Sir Tristan, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Genesis

There is little about Tristan that is 'remarkable' or 'unique'. While he has grayed and silvered with age, he is still strong, still proud, still capable. There is a nimble grace in the way that he moves, an eloquence as he traverses the lands. His pace is confident and he carries himself upright and poised, his presence itself commanding and daring, yet soothing like a stalwart stone.

His body is a sooty buckskin with faint pangare, mottled by the touch of silver from age. It is most noticed in the chestnut and white of his face and in the strands of his ombre mane and tail, but otherwise he retains his eloquent and baroque build remarkably well.

Tristan's most striking features are surely his eyes. A keen, bright, brilliant turquoise, his stare is fierce and cool at the best of times, yet vastly expressive. In his older years the man has done far less talking than he did when younger, and instead lets his deep stare articulate what he chooses to not say with words.

He is quiet, this Knight of the Genesis, aloof at the best of times and terribly reclusive. There is no doubt that he prefers his solitude, choosing to live and reside in the depths of the Arma Mountains where few can find him. Of course, resources are scarce and so oftentimes he is seen in the markets of the Courts, predominantly those of Denocte or Terrastella.

Those who manage to exchange a few words with him call him 'polite' and 'charismatic', but they hardly know him other than through business. They say he smiles easily, but his smiles never truly reach his eyes.

There is a depth to him, however, endless and consuming in a place where few can see. Hidden beneath layers of despair, heartache, and unfathomable loneliness, is a man who desires more, a man who does not want to simply settle for less than what he has been given. The fire to pursue such a life has gone out, however, and Tristan struggles to overcome the crushing weight of his depression.

Yet he is determined. Oh, but he is determined. Tristan is stalwart in most things, touched and seasoned by both age and experience to react accordingly. He thinks most things through before acting, picking and choosing his actions and very aware of what risks may arise as a result. He is tactile and keen, smart and witty, and once he opens up, one might be surprised by the sharp tongue and charismatic presence he can exude.

Tristan has no patience for petty and pointless drama. Very few instances can force him to lose his seemingly endless patience, but gossip, rabble, and petty behavior are an easy way to toe such a line.



As most Knights are, Tristan possesses a fierce, unfaltering dedication and sense of both loyalty and honor. He is noble-born, and while not nobility, he was raised by an honorable Knightly father and a fierce mother. Honor is important to him, and as such, fairness in all things is to be upheld, on and off of the battlefield.

Age, however, has made him tired and complacent. He has little desire to participate in skirmishes or violence, but he also lacks the will to try and talk his way out of it. Quite honestly, if any form of interaction can be avoided, that is the path he would surely take... But that path may not be open for much longer.

Tristan does not speak of the world in which he was born, not with detail, anyway. Some may say that it is partially because he cannot remember it, being as old as he is, yet others claim that it is simply too painful of a memory. Regardless, the truth is known only to him, and that is how it will stay.

He was born in a land distant from Novus, an average world of happiness and grief, of love and war. He had a family; a mother, a father, siblings… Yet they were gone mere months after his birth, taken or lost by the fake-god that usurped the Gods of his homeland and crushed the world itself into dust. The only clarity he holds from that time are the words of the Usurper, motioning the terrified and huddled masses through a dark, swirling vortex with a saccharine smile that promised nothing but anguish. ’Pass through or die.’



The Omnium, a Knightly Order of this world of Novus, a unity of the Five. Knights that serve their Patron Deities, lifting their blades and their voices for the righteous, for the virtuous, for the honorable servitude of defending the public, they rise to the call of war in the name of peace and tranquility, to quell discourse and bloodshed.

Tristan was found by Sir Sophus, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Dawn. A wise and kind fellow, he took Tristan under his proverbial wing and introduced him to the Omnium. Arriving to this world alone and confused, joined only by his father's draconic companion Merlin, he had no choice but to follow... Yet the blood of his Knightly father ran through his veins, and he took to such a lifestyle like a fish takes to water.

He spent his youth as a humble squire, meeting the members of the Order and doing what he could to make a name of himself. As he grew, he learned. The Omnium was comprised by different 'sects', individuals that held the Chivalric Titles of their respective Courts or Deities upon Knighthood; Dawn for Oriens and Delumine, Day for Solis and Solterra, Dusk for Vespera and Terrastella, Night for Caligo and Denocte, and Genesis for Tempus, the All Creator.

They existed not as a faction of Novus, but as an essence, for their numbers were few but poignant, spread throughout the land to uphold their noble ideals, morals, and traditions. Tristan served them faithfully, training under the other Knights and mastering his abilities with sword, shield, and bow, with both body and mind. Despite his desire to abide by the ideals of the Order, however, there was a selfishness that drove him, the desire for revenge, to find the Usurper who destroyed his home and see the end of him. It was that secret desire that encouraged him to grow, to push himself, to test his limits to their breaking points and beyond.

Years passed, he grew, and he was inevitably knighted. Chest heaving from the aftermath of a battle most foul that lasted three days and three nights, his blade still stained with the red lifeblood of their enemies, Tristan was made to kneel in the muddy wake of their victory by Sophus himself.

