[@VoiD]
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[b]Name:[/b] Ioannis (with variations depending on audience like John, Ivan, Johannes, etc...) Fabianou Sveinaldsson
[b]Nobility:[/b] Konostaulos 
[b]Sex:[/b] Male
[b]Race:[/b]Varangian
[b]Age:[/b] 2 (Born August 3rd  1793)
[b]Physical Description:[/b] 
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Standing at about six feet tall, Ioannis has good symmetry and well-rounded proportions of the body with no particularly emphasis on his build anywhere; simply what one gets when they've been living a military life. He has a short but pointed nose, wide yet not precisely strong cheeks and a somewhat weak chin; however this is somewhat counter-acted by the long face. He has quite pale skin that is however often reddened by the sun. It is contrasted by jet black hair and mellowed out by green eyes.  
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[img]https://i.imgur.com/QNPvjpP.png?1[/img]
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[b]Rank:[/b] Lance-Corporal
[b]Magic-Rank:[/b] N/A
[b]Goals/Aspirations:[/b]
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Though he once dreamed of reviving family glory, now all Ioannis hopes for is a place to sleep on after fighting the enemy. He has a greater, idealistic goal of letting the Roman Empire be eternal balanced out by the mere desire for tomorrow to be at least no worse than today. 
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[b]Personality:[/b] 
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Ioannis has a conflict of his many natures quite clear in his personality. The Varangian and Greek cultures don't clash too much but his official status, combined with what culture [i]expects[/i] of him, along with in-born optimism over-shadowed by personal experience gives him many issues. He can't be a great Nordic Viking brute Lord when he has witnessed what war is really like - and hasn't liked it, and doesn't have cash to flaunt like a proper noble. Nevertheless, a somewhat silver tongue makes sure that he knows exactly when to speak and how to use words. Whenever there's a soiree or ball with food and pretty ladies, he'll casually inform the organizer of it of his noble origins, making up a suitably dashing story about joining the low ranks because he wants to make something of himself. 
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[b]Backstory:[/b]
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The more boastful of the Sveinaldssons claim origin from the Viking Princes of Kiev while the more depressed and poor grimly say they were bloody nuisances who eventually settled with the Normans in Britain as farmers. The truth is somewhere in between, with the now all but forgotten head of the family "Sveinald" being a descendant Varangian arrivals in the Baltic region of Plescow. However, it was soon clear that not all was good in these lands when Teutonic Knights were going East while steppe nomads West. So, Sveinald had gathered together some men to form a Hird, and went South. After much sailing they had eventually reached Roman lands and had along with various other Nordmen pledged allegiance to the Emperor joining the elite Varangian Guard. 

While for centuries they were prosperous carrying the title of Konostaulos, it had over the many centuries become little more than an honorific. Meanwhile, the family did not as other nobles diversify their wealth by owning land and business. This is where the life of Ioannis begins. His family now owned little more than the crumbling ancestral house on the outskirts of the capital and a few heirlooms.  

As a child he went into a choir and it seemed he'd go into a monastic life but the death of his elder brother meant the family had minus one provider. Naturally, the impressionable young lad went in to join the Hussars. At his age of fifteen he was already quite susceptible to peers having a go, but when he tried to flaunt his de jure status as noble this only got him a fine arse-kicking. Nevertheless, it was while painful a good lesson about his place in the world. The ending of Ioannis's training nearly perfectly coincided with the start of the Mamluk revolt and he along with the rest were deployed to quell it. 

The war there was an education to say the least. The combat there was much different from that which would be done by the more technologically advanced lands in Europe. There was much guerilla war, and the well trained forces of the Dragoons at times fell like flies to hidden militias. Though earlier the lad hated his comrades their deaths one by one were horrifying for someone but sixteen. Near the end of the conflict the Bandon was all but annhillated with the men in it now veterans. After "heroism" in an ambush he was promoted to Lance-Corporal, his current rank. 

Now, with what he picked off of dead comrades and enemies he awaits his next deployment, praying that this one won't be like the last.
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