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Age: Born Summer 1st, 488 AV Sex: Male Race: Mixed Blood
Substituting Absurdities With Concepts of Human Reason
Chantilas is an eccentric soul with a flair for the dramatic, who tends to lead a life full of one hapless situation after another; which tend to make his daily events seem like an overly theatrical stage performance. In truth it would be easiest to call the young man a trickster with little to no moral standing, and a big predilection for treating people like pawns in a game of wits. His mood is almost always dependant on how well he’s conned someone, or just how proud he is of tricking, thieving, or lying to someone else. He possesses no limit to what suffering and cruelties he will inflict on someone over time. Much of how he treats people revolves around making them think one thing but actually doing another. Not one for brute strength, or strong arm tactics, the finesse he puts into twisting another human being's mind to the breaking point is his preferred arena, and his idea of fun.
Chantilas is a charismatic soul, despite his true nature, and always seems able to assure those around him that he’ll behave, even though they should know better. This last trait does tend to get him into more than several binds with the law or what criminal organization stands as local law. Having been able to wriggle, swindle, or talk his way out of every dead end in his life so far Chantilas can be a bit insufferable with his own skills at times.
Lying underneath the often cool and alluring smile adorning his face, this young man harbors a strong resentment for people. He hasn’t seen the good side of humanity, and it’s questionable if he thinks such a thing exists at all. Chantilas believes in power over people, deception, and cold hard currency. Anything else is just fantasy or misplaced hope as far as he’s concerned. If one does manage to look past all of the dark corners of his personality it’s easy to see that the young man is determined to become extremely skilled at what he loves to do, and also, surprisingly, highly religious; though even these traits can be brought into question if one considers them tools to survive.
Of What You See, There Is Smoke, and There Is Truth
Charming, well groomed, debonair, youthful. The physical description of Chantilas falls well within the boundaries of each of the previous words. He stands at a confidant 5' 10", though there is hardly any way he could make a claim to having sculpted muscles. Toned as the young man is he does not have the rippling abdomen or calloused hands as a hard worker his age might. Instead of the eye catching lines and curves of hours upon hours of work and training he wears smooth skin more comfortably than well tailored clothes. His face is free of the stubbly facial hair, as presumably, the rest of his person.
If one were to manage to liberate him from the confines of his clothes, not such a hard task for a pretty woman, a hand sized patch of skin is scarred over on his lower back; as well as several faint lines across the back of his legs. These slight flaws don't seem to bother him much since they aren't visible to the public. He does however take great pride in his disarming smile and pearly whites. Velvety brown eyes are equally deceptive of what games and schemes lay behind them. Most of the time his abundance of well maintained hair is stylishly swept back to make the most of his looks. To compliment his looks Chantilas goes out of his way to dress sharply, even if it's just to nip in to the local bazaar for a carrot. When fully composed, which is a good deal of the time, he is the quintessential gentalman's hooligan.
How the Before Came to Pass :
The life of the merchant class is good in Ravok, and life is even sweeter if the merchant family in question is “supported” by the Black Sun. However the Trevayne family is attempting to wheedle their way into the Temple’s Network, as well as affiliate themselves with any of the noble families; so life was only good. Perhaps the family his mother married into could be considered a middling to lower caste of rich bodies. They hosted the usual parties and events, ran a well established trading business, were related to several of the clergy through auntlings and cousinlets, and even purchased several smaller buildings in a real estate venture. It was indeed a good, well financed life for three young children to grow up in; the generous helping of drama notwithstanding.
Chantilas’s mother, Emlynn, was beautiful and held much sway over the hordes of young men that attempted courting her. Her beauty would have been outshone by cruel intellect had she taken it out of the scheming shadows it was hidden in. Emlynn always desired power and wealth above all else since Ravok was the kind of city where it paid to have deep pockets. When a man named Günter surprised her with kindness and elevated her onto a pedestal of devotion she became star struck for several months. Günter, the right hand man of a traveling trade goods supplier, provided adequately for two. Emlynn wanted two more. After a number of trying months with no children to show, Emlynn visited the temple of Rhysol for advice. It was here she met her future husband who became so smitten with Emlynn he arranged for the assassination of Günter. However, it’s always been wondered by those who know the family if the man acted alone, or if Emlynn had a more sinister roll in the death of Günter.
