the royal family of angard - (from L to R);
king gallus leonid khilkov, queen lyra merandil khilkov, alessia julienne khilkov, erikur orrin khilkov, anastasya khilkov (cousin), and mattius reynauld khilkov
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@royalkhilkov
the royal family of angard - (from L to R);
king gallus leonid khilkov, queen lyra merandil khilkov, alessia julienne khilkov, erikur orrin khilkov, anastasya khilkov (cousin), and mattius reynauld khilkov
01. JUNG ESFP / 02. ENNEAGRAM TYPE 8x7 03. MORAL ALIGNMENT CHAOTIC NEUTRAL / 04. NATIONALITY ANGARDIAN / 05. KINSEY SCALE THREE / 06. INTERNAL DEFENSE SYSTEM NARCISSISTIC / 7. SIN ENVY / 8. VIRTUE DILIGENCE / 9. ANIMAL RAVEN / 10. TITLE THE WILDCARD
Basics
name: Princess Alessia Julienne Khilkov of Angard
meaning: Man's defender, youthful, lover of horses
nicknames: Lessy, Sia
age: 23 years old
family: King Gallus Leonid Khilkov (Father), Queen Lyra Merandil Khilkov (Mother, deceased), Prince Erikur Orrin Khilkov (younger brother, 21) Prince Mattius Reynauld Khilkov (younger brother, 16), Princess Ekaterina Khilkov (baby sister, deceased)
pets: A pet raven, Iona -- a gift from her mother on her thirteenth birthday. Iona flies off every day after her feeding, but always comes home before nightfall. In many ways, Iona is Alessia's only consistent companion, and she values the bird with her life, especially after her mother's passing.
heritage: Angardian
religion: Alessia is very fickle and does not hold any one true belief -- she is open to all religions and beliefs, but regularly attends religious services held in the palace to appease her father. She doesn't really know if there is such a thing as a divine entity, and she has never been one to contemplate the nature of their being or the meaning of life - she'd much rather just live without thought of consequence.
job: Royal princess of Angard
lives: Rorik, Angard
Physically
appearance: Although the eldest, Alessia is by far the smallest of her siblings in stature. The Angardians are a tall, strong people, but Alessia is of below average height, significantly shorter than most of her peers. She has a slender but curvy build, with raven hair- often worn in long ringlets that reach past her waist. Her eyes are never the same color two days in a row- they frequently change hue, ranging from deep greys to ice blues to striking greens. Alessia is never seen without makeup, lips always ruby red with porcelain skin, painted up to look like a doll as is custom in Angard.
scars: A scarred over cut on her left hip from being knocked over by her brothers while they rough-housed in the main sitting room of the palace.
tattoos: None
piercings: Alessia has three piercings in each ear.
dominant hand: Right
Sexually & Romantically
sexuality: Bisexual heteromantic
sex-life: Although Alessia has gotten close to losing her virginity, the moment never felt right and something always stopped her at the last minute. She was never frigid, was even thought to be quite promiscuous at one point in time, but she refuses to ever cross that line with someone unless she feels she can truly trust them.
turn ons: Impulsiveness, intelligence -- in terms of appearance, Alessia is drawn to strong, chiseled types, with soft eyes. She grows bored easily, and needs someone who can catch her attention and hold her interest.
turn offs: Boasting, rudeness, disrespect. Alessia was often disgusted by the way visiting royals treated their help- she can't stand to see someone belittled or abused in any way, especially if they are incapable of standing up for themselvses.
relationship history: Alessia has been betrothed several times, but has made sure to be as insufferable as possible so the men always withdrew from the arrangement-- she is vehemently against being married off as some bargaining chip, and as long as Angard is content with it's current standing and alliances, her father is happy to avoid her constant whining and oblige. He has since made it clear this will not last for long, especially now that her mother is dead and there is no one keeping him from going against his children's wishes.
love vs. lust: For the moment, Alessia would choose neither. She claims to be content, but in truth, she is painfully lonely -- she's sure she's already missed her chance at love, and she's not sure how she feels about that.
thoughts on love: Alessia grew up on stories of long winded romances with princes who came and swept the lonely princess off her feet, and had decided from a young age that was exactly what she didn't want. She wants an equal partnership, one where she doesn't feel obligated to act a certain way to appease someone else -- she just wants to feel open and comfortable enough to be herself. More than anything, she longs for someone to make an effort to understand her- whether that be in a platonic or romantic way.
