora Baruch, his best friend Koeng Sigismund, Petra, Ser Hildebrand, ‘Lady Dame Marie’, squires that have been passed down to him, Knight’s that have helped mentor him during his squire process, Karl’s brother Isaak Amador, a daughter that Karl never had, Vaslia and a son that Karl never had, Vladrik Kortrevich. Ser Karl’s papej was never there for him as a child nor was his mamej due to complications of giving birth. Isaak Amador had cared for his little brother which Ser Karl had never forgotten in his lifetime. When Isaak passed away, Ser Karl struggled and the mindset that Karl once had, diminished and the health of Ser Karl declined as a result. When it first began, Isaak and Karl always roamed around the Karosgrad streets, causing ‘mayhem’ and doing what ordinary children have always done, which was having fun. Just one day, he laid eyes on a lass that had blonde hair with blue eyes that had a heavy, thick accent that was conversing with his cousin Petra.. Her name was Eleanora Baruch and ever since Karl laid eyes on Eleanora, the young chap fell in love with her. Over the course of Karl’s childhood, Eleanora and Karl played, adventured together and let out a giggle every so often when they were together; they were inseparable, at least that is what Karl thought at the time. When Karl bought a golden, diamond necklace that was engraved with the letter ‘B’ into it by the d’Azor’s of Oren, Karl wanted to show Eleanora Baruch that he was ready for the next step in life. After some time, Eleanora Baruch declined the piece of jewelry and returned it back to Karl, dropping it into the palm of his hand. The angst, anxiety, the sadness and worst of all, Karl was heartbroken from that day forth and kept it inside of himself until his dying days. Many years have passed, Isaak Amador, his brother, betrothed the Baruch; the attack of betrayal from his own brother felt like a sharp dagger struck into Karl’s heart. Karl will never forget that day and will remember that moment until his dying days. Karl roamed around in the streets with his brother Isaak, checking in the stall that they have owned for years. The two were both business men that cared for their workers and made sure the business operated smoothly. Not only that, Karl was the Grand Maer of Karosgrad at the tender age of fourteen years old and made sure to care for the civilians at all costs, which he held dearly in his heart. Karl strided towards the stall with his brother and seeked a beggar, begging for food and harassing the clerk that manned their stall, Petyr. No words were spoken out of the child’s mouth, her skin seemed darker than normal with purely, greasy, black, frizzled hair and brown eyes. The odor was horrendous and Karl knew there was something that needed to be done.. With a heart of gold, Karl told Petyr to give the Farfolk a basket of bread for the trouble.. From that day forth, Karl and the Farfolk girl became good friends. Later in life, the Farfolk girl returned to Karosgrad and finally spoke, saying that she was being taken care of by someone from Yong Ping. The girl lured Karl to the inn that was located in the Tavern and by hop of faith, Karl fell in love with this Farfolk girl and the both of them connected for Karl’s first kiss. Further down the line, Karl found out that the Farfolk girl had passed away from a shipwreck and was slain by pirates. This saddened Karl and the secret love-affair was no more, he had thought. Years have passed and the Farfolk girl had returned, seemingly precarious about Karl’s words that spread throughout the Kongzem. The boy was shocked and had once told her he could not marry a commoner since he was Noble. Karl deemed her as a heathen and told her to get out of his sight. The Farfolk girl spewed out the words that released from her mouth, “I will send out people to kill you.. You will regret this…” Karl had never forgotten the hurtful words that she spoke.. In the upcoming years, bandits and mercenaries were sent to kill Ser Karl Ruslan Amador, however, since Karl was respected in the Kongzem and known for his good heart, the men and women backed him, slaying the bandits in the streets of Karosgrad.. From that day forward, Karl had learned that the Farfolk girl had finally passed due to a broken heart.. However, the words that were said to the boy were never forgotten… Ser Karl Amador became a Knight at the age of sixteen at the end of Koeng Heinrik’s reign and the beginning of Karl’s best friend’s reign, Koeng Sigismund. Without hesitation, Koeng Sigismund made Ser Karl as the