Some people are born to greatness, and others must fight tooth and nail to claim it. Ivan was no stranger to either story. Born in the heart of the The Holy Orenian Empire, he had seen men with glory in their veins. Proud blood and hertigate to rival gods. Others were not so lucky, but carved their way to valor through great deeds. Some became figures of legend.
It was those men and women that he idolized most. From a young age he sought to follow in the footsteps of his older brother - a man with a smile that was as charming as it was enviable. They were inseperable for many years, until Ivan's body began to fail him. By the time that his brother had taken the Oath of Saint Karl, Ivan was all but a ghost. Pale, sickly, and with a cough that never quite seemed to go away.
He was forced to watch on from the sidelines, and sought to quell his discontent by persuing religion instead. A devote Canonist, he had lived to embody their tenants of virtue and spirit until the age of eighteen. Yet, all the while, the persistant dream of one day matching his brother's valor never left him.
So, he thought, despite his frailty and weak heart... that life is hardly worth living if he cannot experience his dreams. He set out against the wishes of his family and friends, to seek the cure for his mysterious ailment, or some other path to glory besides.