'Rise, Sir Tristan, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Genesis.' Tempus, the All Creator. Time.



Tristan dedicated his life to the Omnium. In them he found the family that he had lost to the Usurper, he found friends, he found purpose. The years passed him by and he matured, his skills grew competent, capable, and seasoned. Tristan became a noble, respected veteran amidst the Order. Those he knew and grew up with began to retire, to settle down with their families, yearning to enjoy the last of their golden years that had been so hard won. Experiences were had, battles were waged, peace was won, lost, and won again. Life went on, the cycle an endless circle of motion. Time passed.

Tristan, a veteran in his own right, accomplished and reliable, had one final task to complete before seeking out his own retirement. Word reached them of a man parading as a God who walked their shores, poisoning the world and whispering of danger, of deceit, of death on the horizon. 'An Eternal Darkness,' was the whisper on the wind, 'it's coming. The Harbinger has arrived.'

Sir Tristan, Knight of the Genesis, went to war on a battlefield reserved only for two. The Bellum Steppe became a testament to their fury, their rage, the single witness to their strife, the unfortunate casualty of violence. With weapon, magic, and Merlin's draconic aid, they challenged the Usurper, the fake-god who had stolen everything from him and had crushed his world to dust. There is no record of how long they fought or how bloody their battle became, fighting tooth, hoof, body, magic, and soul against one another, but legends rumored that the legacy of their battle lived on in the distorted, uneven earth left in the wake of the fight.

Wielding his blade, a final blow to the heart of the Usurper was enough to finish the task. Such might of the blow caused the blade to shatter, leaving Tristan with naught but the hilt... Yet with his dying breath, the Usurper laughed a curse to the skies. '... And in the end, there is only time, is there not?'

Victory obtained, vengeance achieved, Tristan returned to the Omnium, his body a testament to his survival. Time passed, as it always did, the endless cycle of repetition... Yet Tristan did not change. He did not age. His features remained the same, locked as they were on the day of the battle against the Usurper. Time passed, and darkness fell, and the Omnium fell with it.

The balance of the world shifted as Caligo's fury overtook the world. The Omnium fell into ruin. Those who followed the Old Ways were lost, and yet Tristan remained. He did what he could to salvage the memory of their Order, to provide hope, to guide... But it crumbled, light giving way to dark, hope giving way to despair.

Through the one hundred years of darkness, Tristan traveled. He crossed the land of Novus, he found passage on ships to sail to different lands... But his heart always brought him back from his journeys abroad, and eventually the balance was restored, light had returned, but hope had not returned with it. The Order dismantled and forgotten, lost to memory, to legend, Tristan found himself a home in the Arma Mountains, cursed with this immortality and the memory of a Pyrrhic battle.

Arcane Weaponry:

Parvus:
- A subtle accent to his overall magic, the Parvus element of Tristan's Arcane Weaponry is the vibrant, glowing turquoise eyes that accompany his spells.

Discipuli: Arcane Sword and Shield
- The most basic level of Arcane Weaponry, the now-broken hilt of Tristan's sword comes alive with a burning, glowing blue arcane 'metal blade'. Connected to his weapon, Tristan has the ability to wield the blade with his mind, the magic blade sharp enough to cut through most materials.
Accompanying his sword is a glowing blue Shield that he can manifest, but balancing and using both Arcane Sword and Shield in tandem is somewhat difficult for him to currently manage.

Vexillum: Arcane Bow
- This next level of magic allows Tristan to keep his distance from a target and have range when in combat. Like both Sword and Shield, the Bow and accompanying arrows carry a iridescent blue glow about them. The arrows are manifestations of arcane bolts, and the Knight can use his mind to draw back the Bow and release each arrow.
Due to the fact the 'components' of the Bow require more mental strain, Tristan cannot use his Sword or Shield at the same time whenever he using his Bow.
Independently, however, at this level Tristan has grown more confident and has mastered both his Sword and Shield.

Periti: Arcane Halberd
- Another melee weapon of Arcane nature, the Halberd permits Tristan to use both his sheer strength and keep his distance from his targets. The polearm weapon is just as the others; manifested of a brilliant glowing blue magic, it is a weapon consisting of an axe blade attached to a six-foot pole, with a deadly sharp pike affixed to one end. The weapon is multi-functional, its purpose to bludgeon, hack, slash, or pierce an opponent.
The Halberd must be used independently, given its length and need for finesse.
At this level, Tristan has gained mastery of his Arcane Bow and rarely misses a shot.

Dominus: Arcane Claymore
- The final level of Tristan's magic grants him the ability to summon a massive, heavy Claymore of iridescent blue. The blade is long, nearly five feet in length from hilt to blade tip, and even though it is comprised of Arcane nature it still takes a considerable amount of focus and exertion to wield.
Tristan can only wield the Claymore alone.
At this level, he has gained proficiency with the Halberd, and is an expert marksman and duelist, with his Bow and Sword.