Socially
mindset: “Nobody can hurt you without your permission -- don't you dare give it to them."
view of self: Alessia is particularly critical of herself, although no one would ever guess. She's determined to be the best at everything she does, whether it be embroidery or her academic studies, as boring and tedious as she finds them. She is never satifised with herself and has always been envious of her cousin, Anastasya, who was brave enough to go against the grain and become a knight against her mother's wishes. She fears that everyone cares for Asya more, including her own brothers, and has become increasingly bitter over it.
attitude toward others: Alessia can be quite cold and stand-offish, and very hard to please. She's blunt and honest to a fault, not afraid of consequence when speaking out, and is very opinionated. Because of this, she is not apt at making friends, although she does have many -- she knows they are purely her friends because of her status and not because they genuinely enjoy her company, and she's fine with that- anything to avoid being alone. She's extremely envious of Erikur's constant traveling - she wishes she were able to explore the world and all it has to offer - which also results in a tense relationship between the two siblings.
does she care at all?: Despite her at times icy demeanor, Alessia does care for her family and the people of Angard, and would never want anyone to suffer at her hand. She is not as quick to believe the citizens' "sob stories" as Erikur, although if she feels someone is being truthful, she would not hesitate to lend a hand.
fears: Becoming someone her mother would be ashamed of, Erikur dying in battle, ever having to take over the throne as Queen. Alessia is otherwise a pretty fearless and daring person, she's willing to try anything once.
bad habits: Speaking out of turn, letting her temper get the best of her, frequently ties her hair up messily with a ribbon to pull it out of her face (only for her father to tell her it is not lady-like.)
pet peeves: Being told she can't do something, having to mingle and listen to the boring guests drone on at royal events, feeling left out, how close Erikur and Anastasya are.
nervous ticks: Chewing on her nails- which her father promptly scolds her for, twirling her curls around her finger, biting her lip.
commonly used words: N/A
strengths: Alessia is intelligent and witty, always snappy and quick with her snide remarks. She's good at reading whether or not people are telling the truth or not, and although she rarely thinks before she speaks or takes action, she is fairly skilled at coming up with solutions to problems when they arise. In addition, she's not afraid to defend or stand up for herself, often defiant, almost to a foolish degree.
faults: Can be rather judgemental, quick to make assumptions, extremely stubborn -- once she's got something in her head it's hard to get Alessia to believe otherwise. Because she is so fickle, it's hard to know where she stands, and her family often questions her loyalty to the throne and Angard alike.
Misc
hobbies: Anything fast paced, she hates having to sit still in the quiet, she likes to be surrounded by people. Always looking for adventure, Alessia will take it anywhere she can get it, even on late night horse rides when the moon is high and everyone is asleep, and the guards have been explicitly instructed not to let her out -- she always gets her way.
drinks/smokes: Alessia has been known to drink often at events, but knows her limit -- she's aware everyone's eyes are on them as the royal family and she's always sure to never get sloppy.