Koeng’s Knight and named him the Knight Paramount of the Kongzem of Hanseti-Ruska. Ser Karl Ruslan served as the Knight Paramount at the age of seventeen in Hanseti-Ruska for a twelve year tenure and the stress of War compromised the Old Knight’s well-being. The Knight decided to retire as Knight Paramount from his duties and the Council to partake in taking care of his children and wife. His name was Ser Karl Ruslan Amador. Ser Karl served through three generations of Barbanov and proudly served the Kongzem as a Knight for almost fifty years, on and off. To become a Knight, Ser Karl fought and defeated a Rimetroll to complete his oath as a squire. With many bruises, broken bones, many scars and the like, the Knight survived the survival of the fittest. He overcame his injuries and recovered for that whole year at the Amador Keep. Ser Karl worked tremendously and indubitably hard on his squire tasks, becoming the youngest Knight and Knight Paramount in the Kongzem’s History. Ser Karl fought during the Svarling threat and fought many beasts to protect the civilians of Karosgrad, showcased loyalty to the Kongzem, fought many battles, protected the Crown from threats that opposed them, traveled far and wide to protect other Foreign Nations that Koeng Sigismund asked him to aid and most importantly, Ser Karl was a family man that wanted the best out of his children and wife. The Old Knight had killed many in battle and watched the opposition fall from his grasp. This took a toll on Ser Karl Ruslan, however. Though, as a Knight, Ser Karl was a peaceful man that cared for many, friend or foe. Due to his heart, he disliked killing. The Knight kept it inside of him for many years. Albeit, however, when it came to an evil-doer that did not believe in Canonism or wished nothing but anguish towards anyone that resided in Karosgrad, Ser Karl did not hesitate. He enjoyed watching those suffer for the treason that the evil-doer or opposition had caused to anyone in the Hanseti-Ruska Realm. Anywho, over the years, the only way to cope with the ordeal was flicking the flint of steel, igniting fire to his Hanseni-cigarettes for many years. The lungs of the Old Knight deteriorated over time. Not only that, all the ones that he truly cared about and loved that were lost put a huge dent into his heart. Growing up as a child, Karl had many friends; from Reinhardt Barclay, Jorg Iron’Heart, Molia Hazemezul, Eleanora Baruch, Petra, Sigismund and his brother, Isaak. Ser Reinhardt and Ser Karl pretty much grew up together in the Order of the Crow and Brotherhood of Saint Karl. They have fought alongside each other ever since they were children. Petra, Eleanora, Isaak and Karl went to the old Hobbit land near the Amador keep, adventuring into the burrows where the Hobbits crafted and dug their homes. The four grew up being the best of friends, a bond that could never be broken. Jorg’IronHeart, the Orc, accompanied Karl in his adventures at a young age, to protect, serve and help Karl if he had gotten into any sort of trouble. The Orc supported Karl through and through and was always there for him. Sigismund and Karl shared a bond like no other. Talking about life and played Haeseni-Chess with Isaak and his mamej, Koenas Annika. The duo were always together and strategized together when they were younger. Karl always had a dream to be a Knight and Sigismund was the heir to the Throne.. They adventured together, even though the adults wanted Sigismund to study, Sigismund always made time for Karl.. Molia met Karl through Sigismund. Karl thought that Molia was a great person and Molia seemed sad that Sigismund didn’t like her at first. With Karl’s charm, he made sure that Sigismund changed his mind and gave her a chance. Molia designed Karl’s tattoo on the right side of his arm, creating a sleeve of art that portrayed Karl in his Knight’s Quest of defeating the Rime Troll.. Ser Karl Ruslan Amador lived a great life, stayed loyal to the Kongzem, stayed true to himself and made sure that everyone was taken care of before thinking of himself. That was the type of person that Karl portrayed himself as from when he was a little chap until he grew and grew older. He lived by his means and did what he could; he accomplished everything he wanted to achieve. Life is like a box of chocolates, you do not know what you are going to get.. You have some good pieces and bad pieces, Karl was for sure, one of the good pieces in the box. He was the whole package, from Knight Paramount, Detective, Government and Grand Maer.. Life