Post by Vanya Volkov on Jul 28, 2021 0:22:42 GMT
Name: Vanya Volkov
Age: 27
Nationality: Kandori
Place of Birth: Canluum, Kandor
Place of Residence: Tar Valon
Affiliation: Shienar
Rank/Title: Soldier
One Power Strength: None (non-channeler)
Talents: Wolfbrother
Weapon Skills:
Martial: 6 | Hand-Held: 7 | Stave: 5 | Thrown: 4 | Ranged: 9 | Mounted: 3
Height: 5'11"
Weight: average
Build/Complexion: Tall and strong, light skin
Eye/Hair Color: Dark brown hair, yellow eyes
Face Claim: Alex Fitzalan
Distinguishing Features:
Although he is not the brightest crayon in the box, Vanya tries his best. That's a pretty good summary for his entire personality. He is a gentle, kind-hearted man. His humble, mild nature makes him pleasant to speak with, even if he doesn't quite understand all the subtleties of etiquette. At times his choice of career might seem odd. He often thinks so.
Yet perhaps it isn't so strange, really: every Borderlander knows that duty is heavier than a mountain, and Vanya is no exception. He is an honest man, sometimes painfully so. His step-father and many of his uncles were not--and as if in retaliation for this, Vanya is certain never to break his word once he has given it. He binds himself tightly with honour he has picked up on his own, having never been taught any. You'd be hard-pressed to get him to abandon it: he can be very stubborn once he's set his mind to something.
He isn't a complete fool, however; Vanya is naturally a bit mistrustful and wary, especially after discovering his affinity for wolves, and it takes some time to get him to warm up to you. He'll be polite, but there aren't many people he'd really consider a friend. Any true friend of his is a friend for life, though. He's loyal to the last.
Born in early summer, Vanya had a warm start to life. The eldest of two children, his parents doted on him and the younger brother that came a few years after. His father was a trapper, trading furs and animal skins for a living, while his mother was a weaver originally from Andor. Though they lived in Canluum, his father would often venture out into the countryside and brought his boys with him. His earliest memories are always with his father, learning to follow game trails and move silently in the woods. He felt that he lived with a foot in each world--one rooted in all the attractions of the city, and one planted in the wilderness.
When his father failed to return home one day, Vanya insisted on accompanying the party searching for him. It was impossible, Vanya remembered saying. His father could not have gotten lost. His father could not have been crushed by a tree, or slipped from a cliff, or drowned in a stream--he had watched his father. To the boy of twelve, his father had been as quick as a sparrow and as light-footed as a lynx. Nature could never have claimed him for her own so easily. His mother forbade him from following, but Vanya slipped out anyway; he'd nearly made it out of the city before they caught him and sent him home.
When the men returned a couple days later empty-handed--having found no sign of him--Vanya could not believe it, either. How could his friends give up so easily on him? Why did his mother not let him search, when of all of them, Vanya surely knew him best? He knew all the trails his father used, what sort of places he would hide his traps, where he liked to set up camp--and indeed, Vanya tried three more times to find him.
The last time he was caught, he’d made it all the way to a bordering village before they found him. He could see how they'd tracked him--a part of him had hoped, perhaps, they would follow--but he could not understand why they did not aid him. He could not understand when his mother forced him to swear an oath not to search for his father again.
That was the beginning of the shadow that touched his life.
A year later, his mother remarried. Her new husband--his step-father--was also Kandori, but he was as different a man as night and day. Where his father had been straightforward and humble, this man spun his words like silk. He'll be good for the family, his mother had insisted when he questioned her. He's good at what he does.
In Vanya's eyes, what the man did amounted mostly to lying and taking credit for other men's work. How could his mother choose a man like this after marrying his father, his gentle, honest father?
Vanya could not understand. But it didn't matter. His father was still gone and his mother had still married a serpent.