Favorites
favorite foods: Pudding topped with fresh snowberries, soup made from lentils and venison broth.
favorite drinks: Water and berry juice.
favorite animal: Ravens -- Alessia has been infatuated with them since she was a child, how they're free to come and go as they place, so careless and content in their pursuits, able to go anywhere they please and explore the world as they see fit. She longs to have that freedom, has sought that kind of peace her entire life.
favorite color: Emerald green, the color of her mother's eyes.
favorite place(s): Alessia has not found a favorite place yet. She believes Angard is not where she belongs, and she will find her home somewhere else, if only she were able to leave.
strange and beautiful // {erik&linnea}
Morning greeted Linnea earlier than usual. Though she need not awake for hours she found herself tossing and turning in anxiety, heart pounding nerves that she didn’t know how to contain with poise. A betrothal in the loosest sense was one thing, the fact that there was a man very far away who wanted her to be his bride. All this meant in the beginning was that she couldn’t flirt and tease the boys in their court any longer, that she belonged to someone now. In the middle it meant her mother doting on her, on her sisters bestowing their favorite accessories to her for the fancy parties she would attend, it meant building a proper wardrobe to take with her to Rorik. This, of course, had been the most fun. Now, staring at her multitude of fine leather trunks that had been lined with pale blue silk, Linnea felt sick. Now at the end, a longing desperation for familiarity and safety swallowed her whole. All the clothing and finery in the world would not have been enough to make leaving Siceilienne behind easy, let alone possible. Every single bone in her body cried out to remain, this of course was where she belonged, each facet of her world perfectly fashioned for her. A wife, a mother, that was what she was about to become when in reality Linnea felt like nothing more than a child parading around in her mother’s jewels. This was one fate she was not ready to meet, not just yet. The day that she wanted to spend in the aviary, by the ponds, on the shoreline, was instead spent sitting in a stiff vanity chair as her mother pinned and braided her silvery hair. Anastasie sat at her feet, painstakingly painting traditional swirls and designs onto her hands in glittering gold ink. Today was a celebration, whether or not Linnea thought so, and she would be wearing her finest. “You look beautiful…” The queen cooed, voice soft and melodic as always. Linnea managed a small smile, not feeling beautiful, just scared. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the scent of her mother’s perfume one more time. She could never put her finger on quite what went into it, but she new it smelled warm. Something floral, something light too, like the champagne they drank at parties. Painfully, Linnea realized this was the last time she would ever smell it. Like all things, childhood had a time and a season, she knew hers was coming to a close. That didn’t make it any easier. That morning she saw the palace through new eyes, as someone who would never see anything more beautiful ever again. Details that had once been lost to her, ornate crowning on the ceiling, tapestries and paintings, this was her last chance to absorb it all and take it with her. Finally they cloaked her in a fine gown made of gossamer silks, the sort that was laden down with pounds of gilt gold detailing yet still flowed weightlessly. Taking a slow deep breath, Linnea took in the sight of herself in the mirror. Normally looking so ethereal, like one of the many porcelain dolls sitting on her shelves, would have lit her up with delight. Instead all her forced smile met her with was dread. They would be arriving soon, the king and his men. This was it.
Just as tradition called for she stepped into place upon the palace steps to welcome guests with her family and the court. Suddenly Linnea found herself feeling very small and painfully visible. Normally when everyone sought a look at her to see her dressed in her most lovely she relished the moment, tipped her chin up even higher to let them know how pleased she was with herself. Now, she simply wanted to sink into the ground beneath her feet. With a giggle, Anastasie leaned over. “You look beautiful- just remember that Linny.” She murmured, her voice nothing but an excited whisper. Daring her sister a smile, Linnea let a laugh slip through her poised demeanor. “As do you, Ana.”
Curious subjects lined the streets, all craning their necks and fighting for a look at the foreigners. Some were welcoming, some waved, others stared in awe. Some even threw flowers at their feet. The buildings were pale, cream and white under the suns bright rays, only broken up by ornate blue tiling and terracotta colored brick. No matter where one looked the mountains and the sea remained, a constant view throughout the city and integral part of their lives. It was as though The Cradle of Light had sprung up naturally without human interference, without cutting away at the foliage, trees, flowers, shrubbery, it was all there. They were simply living among it.
