BLACK Psychologically black means authority, power and control. In many situations it can be intimidating, unfriendly and unapproachable. Alternatively, it can be seen as sophisticated, dignified and serious.
It is intimidating and controlling, although its power can instill confidence in some. Black creates an air of mystery and secrecy. Sometimes people hide behind its unapproachable facade. In very small amounts it can add strength and confidence without becoming overpowering.
GOLD It is seen as the color of inner wisdom, quality and wealth. It is associated with prestige, luxury and material wealth, suggesting that a product or service is expensive and exclusive.
Physiologically, it can induce great feelings of happiness and bliss or alternatively, deep anxiety and fear. It implies generosity of time, money and spirit. It is the color of victory.
These are the colors of the Thayan Knight. Wear them with pride.
These are the colors of Typhon. Be humbled by them.
They are your history. They are your core. They are your future.
OOC: Ahmed's original soundtrack theme, adds more depth to his character I feel.
A formal military document passes hands at the Thayan Embassy of the Enclave at Proskur.
It reads as follows:
Thayan Knight: 2nd Tour, Cormyr
Name: Albayati, Ahmed Rank: Corporal Legion: The Obsidian Order (7th Legion)
Corporal Albayati, is hereby transferred to the Enclave at Proskur. He will serve well in "fostering good relations" with the Crown of Cormyr as we continue to strive for "better trade agreements" with foreign nationals.
Motivated and effective Officers are an absolute must for any successful group. Whether that group is a trade consortium, muster group, a religiously affiliated group... it matters not. That Officer promotions are important decisions, goes without saying. The pool of Privates in the Volunteers is incredibly large and diverse. Selection and promotion to Corporal, and perhaps Sergeant is a task not taken lightly. Be assured of the following:
-only those that have proven themselves to be trustworthy are promoted
-favoritism due to relations outside the Volunteers plays no part, as this can cause conflict and fracture the group
-diversity of the Officer corps within the Volunteers is one of its greatest strengths (ex. Sergeant Trence of Tyr and myself can be considered dynamic opposites, the key being we are both able to work with one another in a professional manner)
-promotion is based on the need to carry out tasks of running the Volunteers effectively, no more and no less
-consideration for promotion is never rushed, many Privates want to be Officers, though in truth few want to be "good" officers; to exert leadership during difficult situations or to accomplish tasks that need to be done without being prompted
I would urge you to consider these traits, be mindful of their benefit and their detriment to a force such as the Volunteers of Greatgaunt.
-Trustworthy: steadfast, reliable, confidential, discreet VS. too personal, too involved in everything, micromanager
-Empathetic: able to see any situation from the perspective of another VS. too tolerant in justifying inappropriate and unprofessional behavior
-Confident: bold, able to carve out a path of action VS. overconfident, blind to mistakes and learning from errors in judgement
-Forceful: knowing when necessary to kick Privates in the hindquarters VS. can easily cross the line into anger, lacking in effective control
-Diplomatic: able to resolve disputes and forge agreements VS. can be adverse to taking decisive action, susceptible to being exploited
-Knowledgeable: a firm grasp of the world and its nuances VS. know-it-all, arrogant, patronizing, impatient
-Mathematical: inclined in optimizing and facilitation of efficiency VS. unable to base a decision on the intangible and incalculable
There are many variables to consider Privates, in a promotion as well as your own futures.
The key lesson to take away from this is that a proper Officer, fosters the growth of other potential leaders, effectively leading by guidance.
Be patient. Be willing. Be prepared.
Corporal Ahmed Albayati Greatgaunt Volunteers Thayan Enclave at Marsember
//ooc: big ups to Scott Andrews's 'The Guild Leader's Handbook, fantastic read!
I am afraid of the Dark I am nervous at Night I am afraid of the Day I cannot stand the Light I am afraid one day Someone Will come to take me Away I am too scared to Leave I am doomed if I Stay
The tent was simple enough. The Thayan touch came by way of an expensive imported rug from Amn, a Marsembian style desk with curves and coiled legs, and a lantern giving a faint glow to the various architectural sketches and invoices.
Ahmed tried to slow his breathing, thinking back to the rhyme taught to Thayan children to strengthen them in the face of adversity. Discipline is best built from a young age.
He often spoke the rhyme before praying to Typhon. A necessity. Simply put, Typhon is evil. He is not the evil of Bane by way of Tyranny. He is not the evil of Cyric by way of Madness. He is not the evil of Shar by way of Entropy.
Typhon -is- Evil. The source in its purest form, long before the dawn he was known as Set. When one spoke to him, it was responded immediately with a cold enveloping darkness. Like silk in its movement but frigid to the touch.
But this time… the rhyme did not work, and this had nothing to do with praying to Typhon. Ahmed's brow twitched as he attempted to control his expression… the lantern's light playing lightly across his features.
His comrade taken… or perhaps given. Ahmed recalled the site vividly… an unexpected occurrence. A form crumpled, twisted, toyed with like a doll on a puppet's strings. Horror.
IT was dangerous, something to be feared, something to be cautious around.
His gloved-hand gripped the armrest.
Ahmed would work throughout the night into the early hours of dawn. He would attempt to control this emotion.
He would fail.
There are few things in this world to truly be feared, IT was one of them.
The fire would crackle every so often, its light faintly outlining the edge of the fireplace... a plush couch, expensive drapery, as with most things Thayan, the suite at the Standing Stone Inn was quite decadent.