He fought often with his step-father, whose distaste for Vanya was clear. Vanya could guess what the man wanted for a son, and he had no intention of providing it. As he grew older, he started to grasp a little of why his mother kept the man around. A weaver alone could not support their little family--at least not easily or well. But if he ever co-operated, it was only for his mother's sake; the man had a cruel temper.
That temper grew too much for Vanya to bear, however. At the age of fifteen, a fight between him and his step-father led to Vanya leaving. Half-afraid for his life, half-enraged, Vanya fled into the countryside with a few of his belongings.
That was where he first met the wolves.
He was terrified when he saw their shapes in the darkness. Wolves were good luck in the Borderlands, but his mother had also raised him on Andoran stories that said they were Shadowspawn. Vanya did not know which was truth--and, frankly, he was not eager to find out.
But find out he would, whether he welcomed it or not. They seemed to follow him, never venturing too close--and after a time, their company grew familiar. Whatever they were interested in, it was not him. They were not drawn in by the scent of the rabbits he trapped from time to time, nor the pheasants he managed to put an arrow into.
It was only at his first true kill that they made themselves known.
The Trollocs stumbled through the trees, grunting and snorting. Vanya had wandered closer to the edge of the Blight than he'd realized. How the creatures had slipped into the woods undetected--how Vanya had missed them altogether--Vanya didn't know either. There were only a few of them: perhaps they'd gotten separated from some scouting mission. They caught Vanya's scent.
He fought for his life. He slew one with an arrow before the creatures got too close for a bow to be of any use. His hunting knife was too short, too fragile to dent their armour, and Vanya was certain this would be how he died. Still, he fought--and suddenly, he was not alone. Gray, furred shapes joined him. Together, they felled the Trollocs.
He did not know what to make of his victory until the wolves spoke to him.
He searched for the nearest garrison. Had that been how his father had died, he wondered? Had he ventured too far? His father never bore the same yellow eyes he did now. The wolves had not known him. The wolves could not have come to his aid. Vanya had asked them, but they rarely distinguished one human from another. Affairs of men held little interest for them, and the closer Vanya ventured towards the lands of men, the more distant the wolves became. It was clear to him now: he was a Wolfbrother. The name was little-known, but he knew the stories of Perrin Goldeneyes. The wolves had saved his life, and he now owed them to fight the Shadow.
He learned that his travels had taken him to Shienar. Though he knew his way around a bow, his other skills were sorely lacking. He trained with Shienaran soldiers in Fal Dara, where he entered the service of a noble house. He was granted a sword on his nineteenth name-day by a captain he had grown close to, for his own father was unable to do so. He served there for some years until--as he matured--he grew ever more aware of the family he’d left behind in Kandor. At the beginning of his twenty-third spring, he decided he was long overdue to return home.
On the ride home, however, he got caught up in a storm. Vanya had known it was a mistake to accept a horse. Never in all his training did he manage to become comfortable with riding, and he could barely control his mount in this weather. When a sudden thunderclap startled his horse and those of the others trying to cross, he was thrown off.
He fell off the bridge he’d been attempting to cross and into the river. The deep, dark current sucked him in. He was certain he would drown there--he’d never been a strong swimmer, and he was weighed down by his sword and his armour--when a hand suddenly reached out. He grabbed it for dear life.
To his amazement, a woman had pulled him from certain death. A woman named Ginelle Zaitseva. He swore an oath to her there and then, pledging to repay the debt--with his life, if need be. Vanya was a man of honour, after all, and he would not forget an act such as this. Yet the woman, strangely enough, didn’t seem particularly impressed. She did not accept his company. That troubled him: how was he to protect her from a distance? She refused to tell him where he was going, and he only was able to garner a name before she left. Even more infuriatingly, she left the city without his even knowing about it.
For the moment, he saw to his family. When he returned to Canluum, however, he learned that the only one who remained was Boris. Vanya despaired to learn that his mother had passed on to some illness a year ago, and his step-father had vanished and was presumably dead. His brother had taken over his step-father's affairs and wealth.
