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Current Novus date and time is

▶ Year || 502
▶ Season || Fall
▶ Temp || 35℉ (℃) - 69℉ (℃)
▶ Weather || The heat of the summer has begun to wane and cooler weather is spreading across Novus. Frost glistens in the morning light of some regions and the trees have shed their lush shades of green for those of red and orange. It is Fall now, but winter will soon be fast upon its heels.

Spotlight

Character of the Season
Eik

Member of the Season
Katherine

Thread of the Season
A Midsummer Night's Dream

Pair of the Season
Acton and Bexley

Quote of the Season
"If Reich had been the gunsmoke, Rhoswen was the gun - their youth swayed like washing in the wind, peaceful and unassuming, as though if they tried hard enough they might be able grab hold of it. Wasn't that the deceit of peaceful things? They drifted like butterflies just out of your reach." — Rhoswen in she was always meant to be a star

see here for nominations


DISCORD

Roshan
Day Court Youth


The Character


Offline

▶ Age: 2 [Year 500 Spring]
▶ Gender: Male
▶ Pronouns: He/Him/His
▶ Orientation: Bisexual
▶ Breed: Paint Cross
▶ Height: 15.1 hh
▶ Health: 12
▶ Attack: 8
▶ Experience: 10
▶ Signos: 5 (Donate)

▶ Joined: 03-25-2018
▶ Last Visit: 06-27-2018, 05:37 AM
▶ Total Posts: 0 (Find All Posts)
▶ Total Threads: 0 (Find All Threads)

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Roshan
The bastard son


Name: Roshan
Race: Pegasus
Height: 15.1 hh
Breed: Paint Cross
Color: Tobiano
- brown and white
Eye Color: Mahogany
Mane: Brown and white
Tail: Brown
- Thick hair, always kept in three braids
Wings: Mottled with whites, browns, and tans
Other Markings:
- Four white legs
- Bald face


This little thief is just that; petite in size but rather broad in stature. He has the build of a warrior, of a rogue street-brawler, both nimble and packed with lithe muscle. Just the right amount of bulk accentuating his frame to allow him to be aesthetically pleasing, and the stallion’s hind end is strong and supple, his chest deep, and his girth broad.

His coloring is that of a bay paint tobiano. Roshan’s dusty white body is covered in large patches of light and dark brown, his color bleaching out terribly during the hot summer months. Four white legs lead down to cream-colored hooves, and despite their color his hooves are hardy and sharp. A bald white face covers a majority of Roshan’s handsome head, rich, emotional mahogany eyes peering through circles of deep brown. Small tan spots freckle and dot along the tip of the thief’s muzzle, each one seeming to frame an innocently charming smile.

In an effort to keep the dual-colored tresses out of the way, Roshan stubbornly keeps his mane and tail braided up. The locks are surprisingly long whenever unbraided; his tail is thick and voluptuous, requiring three separate braids just to keep it out of the way. He constantly bemoans the upkeep and will continually say that he should just cut it all off, but secretly he is rather vain about his hair and will do no such thing.

Roshan’s wings are the same mottled tans, white, and browns of his body. The appendages are strong and broad, powerful and ready to sweep the renegade into a quick getaway whenever the need comes.

The most notable and defining factor is the yellow sun marking that Roshan has upon his left shoulder. As of this moment he does not know what it truly means, but one day soon that might just change.





Roshan is an enigma, a mystery unto himself. A contradiction embodied by painted flesh, he stands both for and against his very own beliefs and codes of conduct. With this bastard prince, nothing is really as it may seem.

So many words can be used to describe this street-rat, this desperate thief who hides in the shadows and only lets himself be seen by prying eyes when he wants to be seen. Too few of those words are actually known. Not many attempt to get to know the orphan-thief, because not many are allowed to be close enough.

The Heart of a Warrior – Roshan is just that. He is very much true to his Solterran heritage; powerful, strong, and adaptable. While never trained as a soldier, nor ever having received formal training in any form, the young thief is remarkably adept on the battlefield all the same. Some may say that his fighting style is ‘unrefined and that of a dirty cheater’, but Roshan himself calls it ‘dishonorable combat’. After all, ‘honor’ meant very little when you were dead. He’s a fierce fighter, using his speed and stature in an aggressive onslaught when encountering his foes and will use any means necessary to emerge the victor. Be they fellow street-rats, civilians, soldiers, or nobles, Roshan doesn’t care; they are all his enemies.

The Soul of a Thief – His true calling, Roshan is most at home on the dusty streets of the Solterran capitol. A thief for the duration of his life, stealing is second nature to him, as simple as breathing. He’s an accomplished thief in his own right, with a surprisingly refined taste for things knowledgeable or shiny. The street-rat has been known to steal books, jewelry and gemstones, rare artifacts, exotic tapestries, ceremonial weapons, and even foreign spices. Nothing is off limits. Roshan is materialistic and oftentimes greedy, hoarding prizes in his hide-out. Some of them he keeps locked away, and others he sells for a profit with the questionable dealers of the black market.

The Mind of an Orphan – Due to his upbringing and life on the streets, Roshan has always been thirsty for knowledge, for understanding. Some may find it quite surprisingly that he’s incredibly educated, but again, not by proper sources. Since a young age, the boy stole any book he could get away with, teaching himself to read, to learn, to understand. To survive, one had to be smart, and Roshan’s appetite for survival was voracious. He’s sophisticated when he needs to be, suave and brazen with a lackluster arrogance, but much prefers the down-to-earth ‘realism’ of his lifestyle. Not even when he learns the truth of his heritage, the whole truth, will he change.

