Their own ambitions are masked by their loyalties to The Sixth House. Because a rising tide lifts all ships, their own status is entwined with The Sixth House, but there will come a day when they feel they've outgrown Ildrafn
Sarischa's upbringing was never pretty. He was forced to make his way on the streets, and carve his own path, and quickly learned that it didn't matter who you hurt or deceived along the way, as long as it never found its way back to you.
He grew up hungry and unwanted, with little sense of loyalty or belonging, which was fine with him. His parentage was a mystery to him, and he found his way to one of the many orphanages, where times were rough and cruel, but it provided just enough to keep him from strvation. He didn't get along with his peers, because they were stupid and easy to manipulate, and they believed that was his fault, somehow. He was in and out of the orphanage constantly, and eventually he encountered a transient priest/follower off Pyx.
The Pyxite saw potential in young Ravana, and took him under his wing, traveling throughout Dunefalle and performing grifts and attending parties. It was exactly what a 14 year-old wanted. Traveling with this priest, he learned the power of lies - but eventually The Pyxite's games and lies led the pair afoul of the Cult of Resshe.
Sarischa then learned that lies were powerful, but the Truth was even greater. And something about the Resshian cult appealed to Ravana's nihilism.
- Gender
- Male
Appearance
Mentality
Personal history
Starving orphan
Met a priest of Pyx
Learned to lie and exploit
Saw the priest killed after crossing cultists of Resshe
Realised that joining the Cult of Resshe was the grandest grift
Learned that there was actual power in Resshe
So he's hungry, cold, and ambitious, but willing to do whatever is necessary to not come across as hungry, cold, or ambitious
After writing that out, it dawns on me that I've just written Neutral Evil Hamilton
Taboos
Sarischa, like many of the Dunefalli, view many of the cultures and customs of Banteave as Barbaric, lacking proper nuance or subterfuge.
In Dunefalle, the more obvious a plot, the greater an insult it is to the victim, as it is an open challenge to their savvy and aptitude. It is believed that many of the greatest plots are unknown, as their payoffs were so subtle that it simply looks like bad fortune.
Open displays of violence, they believe, is the last recourse of the stupid.
Personality
Motivation
Sarischa is a survivor. Whatever he has to do, whatever he has to say, he will, as long as it gets him through to the other side.
Vices & Personality flaws
It's said that Port d'Courre, capitol of Dunefalle is one of the great spectacles of the world. That the marble and gold of the palace shines so bright in the afternoon sun that ships can see it for miles. The streets of the city are veined with silver and copper, and the waters of the canals are so clear and blue that many believe they flow over rich deposits of sapphire and opal.
That was fucking stupid.
If any of that was true, Sarischa wouldn't be so fucking hungry. He briefly allowed the thought to flick through his mind that maybe it had been true one day, but some other hungry soul had gotten there first, scraped the silver out of the city's cobblestones, and pried all of the gems and stones out of the canals. People who believed any of the stories about how the wealth literally "ran through the streets and canals" probably also heard the stories about how marvelous the city smelled at all times. Like roses, or jasmine, or something like that. The city smelled of vomit, desperation, and rotting fish down by the canals - and maybe up near The Coronette you could get away from the stench of slow-moving water and algae, and pretend it didn't exist by hiding in gardens - but for the vast majority of city-dwellers - piss and rot were mostly what you smelled.
"Are you sure we should do this?" Guillaume's voice snapped Sarischa from his bitter line of thought, and his annoyance showed.
"It's just...it's illegal..."
Sarischa paused, looking at the younger boy, then reminded himself. Relax your jaw. Relax your brow. Smile. Soften your features. Eye contact. Make him trust you. Make him believe you. "We shouldn't do this, Guillaume, you're right. We should be getting plenty of food given to us. We shouldn't be this hungry." Guillaume relaxed, the worried tension in his forehead fading.
"So go on, Guillaume, spend some coin to buy us all some food. That's what we should be doing, right?"
Guillaume's face screwed up in confusion, as he tried to process the thought. "But I don't have any co-"
"SO THEN WE DO THE FUCKING PLAN, DON'T WE?" Guillaume's mouth snapped shut, and he looked down as if struck.
"Yes..."
"So go grab a couple of skewers from the fishmonger's grill, and be clever about it."
Guillaume nodded and slipped into the crowd of passersby, working his way towards the fishmonger's cart.
Sarischa sighed, and scanned the crowd for a few moments. He had no time for idiots or the softhearted. Flicking his eyes from face to face as people hustled by in the streets, he spied his mark. A familiar face, out of uniform, but one Sarischa knew well - Edouart, one of the town guard, often spent his afternoons in Port d'Courre's markets, accompanying a laundress on her errands.
Edouart was an idiot, but he'd made it his mission to stymie, disrupt, and forestall any plans Sarischa had in the district with vexxing obstinacy.
Sarischa glanced towards the fishmonger's cart, and saw that Guillaume was getting close. He deftly wove through the foot traffic of the thoroughfare, towards the place where Edouart and the laundress were sharing laughter over some whispered joke. As Guillaume closed in on the cart, so too did Sarischa close in on his quarry. A sharp whistle interrupted Edouart's laughter, and he turned towards the urchin. A moment of confusion, then recognition flashed across the guard's features, and then hesitation.