He should have approached his brother. He should have reached out, again--but he could not bring himself to face him. He tried to justify his actions to himself, telling himself that he didn't know what sort of man Boris was now. The truth, though, was that he was too ashamed. Too ashamed that he had abandoned his family, and he was certain that Boris would never forgive him for it.
Instead, Vanya turned his attentions to what he could do right. There was the matter of the woman who held his oath. Between serving in Shienar, he spent his free hours searching for some clue of who she was or where she'd gone. He managed to find a Kandori merchant who knew her: she was the daughter of two merchants, and she had vanished some years back.
Eventually, he determined that she may have headed to Tar Valon. It was only a chance, but Vanya was ready to take it. He rode south. He meant to keep his oaths. At least one person in his family would not be an oathbreaker. If that had to be Vanya, then so be it.
TIMELINE
Books read: all, including New Spring
Age: 27
Nationality: Kandori
Place of Birth: Canluum, Kandor
Place of Residence: Tar Valon
Affiliation: Shienar
Rank/Title: Soldier
One Power Strength: None (non-channeler)
Talents: Wolfbrother
Weapon Skills:
Martial: 6 | Hand-Held: 7 | Stave: 5 | Thrown: 4 | Ranged: 9 | Mounted: 3
APPEARANCE
Height: 5'11"
Weight: average
Build/Complexion: Tall and strong, light skin
Eye/Hair Color: Dark brown hair, yellow eyes
Face Claim: Alex Fitzalan
Distinguishing Features:
- Vanya is a tall man. He is fit and well-built thanks to years of life as a soldier, though as a boy he tended towards gangliness. His lankiness hasn’t been completely lost, even as a man.
- He has light skin that tans easily. The shape of his jaw is somewhere between round and squared, not overly blocky nor overly smooth, and he has a prominent nose.
- His hair is thick, wavy, and dark brown, nearly black. He usually keeps it cropped short.
- Unlike many Kandori men, Vanya does not wear a forked beard. He is usually clean-shaven on account that beards make him feel itchy. This may have more to do with the fact that he left Kandor before he could grow a proper beard, though he does not wear the Shienaran top-knot either.
- Before his ability manifested itself, Vanya had dark brown eyes. They are now a vivid golden colour, as with all Wolfbrothers.
PERSONALITY
Although he is not the brightest crayon in the box, Vanya tries his best. That's a pretty good summary for his entire personality. He is a gentle, kind-hearted man. His humble, mild nature makes him pleasant to speak with, even if he doesn't quite understand all the subtleties of etiquette. At times his choice of career might seem odd. He often thinks so.
Yet perhaps it isn't so strange, really: every Borderlander knows that duty is heavier than a mountain, and Vanya is no exception. He is an honest man, sometimes painfully so. His step-father and many of his uncles were not--and as if in retaliation for this, Vanya is certain never to break his word once he has given it. He binds himself tightly with honour he has picked up on his own, having never been taught any. You'd be hard-pressed to get him to abandon it: he can be very stubborn once he's set his mind to something.
He isn't a complete fool, however; Vanya is naturally a bit mistrustful and wary, especially after discovering his affinity for wolves, and it takes some time to get him to warm up to you. He'll be polite, but there aren't many people he'd really consider a friend. Any true friend of his is a friend for life, though. He's loyal to the last.
HISTORY
Born in early summer, Vanya had a warm start to life. The eldest of two children, his parents doted on him and the younger brother that came a few years after. His father was a trapper, trading furs and animal skins for a living, while his mother was a weaver originally from Andor. Though they lived in Canluum, his father would often venture out into the countryside and brought his boys with him. His earliest memories are always with his father, learning to follow game trails and move silently in the woods. He felt that he lived with a foot in each world--one rooted in all the attractions of the city, and one planted in the wilderness.