Though she wanted nothing but to turn and run, Linnea stood straight like the lady she was raised to be. This was her moment and she could seize it or let it destroy her. Despite her fear she didn’t play with her hair or bite her bottom lip for fear of ruining her well crafted makeup. Dread pounded erratically in her chest but a thrill soared through her as the gates began to lower. She couldn’t breathe, with no idea if it was due to horror or delight. Eyes widening, a gasp hitched in her chest, ruining her perfect posture. Heavens, she didn’t know what she had expected but the sight that greeted her eyes was nothing like it. The Angardians were unlike anything she had ever seen. Tall, broad, weather worn. Not even Siceilienne’s medal appointed military men looked half as imposing as they did. There was something regal about it, overwhelming. Even their horses were different, the largest she had ever seen with long untamed manes and hooves twice the size of Stella Lou’s or more. Straightening her stance, so as not to look small and pathetic, Linnea put on her best smile to welcome them. That was when her eyes fell upon the King, again, nothing she was expecting and in the most wonderful way. Much younger than his painting, warmer, approachable. Her shock must have been painfully apparent because a moment later Adelei was hissing at her not to stare. Linnea hardly found herself with the capacity to pay attention to the ceremony of it all. The trumpets and the sweeping gestures. She couldn’t draw her gaze away. It was the oddest sensation, looking at a man and knowing she was to be his bride without a single word spoken between them. In shame she found herself relieved to find him handsome. How very vain but utterly true. Anastasie must have thought so as well, as she heard a stifled bout of giggles escape from beside her. Sending her sister a chiding look, she stepped forward to welcome them. Almost always her father did this, she was a background piece, fine china and pretty wallpaper, not the voice. Today was hers, her moment to make an impression, one she had agonized over for days. Somehow she took the steps she needed, not a single tremble to her limbs or her voice. Just the graceful confidence she was afforded by right of birth. Casting an approving smile over the men of Angard, Linnea curtsied, her wrists light as she lifted the hem of her dress off the ground and swept one ankle behind the other. With well practiced phrasing Linnea spoke as she straightened up, chin held high.. “It is a pleasure to welcome you to the Cradle of Light.” Though she had practiced the language of Angard for days now, pouring over lesson after lesson her accent remained. Each word was practically sighed out, light and breathy, almost like song. “And, I can only hope it is a pleasure for you to be here.” She added, a a playful smile breaking through for a brief flash.
Slowly but all at once, Erikur's men dismounted their horses and stood to bow before the royals - a family with silvery white hair and eyes of a striking blue, authority and kindness practically radiated off of them. He scanned the lot of them, studying them with careful consideration, trying to pick out which was to be his future step-mother. The King and Queen were easy to spot, of course. They seemed happy together, all of them, the perfect picture of an ideal family, certainly so unlike his own. His eyes landed on a girl dressed in a beautiful dress made of the most ornate fabric, adorned in jewels, with a smile so bright it rivaled the sun. She was radiant in every way, completely captivating, and Erik found it impossible to pry his eyes away from her. It was rude to stare, this much he knew, but he was so awestruck that he momentarily forgot his well-groomed manners.
The girl began to descend, walking with poise and grace unlike any he had ever seen, and he had to remind himself to breathe. Was this her? It had to be. The sun shone warm on his pale skin, not a snowflake in sight, and Erikur never wanted to forget the feeling- the way the rays stung his eyes but filled him, warmed him from the inside out, a sensation he had never experienced from the overcast skies of Angard. He'd always loved the feeling he got when entering a new land, discovering unknown territory for the first time ever -- this was no different, and yet, somehow it was far more satisfying. A smile genuine and unbridled turned up at his lips as she stood before him, even more striking up close. Her eyes were as blue as their clear skies, her voice was as beautiful as the songs of their birds. Erikur was surprised to hear her address him in his native tongue, and even more surprised to find she spoke it just as well as he. Bowing his head, he grasped the woman's hand and pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles, skin soft as silk against his lips. "The pleasure is all mine, my lady." As he stood, Erik reluctantly let go of her hand, but his smile remained. "Your accent is most impressive. You will make a fine Angardian." He mused, clasping his hands together behind his back as he took in the sight of her completely. Erikur had not seen the portraits of her that had been sent to his father for consideration when the betrothal was still being arranged, but even still, he was sure it did nothing to capture how beautiful she was in person. Briefly, he considered that he should not think such things about his father's future wife, but there were no ill intentions hidden in his musings. "We thank you kindly for your hospitality, Your Grace. It has been a long journey, although certainly worthwhile, I would say."