Rarely out of armor, Ahmed would stand fireside in a short white garb imported from Mulhorand. The old tattooed man was certainly still fighting fit... even though he really was not as dexterous or flexible as he once was during his youth.
His eyes would be tired, the wrinkles at the corners clearly visible. A healthy man still, but the stresses of long military campaigns have taken their toll. He was after all, only human. Not one of those younglings that augment their forms with wings or skeletal arms or whatever it was they did these days. 'Back in my day...' Ahmed would start to think... "Gods, am I that old already?" He would utter.
There was the hit-and-run tactics of the mixed and fair folk during the Aglarond campaign... excluding the horror that was Queen Simbul.
Worse still, were the muddy and misty wilds of the Rashemen skirmishes. Damned backwards people with their lunatic barbarians and their witches. 'They would come... right out of the mists...' Ahmed would think to himself, his mind drawing back to those events. The tharc at the time had claimed it was in defense of their borders, but Ahmed was always the wiser... still, the end justifies the means.
He would pause, and then shake his head. It would seem Typhon was at work again in the back of his head. He would be sure to tithe well at the god's shrine, for he knew quite well that even the faithful could be betrayed by the source of betrayal.
Slowly pulling back the heavy beddings, he would utter a prayer to Typhon in thanks for the powers granted to him and for having kept him alive for all these years. The light of the fire would dance about, and Ahmed would slowly close his old and tired eyes.
As he drifted off... his last thoughts were to his squire.
"I wonder what that troublesome Darko is up to now... petulant child reminds me too much of myself when I was young..."
A mulhorandi woman of seemingly modest background, it was not until her leave of the ancient kingdom and move into Thay that Nefersit embraced her cause publicly. Worship of Set in Mulhorand was punishable by torturous death. Worship of the same deity in Thay, there known as Typhon, was well enough accepted.
In the summer of the same year, Nefersit gave birth to her first and only child, Ahmed. With no father to claim him, and his mother favoring not to marry, rumors circulated as to the boy's origin.
Nefersit was overly strict with her child, even by Thayan standards. In her mind, this was necessary to foster an academically competitive spirit. Discipline, focus, and strength of will were key.
Her only goal was to form Ahmed into a financially and socially successful individual of note. This was done at the risk of his emotional well being. Taunts, jeers, social shame. Her methods were harsh, but as Set says… the end justifies the means.
Nefersit was a social climber in Thay's elite class, marrying into nobility and becoming well established before her natural death in 1360. Even now she lives on, in the back of Ahmed's mind… unsatisfied with his numerous accomplishments.
It was a rather... different day. As I considered my current state, and the crossroads that was approaching, I felt it appropriate to "take a breather" as the locals say.
What better place than a pub to avoid adventure and the like?
It was very quiet day indeed.
You had your usuals, always standing in the places you expected them to. There was a fellow on the other side of the divider, likely enjoying the ambiance of the fireplace. A balding fellow at the table nearby, and of course the barkeep/innkeeper/merchant licensor.
We did our own individual things, reading a book, order a drink, keeping much to ourselves.
When the road wound towards a conversational encounter,
then I would say I did experience something I had not in quite a long time.
Basic conversation with no goals, tie-ins, and the like.
Just simple... chatter.
Most enjoyable and grounding.
Mister Newport certainly has talent to spare in his field of interest.
I am most curious to see how far he will actually take it. A flash in the frying pan, or a steady flame?
This robust man looks to be in good health. His demeanor exudes a sense of wisdom, and his eyes show a cunning intelligence. He looks to be the spitting image of his father... though he seems to lack his predecessor's statecraft and silver tongue. Atrox has long removed himself from the affairs of Knights and the politics of Wizards. He is reclusive, favoring the wilds as he walks the path of Malar. He had come to Proskur at his father's insistence, but became suspicious of Ahmed's motives, becoming a hermit outside of Cormyr's borders.
He was born of a political marriage between Sir Ahmed and a Thayan noble.
The Favored Son - So'A Albayati: Male, 33
This youthful man gives the impression that he is a well-rounded individual, though one of contradictions. So'A has the look of a contemplative warrior, with but a single circular tattoo set above perspicacious eyes. He has physical characteristics of a father well known, but is his own person by every right.
He was born of an encounter between Sir Ahmed and an unnamed woman of mysterious background.
The Twins - Bukan Albayati: Male, 26 & Nefersit Albayati: Female, 26
Bukan is a short man who looks well suited for the most chaotic of battles. He seems to have difficulty staying still... even worse his temper is seemingly unmanageable and is quick to light. Could it be that this brawler is a disappointment to his father?
It is well known that Nefersit is the favorite of the two. She is well educated and is an apprentice wizard in the school of enchantment. She is silver tongued and skilled in state craft. It is said that only her presence (magically aided or otherwise) keeps her twin calm.
They came to Marsember at their father's urging, as he noted the dangers of the civil war back home in Thay. The pair were born of an encounter with a bedwarmer during one of Sir Ahmed's many tours of duty.
The Younger - Ahmed Albayati (the Younger): Male, 21
The youngest of his children, Ahmed the younger currently serves on a defensive beachhead formed by anti-loyalist garrison of Thayan Knights. The group he serves under is tasked with holding the undead mass on the mainland at bay; they do all they can to stop the chaos of Szass Tam's civil war from spilling onto the island Tharc of Alaor.