No Prize is too Great – Roshan does not care about how his actions may affect others, nor the repercussions his dealings might have. All he cares about is making a heist. To obtain the prize. Everything else comes second. When on a heist, his eyes remain focused on the task at hand and will do whatever he has to in order to achieve his goal.

Codes of Conduct – A thief first and foremost, Roshan lives by a not-so-strict set of rules. Sometimes he’ll abide by his own code, and others he’ll push them to the wayside if it better suits his end goal. His ‘code of conduct’ goes something like this;
- Rule One: Everyone is the enemy. This is what has kept Roshan alive since the passing of his sickly mother. She had whispered into his ears as a youngling, ‘Trust no one, Ro. No one at all. They will hurt you. They will kill you. To them, you are nothing, as so they must be to you.’ Roshan lives by these words.
- Rule Two: Nothing is free. People are not nice. People are greedy and self-absorbed, especially in the cruel lands of Solterra where resources are scarce and friendly faces even more so. No act of kindness is random or without an expected reward. No handout is free, so expect to return it in one shape or another. Or, just refuse the help. That’s far less of a headache
- Rule Three: Everything has a price. No matter what it might be, everything can be sold or bought, depending on the price. One just has to know where to find the appropriate vendor. Luckily, Roshan is quite a familiar face among the stalls of Solterra’s black market. Rumor has it that he even does dealings with the Pearl Mistress herself.
- Rule Four: Children are off limits. This is the one rule that Roshan will never break, for any reason. No matter what, children are off limits. They are not to be harmed, stolen from, or harassed. To do so will be countered with bloodshed.

And, of course, Everything Else – A contradiction is what he is, beneath his Heart, Soul, and Mind. Sometimes he flirts and smiles dashingly at those he meets, all cocksure grins and knowing eyes, yet Roshan has little to no experience to back up his own words. Despite his arrogance and cool demeanor, the bastard-prince is remarkably bashful, having moments of self-doubt and anxiousness. When not in the adrenaline inducing element of thievery, Roshan is nearly a stranger, even to himself; quiet, thoughtful, an introvert who enjoys his privacy and his own space… When in love or around someone who he cares deeply for, he shows a far more gentle side, a more passionate ensemble.




By now surely everyone knows the story of Zolin, the Boy-King of Solterra. If they do not know it, then they surely at least know the name, whispered on the wind of a nation trying valiantly to right itself from inner destruction and turmoil. To some, the name brings fear. To others, it brings anger. To most, it brings relief, because his tyrannical reign is finally over.

Roshan’s story truly begins where Zolin’s ultimately ends.

Rohati was young when she was brought before Zolin to join his harem. An exotic thing, petite and slender, she was colored in lovely tobiano markings of rich mocha and ivory. With wings of downy alabaster and large mahogany eyes, Rohati was a treasure, coveted and selfishly hidden away from the rest of the world.

At first, she had thought that life among the harem was simple and luxurious. Dressed in the finest silks and gemstones that could be found, she and the others of the Boy-King’s harem were paraded around like trophies. Oh, but there were many of them, for Zolin’s greed knew no bounds. He could never be satisfied. Some of the harem, Rohati befriended. Others detested the beautiful young mare with the alluring smile and benevolent spirit.

Life in the harem troupe, however, was not as luxurious behind closed doors as it seemed.

They were used and abused, helpless before their master. Whatever Zolin wanted, they had no choice but to obey. It came as no surprise when Rohati discovered that she was pregnant with the Boy-King’s child. Months passed and the size of her belly grew, along with the tensions of Solterra. The nation was in a state of unrest. Talk of mutiny and murder were whispers on the wind. The harem was kept under lock and key, protected and imprisoned within the pretty palace. A ’gilded coffin’, one called it. They weren’t wrong.

Rohati gave birth to a son among the care of her harem-sisters. He was a small thing, but immediately Rohati loved him. Roshan, she named him; named for her older brother who had been killed in the war. As a young colt, the boy remained meekly at his mother’s side, never straying far. Playing or frolicking was a foreign notion, for the harem, mothers or not, were hoarded selfishly.

A single night was all it took to throw everything into madness. Someone murdered Zolin, slitting the Boy-King’s throat and leaving his body to rot. After that, the Capitol was stormed and the noble houses were ransacked and razed, the rebels unrelenting and merciless as they stormed the homes and palace alike and left bodies and fire in their wake. Rohati took her young son and fled into the night, whisking him away before he, Zolin’s direct heir and successor of the throne, could be killed in cold blood. Mother and son went into hiding, and to the knowledge of everyone who survived the rebellion, the last of Zolin’s line died with him.

Roshan, as he grew, remembered none of this. His youth was an enigma, something that he mercilessly did not remember. He and Rohati lived on the street among the common people, barely managing to scrape by in the harsh environment. As he grew, his foal coat shed out to reveal the mark of a brazen sun upon his shoulder, and Rohati was adamant about hiding it. They had each other, and that was enough… Yet it did not take long for Roshan to develop an appreciation for materialistic things.

He was just hitting one year old when he made his first successful heist, driven to brash desperation by the death of his sick mother. Roshan’s first catch was a satchel of books from a visiting Delumine scholar, which he hoarded in his hideout. From there, he stole food, pockets of water, gemstones, jewelry, exotic goods, and anything else of value. The young thief grew to appreciate knowledge, and continued to steal books every now and then, from the markets to even sneaking into the Capitol’s library to whisk away novels and writings of all kinds.

Roshan soon fell in with a small group of like-minded individuals; they stole from others and reaped the benefits, just because they could. He did, of course, have his own ‘code of ethics’. He continues to live by such a saccharine, self-indulgent lifestyle, even now as he’s growing into a young adult, oblivious to the true meaning of the sun he wears upon his chest.


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