will be over before you know and this right here, proves the fact that you can go in a blink of an eye.. There will never be another Ser Karl Ruslan Amador again… Another Beginning of the Knight’s Decline A letter was sent by a black crow that landed on Ser Karl's right shoulder. The sickly, paled face, salt-and-peppered haired Knight hucked and coughed out the yellow-bloody-ish red ooze from his throat, onto his frock; the same black, green garment that was tailored for him for years. Karl’s hands shook as the odor from his gloves was tainted by the saliva from the dreadful coughing and abusing his lungs over the years. The smell of cigarettes did not help with the smell of Karl’s miasma odor. The smell was potent and drenched the air particles around him. Karl could not smell and he was potentially losing his eyesight as grayness took over the Iris of the man’s eyes. The Old Knight’s health was declining and furthermore was getting over the loss of one of his sons, Frederick Eimar Amador. The letter that was sent to him was creased by the Kortrevich seal as the black ink bleed through the letter. Moments later, the black crow chirped and made a kaw sound that echo’d through the streets, departing with haste. With a little hesitation, Karl ripped up the seal, his eye lids twitched as he struggled to rip open the seal. Much effort had passed and with a little brute strength, he finally opened up the seal to read the first wordings that read: “Dear Ser Karl Ruslan, Ea have nie been feeling dobry as of late, Ea am on my wheelchair and wanted to bring word to vyr attention. Vy were like a papej to me. Please come visit me at the Keep in Jerovitz.. Ea will be in the church, where I sit until my last breath. Vyrs truly, Vladrik Kortrevich” A single tear rolled down the Old Knight’s eye socket, dribbling down to the crusted, salt-and-peppered beard that smelled of old food, old remnants of beer and cigarettes. The Knight clapped thrice and slowly ascended his glove upward towards his lips, forming his hand into a fist with his index and middle finger sticking out and placed the fingers into his mouth, weakly blowing into a whistle. Remembering from his past, Boris, his War Cow, his companion, used to obey to the call and was always there for him, but, however, in life old age catches up to you and sadly. The reminiscing of this call reminded him of Boris, who tragically died from old age as the War-Cow nestled his head on the Old Knight’s lap. As Karl’s warhorse arrived in a blink of an eye, the horse kneeled down his hooves, arching their kneecaps downward towards the stoned surface of the square of Karosgrad. Raising his left arm upward to shield his eyes, he carefully brushed away the tears from his face after the short reminisce of his beloved companion Boris. With stride, Karl leisurely crawled up on the back of his horse up upon the saddle and as the process transpired, the Horse rose up on its hooves and circled around the square. The horse seemed giddy and made some unique naying sounds. While Ser Karl climbed up the horse, he brushed the Horse’s hair with a weak smile on his face. People waved to Karl a and thanked him for his hard work as they passed by. As they waved, he returned the favor and slowly grabbed upon the lead of his Horse to make the long haul towards Jerovitz. After a few days of travel, Ser Karl arrived at Jerovitz and led the Horse towards the gate of Jerovitz. The iron bars blocked off the keep but remembered from the letter that Vladrik rested in the church. The weak and sickly Knight slid off the Horse and entered the church of Jerovitz. As the door opened, candles were lit up and the place seemed to be colder than usual. Upon striding down the aisle of the church, a man with brown-ish locks sat in a wheelchair that dozed off into a slumber. Moments later, Karl caressed the top of the wooden pew and weakly sat down, resting his back against it and let out a grumble from where he sat. The clanking sounds of Karl’s boots and groaning sounds of the Knight woke up the Kortrevich. The man twisted his head towards the Knight with a weakened smile, a frail stature and the body of the man seemed fragile; meaning, that the bones in the man’s body can break at any moment. With much effort, the man slowly opened his mouth and his voice box seemed like the cobwebs had finally been released.. “Ser Karl, it has been a long time…” The Old Knight got up on his own feet with a little ‘jump’ to his step. Vladrik had offered his old, crinkly hand towards Ser Karl. Without hesitation, Karl