Vorn Do'Urden
Jan 24, 2023 11:26:33 GMT -5
Post by Vorn Do'Urden on Jan 24, 2023 11:26:33 GMT -5
Vorn Do'Urden
Gender: Male
Age: 53
Race: Dark Elf
Nationality: Frost Gale, Pale City
Appearance: Standing at 1 meter and seventy centimiters, Vorn's lithe figure isn't very imposing, though he does his best to compensate by wearing the finest clothes, and a ring or two at all times. He's rarely seen without his pet owl, and some tissues to clean up after her
Personality: Vorn keeps a close eye to his charges, be them elves or birds, and they mean much to him. He's also easily annoyed, and more than a little willing to do whatever people don't expect of him, to catch them off guard and reassert his own independence.
History: The second born child of Narcelia Do'Urden, matriarch of the Do'Urden clan, Vorn was made aware very early on there were expectations on his shoulders. Even as a baby, he wasn't supposed to cry much, and when he did, his mother, a powerful sorceress, simply silenced him with a spell when it was clear he was only crying for attention. If not for one of the housemaids who took the time to be with him, Vorn's childhood would have been very lonely, indeed.
As he grew older, his training begun, though not in the arts of sorcery: he apparently wasn't ready for it, despite his older sister having begun at about his age. Instead, he was to take on the role of guarding the estate: Vorn's time was spent more with hired soldiers than with the rest of the Do'Urdens, who often retreated to areas of the house he barely understood, marked with odd symbols as they were - symbols no one bothered to explain the meaning to him, no matter how tactifully he asked.
He might not have interacted with his family on a daily basis at all, if it weren't for Narcelia: every day, she would ask what it was he'd learned. Every day, she would quizz him, and proceed to go on about how he was meant to act, think, and feel - and remind him that he was supposed to exceed expectations, no matter how high they were. Only then would disaster be avoided. For forty years, Vorn did his best: he trained birds to quickly pass on information around the castle, so those who couldn't do magic could nonetheless communicate efficiently, he learned the intricacies of dueling, so he could support the soldiers while keeping the most dangerous targets busy with his skills,should combat ever arise, and he took the men and women to forays into the wilds, so they might hunt and keep their skills sharp.
Not once did Vorn question his mother, for humbleness and obedience were expected of him. Not once did he ask her when he'd be ready to be privvy to at least some of the secrets of the family. Not once did Narcelia even hint things would ever change.
It became clear that this was to be his life, if not forever, then at least for the next century or so - and Vorn decided that if he couldn't be good enough no matter what he did, then he would simply stop trying to please, and focus on his own wants and needs. And the thing he wanted most was respect, something not easy to achieve when he assumed he was the only one in the family who couldn't turn things into frogs.
To compensate, he focused not on confronting them directly, but showing his worth on other areas: his hunts became more daring, the birds he bred were considered of great quality and pedigree, and eventually, Vorn very directly and very loudly refused to report his every deed to his mother. That was the last day she ever spoke to him, at least for the next year, when disaster struck.
Vorn always wondered if, due to his attitudes the previous decade, his mother blamed him for a sickness that was out of his control, but he wasn't about to ask. Especially not since she almost never again left her daughter's side, and only ever addressed him to relegate the functions of going to the apothecary to buy some ingredients to stall the disease's advance. Apparently, as the brother, it was his duty to handle the treatment while the other, more qualified members meditated, or went on pilgrimages. The illness that affected his sister was the Pale Woe, a terrible thing that would slowly but surely consume the heir to the family, as well as every single piece of gold they had, in an attempt ward off the effects as much as possible.
This is, in essence, what Vorn has been doing for the last year: cycling back and forth to spend all the Do'Urdens' gold for a treatment of the disease, wondering if there was somehow something else he could do, and feeling a hint of reget for his past attitude; not that he'd ever admit it. Some things you just go along with, and don't wast time thinking of what-ifs. As long as his sister might have an easier... passing through his next actions, that's what matters.