[hider=Markus][b]Name: [/b]
Marcus 'the Bastard' Ausarn

[b]Age:[/b] 
27

[b]Gender:[/b]
Male

[b]Appearance: [/b]
Marcus is of above-average height and average weight, and reasonably fit. His eyes are a light gray, his hair jet-black and close-cropped. He maintains a short and well-trimmed beard, and a smirk is almost ever-present on his face.

He commonly wears a simple surcoat over a thin, light coat of chain mail. From his belt, an arquebus and shortsword hang side-by-side.

[b]Personality: [/b]
Marcus is outgoing and extroverted, with charm and persuasion coming easily to him in a way that blades and bows never truly did. While many favor their sword-arm as their most important skill, and some few their brain, Marcus's greatest skill has always been his tongue -- able to speak his way out of almost any predicament, easy to trust, easy to believe and easy to follow. 

That is not to say that eloquent words are the entirety of Marcus's personality. He is somewhat hot-headed at times, easy to anger but just as easy to calm. More pertinently, he is plagued by ambition in the more archaic sense -- greedy, cunning and sometimes immoral. Marcus often tries to maintain a basic moral code, and generally succeeds, but is not above breaking these morals to get what he feels that he needs. 

[b]History:[/b] 
Marcus was born in a perhaps particularly interesting social position -- the acknowledged bastard son of the last constitutionally-appointed King of Thule, in the years just before the great Addam Ausarn was felled in battle by the barbaric northmen, and the throne was seized by a much more pragmatic king -- one who would erode away all that Thule had stood for in the years before the Dusk Age. 

Despite the hesitant affirmation of fatherhood that King Ausarn had granted, Marcus's mother was still a relatively impoverished merchant's daughter, and thus his early life was rather dreary -- particularly with the ever-looming threat of a Hyperborean sack of the capital and the first stirrings of some strange plague in the sewers and gutters of the capital. As the barbarian raids grew ever closer food became more and more scarce, until on a few occasions the young Marcus was forced to beg or steal if he wished to eat. 

When he finally came of age, Marcus enlisted as a soldier -- primarily to get some food in his stomach and to avoid the plague, but also because it was the rumor that the King was seeking to root out and eliminate his remaining political opponents -- among them, perhaps, the last king's bastard and his claim, however flimsy, to the throne. It was well known in those days that to do so would be something of a death-wish, as the Hyperboreans grew ever more numerous and cunning, but it was a necessity. Marcus proved a decent soldier but a very adept persuader, and with the right combination of flattery, cunning and boot-licking, he rose to a position of moderate renown. 

In the end, though, the powerful gunpowder weapons of Thule proved to be too little against the savages from the north, and in a final battle the nation's amassed army -- among them Marcus -- was scattered to the wind. Many small groups were picked off by roaming packs of beast-men, the result of the ever-growing Scourge, but Marcus managed to make his way to a nearby village with a small group of loyal men and find shelter. 

In time, he came to learn that mighty Thule had been shattered entirely, its vassals splintered into petty and warring nation-states. It was then that Marcus realized the power he might potentially wield -- under a particularly charismatic face, a face like his but perhaps a bit better-washed, the remaining nobles of the realm might be persuaded to unite once more to reestablish the old constitution and defeat the Hyperboreans. 

There were other tasks to be undertaken first, of course. Markus spent several years performing odd-jobs in various villages in order to save up money for the ordeal he must soon undertake. Some of the tasks he undertook required a strong sword-arm, which Markus could do well enough in comparison to your average bandit or beast-man, but often Markus found himself able to persuade or intimidate his human enemies into giving in, whether by promising them a pardon for their crimes or promising the retribution that would soon be coming -- even when, often, there was neither a pardon or any other retribution in sight.

As time passed, then, Markus became better and better at the bluffs and deceiving truths and persuasions. He found that he had a natural skill for inspiring courage -- or fear -- and convincing people to do what he said, perhaps inherited from the lordly father that he idolized but had never met. In addition, he accumulated more and more gold -- enough, eventually, to trim his beard, purchase a suit of chain-mail and a surcoat and a destrier, and ride boldly up to the portcullis of the nearest lord to introduce himself as the acclaimed Bastard of Ausarn, rightful heir and only son of the last good king of Thule.

[b]Journey:[/b] 
Markus's rather lofty goals are to unite the people of Thule, cleanse the nation from savages and plague, and reestablish the old constitution -- under his own benevolent rule, of course.

[b]Ideals:[/b] 
Markus perhaps embodies the quintessential robber-knight, though he is neither robber nor knight -- a bit unkempt and rough around the edges, perhaps lacking in morals, but with a certain amount of charm and eloquence that allows him to rise high in the world. 

A part of Markus also idolizes the potentially-exaggerated view of his father, often seen as the last great king of Thule -- chivalrous, fearless, and honorable. Markus, of course, is none of those, but he often compares his own actions, many of them out of necessity or simple greed, to that of this idealized king and parent that he never knew. Another part, of course, wishes to step out from the shadow of his long-late father and build glory of his own.

[b]Holdings: [/b]
On his person, Markus owns a coat of chainmail armor, a well-cleaned if old and battered full helm with visor, an arquebus, a shortsword, and a number of small purses of gold -- as well as a few coins sewn about in his boots and the lining of his clothing. He is also in the possession of an impatient and ill-tempered jet-black war horse and various minor personal affects.
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