Suddenly his mind caught up with him and he shook his head, a silly smile crossing his face. "Forgive me, my lady -- it seems I have lost my manners on the journey. I am Erikur Khilkov, and I am entirely pleased to meet your acquaintance." Catching his breath for what felt like the first time since she'd approached, Erik smiled brightly. "You look breathtaking, if you do not mind my saying.." Finally pulling his gaze away from hers, Erikur once again studied the faces of her family, standing in a line behind her. "May I inquire about your family? I would love to meet them all.." They'd barely been in the kingdom for a few moments but he wanted to see more, wanted to soak up every area of it all that he possibly could, before it was back to the cold so thick it reached your bones.
strange and beautiful // {erik&linnea}
Erikur's mind had a tendency to wander on long journeys, eyes slipping shut as exhaustion overtook him and his men trailed tirelessly behind. He never thought of pleasant things, never found comfort in the ratways of his mind, and he couldn't afford to slip away -- today was important. Today they arrived in Siceilienne, the kingdom of his father's wife to be. It had taken them a fortnight - the days had begun to blend together and he ached to be back in his warm bed with a belly full of mead. Only one full moon had passed since Erik's mother, Queen Lyra, had died while giving birth. One full moon.. One month, and the king had already found himself a new, younger wife. They barely had time to mourn their old mother before a new one would be thrust in their face. He hadn't even seen his father shed a single tear. Meanwhile, Alessia refused to leave her room, and Mattius spent all his time slamming doors and sulking about the palace, permanent scowl on his face. They wouldn't take kindly to this new woman. Erikur didn't know how he felt about it. He didn't know anything more -- nothing but the swing of his sword and the feel of his horse galloping through the snowy tundra, going from battle to battle. Sighing frustratedly, Erik ran a hand through his hair and opened his eyes as they reached the capital of Siceilienne -- the Cradle of Light. Jaw slack, he took in the sight with baited breath. The name was certainly fitting. Everything was bright, a mix of orange and gold hues, warm and sunny. The air was light, not heavy in his lungs like back home, and somewhere in the distance a chorus of birds echoed through the sky. As they continued on, approaching the front gates of the palace, Erikur stopped Darya and his men scrambled to come to a halt with him, waiting intently for further orders. If he was tired before, he was entirely awake now, a sweet scent hitting him with full force. Everything about this land was different in the most comforting, welcoming way possible. For the first time on his travels, he did not miss Rorik. A whistle of approval came from somewhere behind him. "Indeed," He agreed under his breath, dropping Darya's reigns and swinging his leg over the horse to land on solid ground for the first time all day. Turning to address his men, Erikur projected his voice and spoke with authority as he stood tall. "The citizens of Siceilienne have done us a great kindness by welcoming us to their home with hospitality. You'd do well to remember that we are merely guests -- I expect you all to express your gratitude. Let us not take advantage of their generosity." The expanse of men before him all nodded, a chorus of "Yes, sire" rang out through the courtyard. "Very well. Enjoy yourselves.. just not too much." He joked, petting Darya as he turned now to face the gates and await their welcome with squared shoulders.