When his father failed to return home one day, Vanya insisted on accompanying the party searching for him. It was impossible, Vanya remembered saying. His father could not have gotten lost. His father could not have been crushed by a tree, or slipped from a cliff, or drowned in a stream--he had watched his father. To the boy of twelve, his father had been as quick as a sparrow and as light-footed as a lynx. Nature could never have claimed him for her own so easily. His mother forbade him from following, but Vanya slipped out anyway; he'd nearly made it out of the city before they caught him and sent him home.
When the men returned a couple days later empty-handed--having found no sign of him--Vanya could not believe it, either. How could his friends give up so easily on him? Why did his mother not let him search, when of all of them, Vanya surely knew him best? He knew all the trails his father used, what sort of places he would hide his traps, where he liked to set up camp--and indeed, Vanya tried three more times to find him.
The last time he was caught, he’d made it all the way to a bordering village before they found him. He could see how they'd tracked him--a part of him had hoped, perhaps, they would follow--but he could not understand why they did not aid him. He could not understand when his mother forced him to swear an oath not to search for his father again.
That was the beginning of the shadow that touched his life.
A year later, his mother remarried. Her new husband--his step-father--was also Kandori, but he was as different a man as night and day. Where his father had been straightforward and humble, this man spun his words like silk. He'll be good for the family, his mother had insisted when he questioned her. He's good at what he does.
In Vanya's eyes, what the man did amounted mostly to lying and taking credit for other men's work. How could his mother choose a man like this after marrying his father, his gentle, honest father?
Vanya could not understand. But it didn't matter. His father was still gone and his mother had still married a serpent.
He fought often with his step-father, whose distaste for Vanya was clear. Vanya could guess what the man wanted for a son, and he had no intention of providing it. As he grew older, he started to grasp a little of why his mother kept the man around. A weaver alone could not support their little family--at least not easily or well. But if he ever co-operated, it was only for his mother's sake; the man had a cruel temper.
That temper grew too much for Vanya to bear, however. At the age of fifteen, a fight between him and his step-father led to Vanya leaving. Half-afraid for his life, half-enraged, Vanya fled into the countryside with a few of his belongings.
That was where he first met the wolves.
He was terrified when he saw their shapes in the darkness. Wolves were good luck in the Borderlands, but his mother had also raised him on Andoran stories that said they were Shadowspawn. Vanya did not know which was truth--and, frankly, he was not eager to find out.
But find out he would, whether he welcomed it or not. They seemed to follow him, never venturing too close--and after a time, their company grew familiar. Whatever they were interested in, it was not him. They were not drawn in by the scent of the rabbits he trapped from time to time, nor the pheasants he managed to put an arrow into.
It was only at his first true kill that they made themselves known.
The Trollocs stumbled through the trees, grunting and snorting. Vanya had wandered closer to the edge of the Blight than he'd realized. How the creatures had slipped into the woods undetected--how Vanya had missed them altogether--Vanya didn't know either. There were only a few of them: perhaps they'd gotten separated from some scouting mission. They caught Vanya's scent.
He fought for his life. He slew one with an arrow before the creatures got too close for a bow to be of any use. His hunting knife was too short, too fragile to dent their armour, and Vanya was certain this would be how he died. Still, he fought--and suddenly, he was not alone. Gray, furred shapes joined him. Together, they felled the Trollocs.
He did not know what to make of his victory until the wolves spoke to him.
He searched for the nearest garrison. Had that been how his father had died, he wondered? Had he ventured too far? His father never bore the same yellow eyes he did now. The wolves had not known him. The wolves could not have come to his aid. Vanya had asked them, but they rarely distinguished one human from another. Affairs of men held little interest for them, and the closer Vanya ventured towards the lands of men, the more distant the wolves became. It was clear to him now: he was a Wolfbrother. The name was little-known, but he knew the stories of Perrin Goldeneyes. The wolves had saved his life, and he now owed them to fight the Shadow.
