Before Shaheed was born, their was his father (Tasgall Blacach) & his mother ( Juwairiya al-Nour ). His father travelled to a small town not known to any map yet produced famous artisans due to their sand tapestries & refined glassworks. While these illustrious works made all gaze in awe, they were relatively unknown until a pale man journeyed to the hearth blasted landscape. When he began his ascend through the wavy desert sands, he imagined a more vast city would be his destination but he managed to only walk far enough to fall unconscious outside one of the sandstone workshops where w omen carrying her finished masterpiece walked out with an excited grin on her face. As she hummed her joyful tune she tripped on his neck & slammed her artwork into the desert slab-stone blocks, she turned around with a rage. The women screamed and kicked what had tripped her while throwing a flurry of insults harsher than any women he had heard, or were those insults? He couldn't recognise as he began to drift off with the last thing he saw being her bahlga speed towards his face. When he awoke he had a cold towel soaking over his head with a women napping at the bottom of the heavy layered bed. Tasgal suddenly arouse & immediately stopped as he felt the painful bashes to his back, neck, arms & face all at once; leaving him sitting up in silent agony. As his high pitched squeaking became apparent she slowly raised her head and looked at him relieved, "Im glad your alright algharibat al'ajnabia" (foreigner, 'not rude' , Arabic) As she stood up with a great deal of confidence and a short yet exasperated sigh left her mouth, the women sternly spoke "Well know that your awake, i'm sure you can now repay your debt. you broke my masterpiece and either i break you or you help me build something similar." The man now conscious looked at the women and truly took a look at her now. She stood there with piercing brown eyes, milk chocolate chocolate skin that appeared as soft as the sands she lived by & an elegant ivory coloured hijab. She stood there staring with her hand on her hip, holding apart of her long dark blue dress thats mostly tied back to avoid getting in the way of her as her burn blasted arpon sat down on her, loosely tied with thin, aching straps that were 1 angry pull to tearing off. As the ginger man sat their in a cold sweat and unblinking eyes the women grew impatient & proclaimed. " My name is Juwairiya al-Nour, and ill be a master artisan in both sand & glass works. After you fainted, you decided to lay in-front of my own workshop & made me drop my MASTERPIECE!" She yelled. almost leaving her out of breath, she inhaled slowly & continued. "So now you will stay here, with me, slaving away at the kiln where you must help me repair the harm of which you've already done." As she readied to begin another barrage of orders then man cut her off saying "Ok, how can i help?". Her face turned from mad to surprised, she had never thought this foreigner would accept this, more or less understand her. She had been speaking her natively language out of anger, not even attempting to cater yet he understand? "What a peculiar fellow" she pondered. He stammered " I-I apologise for the incipience but while i help you can i stay at this house? no matter what i WILL make sure that this is at least 10X Better then your masterpiece with both of us working on it!". His attitude came off as cocky but had no insult thrown & pure honesty expressed, she sat back down at the chair she got up from to contemplate what he was saying, but she realised the grave insult he had hurled. He claimed to make 10x better Work with his mere assistance? how dare HE she expressed in silent anger. " All i ask is your hand in marriage!" This fuzzled fellow with large legs, bulky chest and frayed hair slowly stood up & offered up his hand. "You are insinuating you can make something better then me? a master in the village int he art? I chose this path to avoid marriages, NOT TO BE THROWN BACK IN FOR GLASSWORK. IM A MASTER BUT ITS ALL COLD & CALCULATED, YOU COULDN'T EVEN IF YOU TRIED!" She boasted with increasing volume, as she had begun to attract everyones attention. he looked at his hand once more and spoke " I am Tasgall Blacach and I VOW TO MAKE YOUR WORK 100X BETTER, BUT I HUMBLY REQUEST FOR YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE IF SUCCEED IN ASSISTING YOU !" He Boomed, this was his final offer & Juwairiya could see his commitment, so she took a gamble. "I accept your proposition. If i accept you work, ill allow marriage between us. Otherwise, when i, inevitably refuse you; you'll be crawling through the labriyth sands as dryer then the Spector that you've arrived as. I, Juwairiya al-Nou, accept your deal. Hope this works for you, lets see how much u can impress me." And so, the beginning of their 3 years of work had begun, & had fostered