01. JUNG ENFJ / 02. ENNEAGRAM TYPE 1x2 03. MORAL ALIGNMENT LAWFUL NEUTRAL / 04. NATIONALITY ANGARDIAN / 05. KINSEY SCALE ZERO / 06. INTERNAL DEFENSE SYSTEM RIGID / 7. SIN LUST / 8. VIRTUE DILIGENCE / 9. ANIMAL SNOW LEOPARD / 10. TITLE MAGNETIC HERO
Basics
name: Royal Prince Erikur Orrin Khilkov of Rorik
meaning: One who has great strength
nicknames: Erik
age: 21 years old
family: King Gallus Leonid Khilkov (Father), Queen Lyra Merandil Khilkov (Mother, deceased), Princess Alessia Julienne Khilkov (elder sister, 23), Prince Mattius Reynauld Khilkov (younger brother, 16), Princess Ekaterina Khilkov (baby sister, deceased)
pets: His black Shire horse, Darya, who he frequently rides into battle.
heritage: Angardian
religion: Erikur believes in a single God as one entity- while he is not completely devout, he does like to attend religious services when he is home from his frequent excursions, and finds solace and comfort in his faith. He likes to believe that the horrible things he is often forced to do all serve a purpose, greater than that of his father's personal conquests. Erikur is frequently found with his eyes closed and head bowed, praying and asking for guidance, especially before battle.
job: Leader of the Rorik Royal Army, Prince of Angard
lives: Rorik, Angard
Physically
appearance: Strong, burly build. Erikur is tall in stature and carries himself with poise, hands often clasped together behind his back, head held high. He is toned and refined, muscular from battle, with jet black curls and striking green eyes, the most like his mother in appearance out of all his siblings.
scars: A long, deep but fleshed over gash running diagonally along his abdomen- from being sliced with a sword in battle. Various other wounds (I'll come back to this)
tattoos: None.
piercings: None.
dominant hand: Left.
Sexually & Romantically
sexuality: Heterosexual heteromantic
sex-life: Spending a majority of his time traveling with his soldiers, whether it be to battle or to the villages to check up on the citizens, Erikur does not have many an opportunity for sexual experiences. He has spent the night with only two women in his life- one being an old friend from childhood that he has since grown apart from, and the other being his previously betrothed, Jinessa (his father broke off the betrothal due to an assumed treachery from her family and they were exiled from the kingdom in an act of mercy, thanks to Erikur's mother)
turn ons: Erikur is quite partial to light eyes and a sense of humor -- something very hard to come by in Rorik. A kind disposition and an outgoing personality immediately captivate him.
turn offs: The women Erikur encounters are often cold and snooty, always with hands outstretched begging for more and more, nothing is ever enough. He finds judgemental, self-righteous types entirely unattractive.
relationship history: Erikur has been betrothed once and while it ended badly, he was wholly relieved. He abhors the idea of commiting himself to someone that he doesn't love wholeheartedly, which is why he has since made a deal with his father that as long as he is obedient and goes wherever the King dictates, he can avoid betrothal, at least long enough to find someone he can really love. He thought he was in love once, with a childhood friend, but his father found out and forbade him from ever seeing the young girl again. He was crushed, but has long since moved on.
love vs. lust: In many ways, he would prefer love, especially if he is to be committed to one person for life; but lust is often what plagues him. Lust for companionship, for a kindred soul.
thoughts on love: Erikur has recently realized he doesn't quite know what he believes love to be -- his parents were never much of an example. Moreover, he believes to love someone is to choose them; not have someone thrust at you and be expected to share your life, your innermost being, with them.