grabbed the man’s hand, who he had cared for when Vladrik was just a child. However, that boy that Karl took care of was no longer a boy; he was a man, a man that was dying from sickness and was at his peak hours of death. The stress and depression had settled once again as he watched the boy Vladrik was once was, dying in his hindsight. There was no stopping the disease that took over Vladrik.. It saddened Karl, deeply inside. The thought was killing Karl, like he was being nailed to a cross but not by his arms and legs but a sharp nail that ran through his heart. Karl arched his body downward and wrapped his arms around Vladrik for the moment before arching his body up weakly. It took a lot of effort from the Old Knight. The hoarse coughing continued from the Old Knight and it seemed more deadly, as he stepped aside for the moment to let out the bloody ooze from his mouth. Not only was it Vladrik’s last hours, it seemed to be Ser Karl’s last hours as well. It was hard to breathe for the Old Knight.. Every breath that the Knight felt like knives was striking through the man’s lungs. Vladrik with a perturbed look on his face, beckoned for Karl to come forth. With lofted brows and a pale face, weakly stated that he was cold and wished to be rolled near the fireplace of the Keep, “Ser Karl, do vy mind to make mea somewhere warm.. My skin feels like icicles, icicles that are puncturing through my bones. I feel numbness around my body.” Ser Karl did not say a word and did not hesitate to the old Count’s words as he grasped the arms of the wooden wheelchair. The leathered grip of Karl’s hands tethered on the arm’s of the wheelchair as he strolled Vladrik’s wheelchair towards the Keep. Once settled inside the Keep, he brought Vladrik closer to the warm fire to keep him warm. Conversations and backtracking were had as the pair reminisced about the past together. It seemed like nothing had changed between the two, it was like they never split apart after all these years. Ser Karl talked about his travels to the ‘Island of the Coconuts’ where the Knight stayed for many years and the island was his home to stay from that time. During the conversations, not only was Ser Karl coughing, Vladrik was also coughing every breath and word he voiced out. It was troublesome for them both. Vladrik heard word that Vasilia visited the gardens near the Keep. Ser Karl knew from reports and letters that Vladrik’s sister was deceased but thought Vladrik knew of her passing. The Old Knight didn’t mention her whereabouts but finally, Vladrik asked if he could visit his sister in the gardens, where Vasilia loved to be; it was her sacred place, a place she had fondly fallen in love with. She loved the gardens and Vladrik knew this is where she visited most often. Anxiety and stress filled the Old Knight’s head and his worried demeanor didn’t seem promising but fulfilled Vladrik’s request to head into the gardens. The small trip to the garden was a displeasure and full of sadness and the thoughts of Ser Karl was immensely agnosing. Just the thought of telling Vladrik what had happened to his sister could bring the old count to a possible end of life. He did not want to be the actual cause of Vladrik’s death, knowing full well that the two were close. It would break his heart and it could have been very well known it could be the Kortrevich’s last breath. Karl put it in the hands of GOD to shed light on the situation at hand.. Though, after some thought, Karl said to himself that he wouldn’t tell the disrupting news. Vladrik with a rough sounding voice seemed to be fluttering, knowing full well that Vasilia was nowhere to be found. Karl sat on the wooden bench that was covered in icy snow, he weakly brushed off the mound of snow off the surface to sit down. The Kortrevich steered the wheels of his wheelchair in the icy mud, though it took a lot of effort. Karl sat up for the moment but Vladrik raised his palm toward the Old Knight to tell him “Ea got this, Ser Karl,” smiling as he did. Vladrik gestured for Ser Karl to sit down once again to continue where they left off. “Ea wonder where my sestra has ran off to,” the sound of concern left from the voice of Vladrik. “Vyr sestra was a pleasant lass, she was. A heart of gold with a lot of charisma. Vy two were two peas in a pod. The two of vy shared a bond like nie other siblings have ever had,” with a grumble in his tone, Karl swallowed saliva down his throat, remembering the two children in their pastime. “What do vy mean ‘was’? Where is my sestra?” Vladrik started