Okay, my internet finally got its shit together, after like, two days. So here's my character, I guess. Forgive me if it makes absolutely zero sense because holy crap, am I exhausted, right now.

[hider=Tariq zo Hazzar]
[center][img]https://31.media.tumblr.com/150d27372ed1b61c4bc3f8f74bce6c6a/tumblr_inline_nqbegy6Svl1snuovk_500.gif[/img][/center]
[center]Not the most imposing of figures, Tariq stands at a respectable 5’8”, with a lithe, leanly muscled build. Fading scars line his skin, and he walks with a slight limp from a past injury. Still, he carries himself with an air of tepid arrogance and regality, as is common for one of his station. Dark-haired and olive-skinned, it is not hard to notice his Ghiscari heritage, though his accent is a dead giveaway for the unusually oblivious. The wealth Tarik has acquired through his father’s slaving business has allowed him to incubate a taste for the finer things in life. His fingers (two of which are missing from his right hand) are often adorned with golden rings, and he always dresses in the finest embroidered vests, shirts, breeches, and boots money can buy.[/center]

[center][i]“The gleaming of precious jewels, that white, sparkling smile... None of it can hide the blood on his hands, and he’d be a fool to think otherwise.”

“Ours is the blood of ancient Ghis, whose empire was old when Valyria was but a squalling child. You would do well to remember that, my friend, if you fancy keeping your tongue.”[/i][/center]

[b]Name:[/b]
Tariq zo Hazzar, though he’s known to most as Jaqos Vhassinar.

[b]Nickname:[/b]
-

[b]Age:[/b]
28

[b]House:[/b]
House of Hazzar

[b]Parents:[/b]
[i]Grizhin zo Hazzar[/i] - A sturdy, broad-shouldered Yunkai’i, even in his old age. While he may seem slow and dull-witted, he has a head for business like no other, building up his empire over the years.
[i]Sirera Dynion[/i] - A noblewoman from Norvos, attracted to Grizhin by his bottomless wealth, rather than any true affection. She left soon after Tariq was born, leaving him in the care of his father and his many servants.

[b]Siblings:[/b]
He has many half-siblings, though none he particularly cares about.

[b]Personality:[/b]
At first glance, Tariq might seem like someone you could easily befriend. Disarmingly charismatic, he is exceptionally skilled at talking his way out of any and all situations. But that doesn’t mean that with his playful repartee and downright infectious laugh that he isn’t dangerous - the blood of old Ghis still runs strong in his veins, after all. Cruel, mercurial and self-serving, he doesn’t abide by the rules, he doesn’t play fairly, and he certainly doesn’t let anyone think they can get one up on him. Every thought in his brain is designed toward his purpose, his goal, and anything at hand will be treated like a tool. If there’s any atrocity he won’t commit, it is only because of its impracticality.

That however doesn’t mean he has no soft spot to speak of, it merely is particularly difficult to find. Naturally venomous and aloof, he is used to putting on a variety of faces so as to achieve any means to an end. He won’t hesitate to mock a person’s stupidity and praise it all in one breath. Never assume that what face he puts on is what he truly feels, it'd be the last thing you’d do.

[b]Skills:[/b]
- Tariq is exceptionally skilled at talking his way in and out of any situation under the sun; courtesy of a lifetime of practice reading body language. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that he has more than enough coin in his pocket to pay off the entirety of the City Watch... [i]twice[/i].

- Fluent in both High Valyrian and the common tongue.

[b]Religion:[/b]
The Graces

[b]Bio:[/b]
Born in the city of Yunkai, Tariq has lived in the lap of luxury since day one. The city has since been rebuilt, back to its former glory, nearly a century after Daenerys Targaryen had laid siege. Without her presence, or her dragons, the Wise Masters and their loyalists managed to quell the slave rebellion without much trouble. Of course, there [i]was[/i] some permanent damage. The seeds of discord had already been sown amongst the slaves in Yunkai, and it would be a good century or two until they finally gave up their dreams of rebellion. Still, these little skirmishes weren’t anything to worry about - hired mercenaries could take care of them. After all, [i]“mhysa”[/i] wasn’t returning to liberate them, was she?

The twelfth of his name, Tariq zo Harraz is the blood of Old Ghis, one of its last, remaining scions. Most of his childhood was spent running around his father’s manse, and playing with the children of the other Wise Masters. He holds little memory of his mother, only vague flickers of her deep, green eyes staring back at him, flecked with gold.

Despite his cushy upbringing, not everything was rosy. In one of the greatest uprisings ever seen in decades, a twelve year-old Tariq was caught out on the streets by a group of slaves. His father found him later that night, collapsed in a ditch, beaten bloody and missing two fingers from his right hand.

Countless slaves were tortured and executed in the following weeks, two for each noble that turned up dead or injured. This incident became known throughout Slaver’s Bay as the Night of the Red Harpy.

Ever since then, Tariq has held a special hatred for the lowborn. His cruelty towards those he deemed socially inferior to him were great, and even his father began to grow concerned with his behaviour. Corpses of slaves would turn up in the streets - eyes missing, hands broken - mutilated beyond recognition. The total body count was never something that came to light, but it was clear that Tariq was very quickly becoming an inconvenience, and that he had to be dealt with.

Sensing that his demise was close, Tariq took as much as he could, before chartering a ship bound for Westeros. When the assassins sent by the Wise Masters showed up at the Harraz estate to slip a dagger between his ribs, he was already gone, with nothing left behind but a single chest of silks.

In Westeros, Tariq made a living as a merchant lord - operating under an alias - in Dorne. After all, the Westerosi were strangely opposed to slavery, and it wouldn’t do him any good if people were to find out, would it? With some coin, he managed to shut up any whistleblowers. Still, he can’t keep an eye on everyone, and rumours of the sanguinary being behind the rebuilding of Vulture’s Roost have been spreading, slowly but surely.

[b]Other:[/b]
-[/hider]