Socially
mindset: “Focus on the task at hand and never let your fear show, your men are depending on you."
view of self: Erikur is rather unsure of what he thinks about himself. He's ashamed of the things he's done, the men he has cut down in battle, the lands he has conquered under his father's command. He tries not to compromise his principles and never lose his morals, but in the life he leads, it's almost impossible not to go against what he believes in an effort to be obedient and follow orders. Erik avoids looking in mirrors at all costs, for fear he will not recognize who he sees, and suffers from frequent flashbacks and nightmares of battle -- he has a tendency to trail off in the middle of conversation, drawn back to the battlefield, struck by the sounds of clashing metal and the groans of wounded men. It's something that has continued to plague him for years.
attitude toward others: Erikur is a very compassionate, empathetic person. He often makes trips to the surrounding villages of Rorik in his leisure time, listening to the complaints and requests of the citizens, visiting with the orphanages and handing out charity to people in need. He is often a direct line of communication between the people of Angard and his father. Despite all of this, Erikur has a very playful disposition, especially when he is home and away from battle. He's very easy to befriend and is particularly outgoing and charming.
does he care at all?: Erikur feels heavily responsible for the needs of his men and the citizens of Angard alike- he takes it all into his hands and it weighs heavy on him, but he cares very much for his people and would do anything to ensure their needs are met. Because of this, people are very drawn to him and find him trustworthy and just -- he is very careful to maintain a good stance with the people in his kingdom and in his personal life.
fears: Erik is afraid that one day the memories of the horrible things he has been forced to do while finally overtake him, or he will succumb to the pressure from his father and become the ruthless, merciless man the king so desperately desires him to be. He's afraid of never being loved or loving back, that he is incapable of feeling such emotion, that he has lost that part of himself over the years.
bad habits: Forgets to tie up his horse when camping out for the night, eating before praying, always misplaces one boot and stumbles around looking for it for hours.
pet peeves: When Darya wanders off from a campsight after he forgets to secure her to a tree and he has to go out searching for her, when his men are late for trainings or get too drunk on nights off, Alessia's pet raven that crows far too loudly in the early hours of the morning.
nervous ticks: Runs hand through curls, bites the inside of his cheek, taps his boot impatiently.
commonly used words: My lady, pardon me
strengths: Skilled in battle, reads body language well, can command an entire army and keep them on task, knows how to motivate people and encourage others. Erik is very good at sympathizing with others and gaining their trust and favor, almost effortlessly.
faults: Tends to be others' needs before his own, which often leads to him not taking very good care of himself, forgetting to eat meals, etc. He's always so deep in his own head that his attention tends to drift and he has a hard time staying on task when he is not in battle. Erikur has a hard time opening up to people or showing emotion - his father has taught him that showing vulnerability makes you weak, and he cannot afford that.
Misc
hobbies: Drinking with his men after a particularly grueling battle, retreating to the castle library to read in the solitude and quiet, sketching little drawings here and there when he is having trouble focusing, riding Darya around the stables and getting fresh air.
skills: Erikur is good at keeping people on task, giving motivational, encouraging speeches, and he has fairly good intuition- he knows right off the bat whether or not to trust someone or whether they are cut out to be part of his army. He can pick apart a person's faults and strengths in seemingly one glance.
drinks/smokes: Erik occasionally enjoys a drink or two in social settings or celebrations and royal events -- otherwise, he likes to stay alert and make sure he is composed.
Favorites
favorite foods: Potato stew, rich with zesty broth and tender meat, hot and comforting on the cold snowy nights.
favorite drinks: Ale, water, and fruit juice- freshly squeezed from harvested snowberries.
favorite animal: Deer - they are gentle and harmless, beautiful and stoic. He dreads having to hunt them for their meat and pelt.
favorite scents: The smell of fresh snowberries boiling into syrup in the castle kitchens for special dessert pies, the musky but feminine floral scent of his mother's perfume, made from the oil of her favorite flowers.
favorite color: Gold -- Rorik is often cold and dreary, but the elegant golds strewn about the castle bring life to the palace.
favorite place(s): The palace stables - he loves visiting all the horses and giving them their pellets, brushing their fur and spending time with them. Erik spends most of his leisure time in the castle library, reading and gaining knowledge or just thinking, basking in the quiet. He isn't often awarded alone time, and he likes to take full advantage of it when he can.