to choke up his words as a single ran down his eye socket. “N-.. Nie, Vladrik vyr sestra is perhaps in Karosgrad, accompanying the garden and maintaining it.. I just saw Vasilia on my way to Jerovitz, just days before arriving,” Karl’s stomach started to wench and belch, sick as he lied through his own teeth. A single tear had also fallen, striking down on the mound below his feet as he looked to Vladrik. “Da, perhaps vy are right Ser Karl.. I just want to see my sestra,” he paused for a second as Vladrik took in a deep breath of fresh air, “Ea want to visit Karosgrad to see Vasilia.. Will vy take mea?” From that moment forward, Ser Karl nodded his head without hesitation and got up from his sitting stance and clapped thrice for his horse once again. The hoarse cough continued from the Old Knight. Yellow and bloody ooze hucked from his mouth, spitting out into the snow as the saliva stayed stagnant, turning to ice on the snow, once again. Suddenly, Vladrik took another gasp of air and fainted. With stride and a little jump from his leg muscles, Karl ran to aid Vladrik, clapping and yelling for his horse. Ser Karl used all of his strength and might, wrapping his arms around Vladrik with all the strength he had left and lifted his old friend up on the horse. Tears and sobs can be heard from the Old Knight as he slid onto the saddle of his horse, “Stay with me, Lord Vladrik. I will bring vy to a Doctor that can help vy,” Ser Karl softly said, grabbing the lead of his horse. Vladrik’s head started to slump, waking up for a moment with a sloppy tone of his voice “ Ea… Ea think ea will go for a nap here in the gar-” he suddenly stopped speaking and with that, Vladrik went into a eternal slumber as he took his last breath. “Stay with me my boy, Vladrik, do nie fret, I am bringing vy to a doctor.” Karl shortly tethered his hands on the lead of the horse, lashing down the lead to travel back to Karosgrad with sorrow eyes The lifeless body of Vladrik lingered on the back of the horse, decaying away, though it seemed he was just asleep… The Amador had no scent of smell so it was rather hard to produce the smell of the scent through his nostrils. That is what Karl thought after, with no days of rest, after traveling far and wide to help his comrade get to a doctor. Ser Karl swayed his legs over his horse to accompany Vladrik, tapping him on the arm that they had arrived. The poor Old Knight checked the pulse of Vladrik, no pulse. The crowd gathered around Karl as the Old Knight went to his knees, “Vladrik is just sleeping, he is just sleeping. . . Let him be. . . I will take him to the Clinician, do nie worry,” he seemed disoriented, dazed and confused. He lied to himself to make himself feel better, however, that is what his mind believed. The death of Vladrik completely broke Karl and made him mad. “Ser Karl, do nie worry. . . We got it from here,” one of the soldiers of the Brotherhood of Saint Karl went forth to aid Karl, “The soldiers and I will take Lord Vladrik to the Clinic.” Ser Karl brushed the locks of Vladrik and drifted his hand down Vladrik’s chest. He snickered with wary eyes, “I will be back for vy, Vladrik, my boy, I will be back for vy. I promise vy,” “Come my boy, I will take you back to the Colborn Manner,” Adrian Colborn came to comfort the aging Knight as he wrapped his arm around the old Palatial Ward around the shoulders, seemingly concerned about the Knight’s sorrow. The soldiers lofted their eyebrows with a concerned look on their faces as they heaved the Count over their shoulders, taking slow strides toward the Clinic. Karl looked over to Vladrik one last time… Adrian and Karl slowly walked toward the Colborn Manor, up the stairs toward the Prikaz and headed left passed the Chess board to the Colborn’s abode. Sickness, and heartbreak had overcome Ser Karl over the years and thought to himself that he would see his friend again.. If news broke out, the Knight’s heart would perish and be completely crushed… The Broken Old Knight It was Ser Karl’s sixty fourth birthday. The Knight celebrated with family and friends that he came to be close with over the years. Food, cake, wine, ale and Karl’s favorite drink in the world, goat’s milk, were served in honor of his birthday at the Keep of which he stayed, hosted by his nephew, Filip Amador. The Knight knew his life was coming to an end… Everyone knew that Ser Karl's health was depleting. A lot of disbelief, betrayal, heartbreak and the sickness completely shattered him; he was broken, which made matters worse. That same