Sarischa's eyes flicked upwards in a brief display of annoyance, before he raised a single hand, pointing towards the fishmonger's cart - And Guillaume, reaching up to pluck a few skewers off of the grill.
"Thief!" cried Edouart.
"What?" gasped the laundress.
"Where?" shouted a merchant.
"Shit!" whispered Guillaume.
"You!" bellowed the fishmonger.
And within just a few seconds, the streets were clogged with activity. Edouart began pushing and shoving his way through the marketgoers, trying to close the distance between himself and Guillaume, who was desperately trying to scamper off through a forest of legs and hips. A few of the merchants near the fishmonger were starting to come out from behind their carts to try to apprehend the child thief. Several of the other merchants were themselves craning their necks or stepping into the streets to observe the commotion, and Sarischa was nowhere to be seen.
Sarischa was taking advantage of the opportunity to get his hands on everything he could. Every stall he passed at which a merchant was peering down the road or grumbling about "The thief problem these days" - every cart housing a fat baker complaining that "Things have really gone downhill in this district..." was ripe for the picking. No one saw Sarischa, because they were looking for Guillaume, and in the chaos, Sarischa was shopping. It was brazen. It wasn't subtle, or sneaky. But it was successful.
As the gleaming city drew up a blanket of moonlight, and windows began to glow with the light of the warmth they sheltered, Sarischa found himself sitting alone beneath a bridge, listening to the quiet lapping of the waves of the canal, delighting in his pilfered feast. For a moment, he felt something in his gut - some small sense of perhaps guilt over the fact that Guillaume hadn't been able to join him for this meal, but he quickly tamped it down, imagined it was hunger, and sated it with a mouthful of a sticky sweet bread. Guillaume had to learn. There was a hard line drawn between the way things should have been, and the way things really were, and the quicker he could recognize that, the better off he'd be. If he ever turned up again, of course.
Social
Contacts & Relations
Elnor - While the relationship started as exploitative, from Ravana's perspective, Elnor has proven his value time and again, and in truth, Sarischa recognizes much of his past in Elnor's. At this point, in a world of distrust, Elnor is perhaps the only person Sarischa believes, and can trust implicitly. Dare he say - a friend? For every rung of the social ladder that Sarischa climbs, he wants to ensure that Elnor is right there with him.
With the exception of Elnor, he views loyalty to others as a tool, and recognizes that it is often reciprocated, provided you share it with the right people. He makes certain to share it with the right people.
Honorary & Occupational Titles
Dream Seer of Resshe
Advisor to House Ildrafn
Mannerisms
Dunefalle is a coastal nation, with a big emphasis on nautical ventures, with notoriously stormy seas, so sailors developed a system of hand signals to converse with each other when the gales were so loud they couldn't be heard, known as Sailspeak.
Sailspeak at one point became so pervasive that it seeped in to the cultural landscape of Dunefalle itself. The spoken language of Dunefalle might sound somewhat blunt and abrasive, or bland and lifeless, if you're not familiar with what the hands are saying. The Dunefalli tend to rely on gestures to add emphasis or nuance, indicating anger, comedy, sarcasm, et cetera.
Because of this, the Dunefalli can be fairly expressive to those who share a culture, but unless they have extensive experience with other cultures, they might miss vocal cues. But this would also mean that they can pass intention to each other that others might miss, indicating caution, fear, preparation, or anger with a simple gesture or stance.
Social
Contacts & Relations
Elnor - While the relationship started as exploitative, from Ravana's perspective, Elnor has proven his value time and again, and in truth, Sarischa recognizes much of his past in Elnor's. At this point, in a world of distrust, Elnor is perhaps the only person Sarischa believes, and can trust implicitly. Dare he say - a friend? For every rung of the social ladder that Sarischa climbs, he wants to ensure that Elnor is right there with him.
With the exception of Elnor, he views loyalty to others as a tool, and recognizes that it is often reciprocated, provided you share it with the right people. He makes certain to share it with the right people.
Honorary & Occupational Titles
Dream Seer of Resshe
Advisor to House Ildrafn
Mannerisms
Dunefalle is a coastal nation, with a big emphasis on nautical ventures, with notoriously stormy seas, so sailors developed a system of hand signals to converse with each other when the gales were so loud they couldn't be heard, known as Sailspeak.
Sailspeak at one point became so pervasive that it seeped in to the cultural landscape of Dunefalle itself. The spoken language of Dunefalle might sound somewhat blunt and abrasive, or bland and lifeless, if you're not familiar with what the hands are saying. The Dunefalli tend to rely on gestures to add emphasis or nuance, indicating anger, comedy, sarcasm, et cetera.
Because of this, the Dunefalli can be fairly expressive to those who share a culture, but unless they have extensive experience with other cultures, they might miss vocal cues. But this would also mean that they can pass intention to each other that others might miss, indicating caution, fear, preparation, or anger with a simple gesture or stance.