[color=fdc68a][b]Name:[/b][/color] Darius Abd-al-Hakim

[color=fdc68a][b]Nobility:[/b][/color] Son of the Duke of Tripoli

[color=fdc68a][b]Sex:[/b][/color] Male

[color=fdc68a][b]Race:[/b][/color] Mixed, African & Syrian

[color=fdc68a][b]Age:[/b][/color] 25

[color=fdc68a][b]Physical Description:[/b][/color]
[hider=Darius][img]https://img00.deviantart.net/8570/i/2012/005/8/f/kumos_antus_the_redguard_by_1rich1-d4lfwoy.jpg[/img][/hider][hider=Darius' Scimitar][img]https://d1u5p3l4wpay3k.cloudfront.net/skyrim_gamepedia/1/18/Windshear.png[/img][/hider]
[color=fdc68a][b]Rank:[/b][/color] Cornet

[color=fdc68a][b]Magic-Rank:[/b][/color] None

[color=fdc68a][b]Goals/Aspirations:[/b][/color] By virtue of his father's treatment towards him, Darius has a subconscious psuedo-inferiority complex which is constantly fueling a limitless desire for power and success. He wants nothing more than to ride the coattails of affluence, almost in defiance of his father's cold, unwavering indifference towards him. Anything that serves as a materialistic currency of success is square under Darius' iron sights; the size of his estate, the wealthiness of his friends, the gaudiness of his armaments,  et cetera et cetera. Darius will use any symbol of prosperity to fill his bottomless heart, and his greed for affluence is unbounded. However, above all, Darius aspires for accolades and recognition in his post. He wants nothing more than to hold higher office in the battlefield of the Imperial Tagmata; he is a cardboard cutout of a man propagated by his lust to command respect and wield the force of the Dragoons. 

[color=fdc68a][b]Personality:[/b][/color] Darius is a well spoken individual, having been afforded the rare luxury of a complete education offered by his nobility. He is personable and kind, however places the utmost stock in his post as Cornet. He values achieving the task presented before him by the Tagmata above all else, and all other upshots are inconsequential. All he has ever known is a loyalty to his state, and this is what fills much of his shallow personality. Darius prefers to think tactically of a situation first, rather than charge headlong without properly assessing all the variables. Weighing all decisions, and considering everything a tactical choice is ingrained deeply into who he is.   

[color=fdc68a][b]Backstory:[/b][/color] Darius' father was a French-African noble, something of an uncommon sight. His father, a diamond tycoonist, made his fortune on the backs of the manual labor and slavery of his own race. Incredulously, his father partook in the slave trade during the early 1700s, buying Africans to put them to work tirelessly in his mines. His father was not a self made man himself, his fortunes coming from his father before him. He had also inherited the oligarchy of wealth and autocracy that strangled the province of Tripoli for generations. His father was simply the next to bear the torch of nobility in a region of poverty and exploitation. 

Born to a Syrian handmaiden of his father's, Darius and his father had a cordial, businesslike relationship from birth. His father showed no affection towards him, viewing him solely as a tool that needed to be sharpened. He did not believe Darius was fit to inherit his colossal economic empire, due to what he had said was his "sickly character." Instead, he deemed Darius best suited for a life in the military, claiming Darius was as brash as a Trojan. Darius was sent across the Mediterranean to a boarding school in the Arabian Peninsula in order to train to become an officer in the Tagmata. His father seldom wrote to him, and when he did it was a letter drafted by a butler or a servant informing him of how much was left of his studies. This had never seemed out of the ordinary to Darius; that is, he never truly stopped to consider it. That had just always been the nature of his and his father's relationship, and he never truly stopped to question it.

The school was not a state-sponsored affair, rather it was a private school ran for the children of the wealthy with aspirations to become decorated soldiers. Darius would spend the months practicing swordplay, studying advanced tactics theory, horseback riding, and listening to lectures on how to properly and effectively lead a unit. In the off months, a servant would come by ship to Darius' school and take him through Mosul to Baghdad in order to stay with one of Darius' uncles for the summer. Darius' uncle was a wealthy Arabian farmer, one who had little time to be preoccupied with a relative's child. This afforded Darius great personal freedom, and he spent much time exploring the crowded and teeming narrow streets of the city. Summers in Baghdad were hot and fast, and the days seemed to bleed together; it always ended too soon, and it was back to the schoolyard for Darius. 

At his graduation from the Academy, his father was not able to come to congratulate him. A servant was sent as an envoy of his father's in order to congratulate him in his perseverance through his studies. After returning home by ship to little fanfare, his father paid his commission to join the Tagmamta as an officer. All that was left was to await his assignment, and to go through formal training. Darius was not worried however; he had prepared his whole life for this, dedicated his entire livelihood to this sole cause.