their love. After the 3 years, after Tasgalls consistent refusing & Juwairiya unending urging, they decided to share credit. Their masterpiece - named "sand & steel" for its unique silver colours - They left their artwork as a thank you to the town that united them & decided to move to the town he set out from, Savoy. Over the 7 years they stayed there they had a child & named him Shaheed Tasgall Cheshrof. Juwairiya fought tooth and nail for his first name & made Tasgall only get his middle name. His last name is in respect to his cousins family that helped him when he landed on hard times before he left the city; from here on out they seemed to be a happy family, till a bright day with clear sky of where tragedy had struck. when Juwairiya & her son - Shaheed - had decided to go out they wondered the town getting food as any normal day. While they go out, shaheed alsways admired the buildings; it didint matter that they werent large, he admired the stoneworks & architecture of the buildings of the streets that seemed so long. But while they brought home food & materials for his fathers forge, a large stone slab fell out of a building atop & hurled towards shaheed. His mother realised almost too late & dived for him, leaving her legs to be shattered. As her screams echoed the streets, many bystanders rushed to lift the slab off of her but it couldn't budge. After 2 agonising minutes, Tasgall had ran in a cold sweat as he heard the echoing screams of a familiar voice to find out it was his wife. When he arrived the Adeline pumped beyond imagine & with the help of bystanders, had lifted the dense slab from the broken ground below. Her legs had been mangled beyond repair & the sight had sickened those bystanders while her husband cried into her arms as she wailed in pain, hugging onto tasgall & her horrified son, shaheed. The owner of that building had been prosecuted for unsafe building yet payed of his massive debt like pocket change, in the process the rich boy referred to her as "the poor cripple". So the tight knit community they had built around them retailiated with Tasgall at the head, the people had stopped buying from the buisness and circulated rumors about their product while tasgall took this more personally. He was about to set out to slit the throat of that man who insulted & crippled his wife. The day he was about to set out she, still in pain, convinced him that if he were to do that, then they were all better off dead. The grief had got to him & his lack of breadwinning forced him to later go into the military to support them. Before he had done this he moved them to stay with his family in the other half of the city, the Cheshrof's. While he grew up there with a cousin who became a friend & a brother to me, Gregory William Cheshrof. While he grew up with him, his mother became weak & worsening condition due to her increasingly getting sick & never fully recovering. On 1859 of the imperial calendar (i assume thats 8 yrs ago), Juwairiya al-Nour, had drawn her final breath. Shaheed Tasgall Cheshrof striken with grief, cried out for his father to come back but didnt here a response. After weeks of mourning & a proper funeral, Shaheed Tasgall Cheshrof decided to finally go out and pursue his work as an architect. He spent most of his time in savoy designing & helping build the buildings on the same streets that took his mothers legs & swore, that all buildings he works on will be safe for inhabitants & nearby citizens alike. He wishes no other the pain his mother went through & honours her memory. She had still raised him when bedridden, teaching him the artworks of her homeland & the styles that united in her & her husbands shared tapestry. With his unique understanding of the materials & sense of design, he's set out to a nearby town of Arichsdorf in order to re-unite with his cousin (Gregory William Cheshrof) & hopefully aid in the making of the fairly new city. He is still open to learning & has done various other jobs to both on a living wage while work is scarce & expand his horizons on how people create. at the age of 29, he hopes to continue what he has been doing & aid everyone to the best of his abilities.
There was an error in my application cause i couldnt type that much for character appearence so ill continue it here: His eyes are similar colour to that of dark chocolate & his longer, dark brown hair is pushed to the right. He wears thicker baise pants & hardened leather boots.
Same character limit occured with character traits now: Marvel at the buildings he passes & always likes to look at their production. He likes experimenting with new materials & when he discovers a new 1 he talks almost exclusively about the combinations to those who he think would appreciate this as well.
Final thing, in my story i mention greg & i have gotten permission by that person to use him in my backstory.
