Legacy of Mateo Cassini

[Hawthorne]

♛

Mateo Cassini

When You Seek the Good in Others, You Find the Best in Yourself
- John Spence

[[ Most spoilers redacted, but minor ones below - read at your own risk. DO NOT METAGAME! ]]

Birth Name: Mette Jakobsen
Identity: Mateo Cassini
Birthdate: 26th of Flowerbloom, 1322
Birthplace: Nikyet, Arkhess
Birthsign: The Legionnaire

Appearance

Age: 25
Height: 6'0"
Weight:227 lbs.
Eyes: Emerald
Hair: Dirty Blonde
Skin: Lightly Tanned
Handedness: Right
Posture: Relaxed
Hygiene: Good
Scent: Campfire/Fireplace Undertones

Physical Description: Barrel-chested and Sturdy. Wavy blonde hair is usually kept pulled behind the ears and under a Floppy Hat. His matching beard is usually cropped to a goatee, though the cheeks may grow stubbly at times. He has a few scars across the bridge of his large nose. Emerald Green eyes are often squinted under bushy eyebrows. One would not call him the most attractive man, but he is fair enough to look at.

Personality

General Health: No illnesses, Physically Fit
Profession: Lumberjack and Soldier
Faction Affiliation: NONE, at the moment
Languages: Nothryian, Decusian
Accent: Arkhessian, His laugh comes from deep within, though his chuckles are in a low tone and short.
Roleplay Tools: Floppy Hat, Big Honkin Axe

Hobbies: Working and Training
Habits : Mateo has a habit of making light of some serious situations. He copes with his feelings by working himself to the point of exhaustion. He enjoys the sauna.

Personality Description: Mateo seems mostly care-free and outgoing. He is slightly faithful to the Decusian religion, with some reserve. He is loyal to his Family.

History:

Mateo grew up an Orphan at a Legion Outpost in Arkhess. His parents had perished as a horde swept across Kalaasta and into Nikyet. He was found days later by a Legion March.

Taking him in and putting him up in the stables with the Quartermaster, Mateo chopped firewood in exchange for his board. Mateo was often bullied for being scrawny and small, until one day Alexander Cassini, Tessarius of the Outpost, found him beaten and bloodied in the sparring arena. Cassini took Mateo in at the age of 14 and taught him valuable lessons for life and stories about Tor. But Mateo had no interest in becoming a Soldier.

Mateo worked hard; a lesson his real father, Jakob, had instilled in him. He supplied most of the Firewood until he was big enough to carry and load logs. He eventually headed a Logging Camp in the wilderness under the Legion banner.

As a new Horde swept across Arkhess, the Outpost itself had finally been overrun. Having few Legionnaires on standby at the moment, the Outpost fell. Alexander and a few brave soldiers fought valiantly, with Mateo in tow, but finally succumbed. But not before Cassini ordered Mateo to burn the Fort and Run.




Strengths: Caring, Generous, Idealistic, Hard Working, Charming
Weaknesses: Passive, Naive, Uneducated, Jealous

Governing Virtue: Humility
Governing Throne: Falsehood

[Hawthorne]

Squire. Chatelain, even. What a fancy word for errand boy and lumberjack.

What was it that made him feel differently than he did before. It -had- felt like a sense of family. Like he had a new mentor for the first time since his "Father", Alexander Cassini, had died in that fort fire. That fire that Cassini urged Mette to start.

Adam, though Mateo didnt always agree wholeheartedly with what he said, felt like an older brother. And Evangeline, his bride, like an older sister. The way she'd ruffle his hair and tease him. The way Adam showed appreciation for his services, much as a father would boast about a hard-working son when in the presence of others. Things like this had made him feel good about his station in the Parish. Lucien, wanting to take Mateo along on hunts, or go drinking, or stay up late in conversation even when it was most meaningless to anything. Lady Nicolien always seemed to value his opinions. He even felt like they followed some of his own ideas about helping folks in the fort and such. Graelynn, well, he cared dearly for her even if he could not force himself to love her as she did him.