He learned that his travels had taken him to Shienar. Though he knew his way around a bow, his other skills were sorely lacking. He trained with Shienaran soldiers in Fal Dara, where he entered the service of a noble house. He was granted a sword on his nineteenth name-day by a captain he had grown close to, for his own father was unable to do so. He served there for some years until--as he matured--he grew ever more aware of the family he’d left behind in Kandor. At the beginning of his twenty-third spring, he decided he was long overdue to return home.
On the ride home, however, he got caught up in a storm. Vanya had known it was a mistake to accept a horse. Never in all his training did he manage to become comfortable with riding, and he could barely control his mount in this weather. When a sudden thunderclap startled his horse and those of the others trying to cross, he was thrown off.
He fell off the bridge he’d been attempting to cross and into the river. The deep, dark current sucked him in. He was certain he would drown there--he’d never been a strong swimmer, and he was weighed down by his sword and his armour--when a hand suddenly reached out. He grabbed it for dear life.
To his amazement, a woman had pulled him from certain death. A woman named Ginelle Zaitseva. He swore an oath to her there and then, pledging to repay the debt--with his life, if need be. Vanya was a man of honour, after all, and he would not forget an act such as this. Yet the woman, strangely enough, didn’t seem particularly impressed. She did not accept his company. That troubled him: how was he to protect her from a distance? She refused to tell him where he was going, and he only was able to garner a name before she left. Even more infuriatingly, she left the city without his even knowing about it.
For the moment, he saw to his family. When he returned to Canluum, however, he learned that the only one who remained was Boris. Vanya despaired to learn that his mother had passed on to some illness a year ago, and his step-father had vanished and was presumably dead. His brother had taken over his step-father's affairs and wealth.
He should have approached his brother. He should have reached out, again--but he could not bring himself to face him. He tried to justify his actions to himself, telling himself that he didn't know what sort of man Boris was now. The truth, though, was that he was too ashamed. Too ashamed that he had abandoned his family, and he was certain that Boris would never forgive him for it.
Instead, Vanya turned his attentions to what he could do right. There was the matter of the woman who held his oath. Between serving in Shienar, he spent his free hours searching for some clue of who she was or where she'd gone. He managed to find a Kandori merchant who knew her: she was the daughter of two merchants, and she had vanished some years back.
Eventually, he determined that she may have headed to Tar Valon. It was only a chance, but Vanya was ready to take it. He rode south. He meant to keep his oaths. At least one person in his family would not be an oathbreaker. If that had to be Vanya, then so be it.
TIMELINE
- Summer 86 FA: Vanya is born in Canluum, Kandor.
- Autumn 89 FA: Vanya’s younger brother, Boris, is born.
- Spring 98 FA: Vanya’s father fails to return from trapping in the wilderness.
- Winter 99 FA: Vanya’s mother remarries.
- Summer 101 FA: After a violent argument with his step-father, Vanya runs away from home and wanders the wilderness.
- Autumn 101 FA: Vanya discovers that he can speak to wolves.
- Spring 102 FA: Vanya finds his way to Fal Dara, where he trains with Shienaran soldiers and enters the service of a noble house.
- Summer 105 FA: Vanya is given a sword on his 19th name-day.
- Winter 107 FA: After nearly six years of service, Vanya begins to feel homesick. He decides to return home and see how his family in Kandor are doing.
- Summer 108 FA: Vanya is saved from drowning by Ginelle Zaitseva. He swears an oath to repay his life-debt to her, but she shakes him off. He discovers that his mother passed away a year ago, and his step-father has vanished. His brother has taken over his step-father's affairs. Vanya fails to approach Boris in his shame.
- Autumn 108 FA: Vanya returns to Shienar and begins searching for the whereabouts of Ginelle Zaitseva.
- Summer 112 FA: Vanya discovers that Ginelle Zaitseva was last seen heading to Tar Valon. Having spent more than ten years guarding the Blight, he finally leaves service to track her down.
- Winter 112 FA: Vanya arrives in Tar Valon.
Books read: all, including New Spring