year, the clinician diagnosed him with lung disease and it has caused a lot of internal problems. It was only a matter of time before the clock turned zero for the Knight.. The sand of the hour glass was almost completely filled to the bottom. Ser Karl viewed out through his window from his bedside. The cotton, fluffed red blanket wrapped around him. Fluffy white and smelly odor pillows snugged underneath Karl’s head. Clothes of his mistresses scattered around the floor, a few garments hanging from his office chair. The Knight’s weapons sheathed in his scabbards hung up on the walls above him by wooden hooks, the weaponry that he had obtained during his tenure as a Knight. A decanter that contained red wine, filled to the brim, was by the Knight’s bedside. Wine had stained the blue and white carpet, donning the Amador symbol. The Sun was shining bright through the crafted window glass, shadowing the entirety of Karl’s bed.. Karl’s peppered-salted hair was shedding on his fluffy blanket, his face felt oily and sweated profusely from his sickness. The man’s facial features showed a sign of struggle as his body turned frail and fragile from the weight loss.. Knock, knock sounds, a slight banging from another person’s thrust of the door, “Ser Karl, a letter has arrived with vyr name on it. It seems to be important,” Ser Karl winced as he swayed his legs over the bedside to get up from his feet. The fragile boned man sauntered towards the door and opened it. The man bowed his head to the Old Knight, handed over the letter with a wooden sword that deteriorated over time with an emotionless look on his face and turned on his heel without saying a word. Ser Karl slowly shook his head and slammed the door shut with a grumble. Curious on who sent the letter, Karl noticed it was the Kortrevich seal. The weakened man displayed some sort of jovial expression upon his lips. “Vladrik, oh Vladrik, I knew vy would recover from vyr sickness. GOD bless the…” Moments later, he took out his dagger that Isaak had given him from his childhood and cut the top of the seal to view the contents with a dreadful look crossed his face. “Dear Ser Karl Ruslan, We are sorry to bring vy the news of Lord Vladrik’s passing. The Kortrevich family knew that vy cared for him, so. We invite vy to his funeral and burial. We hope that vy are recovering well and that vy can make it. We apologize for breaking the news. All the best, House Kortrevich” The Knight trembled down to his knees, clashing them hard on the wooden floor. His left knee cap shattered from the fall. Though, Ser Karl’s demeanor seemed emotionless and showed no agony upon his lips from the fall… His lips were trembling with sadness, his blue eyes welled up and his hands grasped his garment, pressing against his heart, Ser Karl Ruslan Amador murmured the words. “Isaak.. Eleanora.. Petra.. Dame Marie.. Ser Hildebrand.. Sigismund.. Heinrik.. Josef.. Frederick.. Sergey.. Reinhardt… Adrian Colborn… Jorg… Vasilia.. Vladrik..” The Knight wept on the floor, crying his eyes out as his cheeks brushed red.. The blood seethed through the Knight’s armour as he laid there, emotionless and alone.. The Knight stared out through the window and trembled as he reminisced the past, continuing to say out the names he once said before.. Repeating the words, over and over again. He simply crawled back into bed and wept from the heartbreak after losing the son he has never had… Spoiler A depiction of Ser Karl and his boys; Josef Karl, Sergey Isaak and Frederick Eimar Jordan Applebottom’s (littyfam) portrait of Ser Karl Ruslan Amador sitting at the Prikaz Dining Hall, smiling and keeping a well confident demeanor. Ser Karl Ruslan as a squire fighting off the Rime Troll for his Knight’s Quest; Boris, his steed and companion, looking on from the sideline. Portrait art made by Molia Hazemezul (UnBaed). Depiction of Karl and Boris on the Prikaz stairs giving peace signs by Nikoleta (zuzzie) Depiction of Squire Karl Ruslan, Serene Highness Sigismund and Lady Eleanor Baruch on the dock being painted by Annika Barbanov, Koenas of Karosgrad (Madyyy) Latest depiction of Ser Karl Amador attending Art Night in the Prikaz of Hanseti-Ruska. Vladrik’s depiction of Ser Karl and Vladrik Kortrevich. Karl holding a sword and Vladrik with a beet. 15 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Taketheshot 3834 Share Posted June 23, 2022 Joseph d'Azor huffed "She should've taken the necklace..." Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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