But lately, well. Lately it had been different. Adam had seemingly deserted the family. Not long after his wedding. Eva was a mere husk rowing through the motions of day to day dealings. What feeding the camp laborers or the occasional clearing of the sewers. The sisters seemingly nowhere to be found. And Lucien, skulking about the shadows and eavesdropping on him more often than not. If Mateo could not feel trusted, why bother?

Mateo felt he had done no more than -try- to repair or raise the reputation of the Parish as a whole. But that seemed an insurmountable mountain to climb at times. He'd tried to smooth over the whole ordeal in the caverns. That wasn't easy at all. He'd tried to set up meetings for each side to talk. That wasn't easy at all. He'd defended his rights to do business with whomever he wished. That went over well enough but his hope of dragging some Red along with him to visit people on the other side of town hadn't gone quite as smoothly as he'd hoped.

Where the Hel has Adam been any damned way? Maybe there was a clue somewhere in the Province. Eva just said he was away on business. But that answer wasn't enough for Mateo as he knew entering the QZ was a sentence one did not easily get out of. He'd scour the province and see if he could find the man. Starting with the woods between the Hollow and Lockland.

He had seen the ruined Black Wolves fort. He'd known there was not much left save for ash and rubble. But maybe there was some sort of clue about the remnants. He'd make his way in from the North, through Lockland. He'd cut a trail through the ill that walked the Village with ease. And he would reach the Wolves' Den at Nightfall. The torches he'd picked from the highwayman would come in handy.

He searched finding scrolls with what looked to be names of people or places. But they made little sense to him. He'd study the globe on the desk that held a lantern. But there was not much clue in it. He'd finally leave the place and head back toward Prae. Neci would rent him a horse and he'd give up his search for now.

On his way, he would see a flickering copper colored light emitting a soft glow through the trees. Curiosity would get the better of him this time. He'd make his way up the overgrown path and find a lonely little shack. Upon reaching it, He'd find the Lone Witch chanting in tongues and felt a rush of cold over his bones. It froze him in place as the Witch closed in on him. His blood soon thawed and he'd let his axe rip through her flesh. Dispatching the Witch alone was fairly easy enough. But what came next, would lay him out cold before he even knew what hit him.

Mateo lied there thinking of what would be next as the Revenants made their way back to check on their Witch. He crawled off, back toward the road and found a stump to double over and rest. He'd rest until he regained his breath and he thought about Adam once more. What had he learned from fighting alongside the man? Tactics. He'd creep slowly back up and toss a rock at one of the trio. Picking him out of the pack. The things weren't -easy- but, manageable mano y mano. He'd lay out the first before picking out a second and finally the third.

Neci, steel-hardened horse renter of Briar's Hollow, had a horse ready for him and he'd make his way back to the Parish Hall. Only to find it empty once again. He would wander the districts in search of food and drink. The Risk, all but shut down, Ani hadn't had shit for stock in over a month now. Perhaps it was Constantine's way of forcing the Parish to visit the Bistro. A tactic that had seemed to work, at least against the Squire, a couple times before. He raised the Portcullis and made his way left past the Bathhouse. He'd known Miss Hailey had been selling the Meddler's wares for sometime now. He sat down across from her and raised a finger, sliding three coins across the bar.

Footsteps. An already nervous, out-of-place man, clad in nothing Red in color; looked to the foot of the stairs as the lock was tickled. A half naked man covered in tattoos looked him over and smiled, almost wickedly. Mateo returned the smile, raising the bottle of Curtain Call as the man stepped slowly closer. The Westerner would look him up and down, noting to himself the lack of color in his vestments, and asked, "And how are the -Ravens?"

Mateo, admittedly not knowing how to answer, just shrugged his shoulder and sipped of the spirits.