Emlynn and her new husband, Franz Joseph Trevayne, have never really felt true love for each other but merely an overpowering urge to possess one another. Emlynn still wasn’t able to have children even with the dashing husband she’d managed to find. The solution was simple, use a slave as a surrogate mother, though Franz spent an obscene amount of currency and business promises to purchase two exotic slaves for himself. He kept the Chaktawe and Inarta slave separated from the rest of the family for a long time and only allowed them to return as personal maids to Emlynn after he brought home a three year old girl, one year old boy, and a younger sister. It is unclear and may always remain that way as to which servant, if not just one, the children are truly related to. The siblings are very comfortable around each other and almost always completely open within their small conclave; often putting aside sibling rivalries in order to band together against the autocratic leaderships of their parents.
Chantilas did overhear a conversation between Emlynn and Franz one night that gave him enough doubt about his bloodlines that he’s certain Emlynn is not his biological mother. Regardless of how vein a person might be it’s difficult to accept the fact that the person you believed to be your mother is just a stand in. At twelve years old there is little in the way of places to seek comfort for a boy, but in Ravok there is always religion so he ran to the temple. Chantilas had never found Rhysol to be unagreeable in the least and actually favored the chaos he brought to, often times, a rather drab and boring existence. A meandering path was taken to the Temple where the boy paid his respects. But in that moment he realized that Rhysol had always been present, always there, and always provided for his city; he would devote his life to Rhysol. Chantilas headed for the written material first always having believed that researching before hand was the best way to understand what would be encountered in the future. He pulled from a shelf a general knowledge of the numerous gods. Rhysol had the largest section devoted to him but, further on, he stumbled across a god on which there were only a few tantalizingly sparse words. Curiosity peaked he scoured all the available records, but only found a related form of magic.
And this is how Chantilas spent the next year of his life, buried in all the texts he could get his hands on, trying to absorb everything about Djed; even if he couldn’t grasp the more complex concepts. The devilishly creative young lad crafted a plan to lure out a magician he hoped he’d be able to convince he was a worthy student. And so he took to the streets of Ravok performing smaller slight of hand tricks at first, but finding a liking to them, he evolved into more complex ones. His trap worked sooner than he’d have thought it would. A woman accosted him one day, accusing him of trying to steal her influence in the area, and telling him he wasn’t even a real magician. With a fast talking silver tongue and boyishly handsome smile he persuaded the woman to teach him the basics of illusion in exchange for both currency and services. Over the next two years Chantilas spent nearly all of his days, and about half of his nights, at the woman’s apartment diligently studying what knowledge she would give him.
He learned to lift small amounts of money from his parent’s room when it was unlocked, eventually trying to cut someone’s purse; though this resulted in a breakneck chase across Ravok which he had to pay for in loss of skin. His teacher was highly paranoid of being usurped by her student and she had to be constantly smooth talked back into teaching him of illusion. Time flew by in a blur of shimmering images, magical principles, and rules until there was a day when his teacher could no longer further his skills, or refused to give him more of what she knew. Infuriated at the sudden halt to learning what he loved Chantilas could only practice what he knew. But the woman, still allowing Chantilas to practice illusion with her, grew unwell over time and eventually died. She thought she had been brewing tea but when ever her student was around he worked his magic on a small portion of rat poison making it appear to be like the rest of the tea leaves.
With nothing left to learn in Ravok, and finally having discovered the name of Inou’s favored city Chantilas booked passage on his father’s trade ship against all wishes of his family. It took several weeks for the vessel to make it’s trip to Syliras, and then drop Chantilas off in Avaldas; but time didn’t matter at all. He was finally in a place where he could learn more. Learn about illusion and that mysterious god still holding his fascination.
Skills
Skills
Points
Total
Busking
5 (RB)
15
Seduction
23
23
Illusionism
22
22
Larceny
10
10
Lore
Knowledge of life as a spoiled brat Basic Knowledge of the Gods
Spoken Languages: Common- Fluent Pre Valterain- Basic
by Chantilas Trevayne on November 22nd, 2010, 7:19 am 
