Description

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE FOR CRIMES AGAINST THE PEOPLE OF ROTHDAN
REWARD: 100,000 GOLD FRENNATI OR 500,000 SILVER FRENNATI

Legend of Järome the Bottomless

Järome was born a prince to High King Rögnvaldr of Valdis at the dawn of the 9th age. His mother died due to complications during childbirth. As a young boy, he was catered to by numerous servants and serfs. He was raised in the royal palace and the surrounding lowlands of western Valdis. At the age of nine, he was given his first sword and shield by his father and trained by the captain of the guard in the basics of melee combat. He also learned how to sail small vessels across the Razgriz Straits to the neighboring kingdom of Rothdan and back.

Between the ages of ten and sixteen, Järome was educated by foreign tutors from Rothdan, Akeshlahab'la-kesh, and Nisyros. Rothdanian tutors instructed him on military history and tactics, as well as reading and writing. Akeshlahabi tutors taught him (with some difficulty) basic algebra, chemistry, and biology, as well as knowledge on his own adolescent bulltaur body and how to keep it healthy. Nisyrian mages gave him an insight of world history, social studies, and politics, plus some training for defense against the dark arts of magic (although Järome is not practiced in magic its self).

Järome lived a very sheltered life up until the age of nineteen, when he got his first real taste of politics during a small-scale conflict between Rothdan and Nagendra over a border dispute in west Rothdan / east Nagendra. Soldiers from Rothdan had occupied the country of Valdis for the last century as part of a long standing treaty between the two countries, which made Valdis a protectorate of Rothdan. As a result, it was not uncommon for the Rothdan government to recruit and draft Valdian citizens to help fight their wars. This was not a popular policy among the lower classes of Valdis, who for the past few generations had been protesting the treaty over the hundred years it had been active. In addition to the military influence Rothdan had over Valdis, it also had an economic influence. Rothdan was allowed to control taxes in the region, which on the one hand was used to build and maintain roads and infrastructure from city walls and harbors to public housing and mines for silver, iron, coal, and gold. Järome had been largely unaware of the people's grievances until an assassin attempted to slay his father during a banquet celebrating Järome's 19th birthday.

The would-be assassin stabbed Rögnvaldr in the back as he ate, but Rögnvaldr turned and grabbed the man by the throat and launched him across the room. He then proceeded to charge, smashing tables and chairs along the way, and plowed head-long into the assassin just as he was starting to stand up. The impact struck with such force that the assassin's entire torso was crushed as if a stone pillar had fallen upon his chest. The violent display was all witnessed by Järome who, at the time, was both terrified when he saw his father attacked, and then cheered him on as his father personally executed the assassin in front of the whole court. However, it wasn't until after the dinner was over that a new perspective was given to Järome from his favorite and final tutor.

She was a Nisyrian clairvoyant and wisewoman named Meredydd, whose official job was only tutoring Järome in recent world history, but back at the Mage's College in Nisyros she also taught a course in philosophy, which Järome had stumbled into great interest with. Not only did he learn the various teachings of the greatest minds Peran had ever known, he even learned of a few famous philosophers like Socrates and Plato from the Other-World called Earth. Earth was a realm which high ranking mages in Nisyros and Nagendra were able to access to exchange technologies and ideologies with the priests and mystics who lived there. Meredydd often received books from the Other-World which she used in her philosophy classes as well as for her own leisure. She often provoked arguments with Järome during history lessons purely for the sake of constructive thinking. She would frequently ask him what he would do if he were ruler of a country at a key point in history, or alternatively what he believed the people wanted in agreement or opposition to the ruler. She would debate with him, no matter what his opinions were, and never reveal her true thoughts on the matter. However, after the incident on Järome's birthday, Järome discovered her packing her bags. Though she was scheduled to depart for Nisyros at the end of the year anyway, she seemed visibly upset by something, which caused Järome to ask why.

"Why do you think the assassin attacked your father?" Meredydd asked. Järome at first was befuddled. He tried reasoning with motives like greed and power, but Meredydd defeated these theories by asking, "Is it worth throwing your life away for wealth you will never hold? For power you will never wield? Even if the assassin was successful, he would not have left the palace alive. He knew that. What cause would make a man throw his life away?" Järome was unable to answer the question until at last Meredydd revealed; "They do it for what they believe is the greater good." She then went on to explain that this was only the latest of dozens of assassination attempts against Rögnvaldr during Järome's lifetime. "He does not hear the word of the people. He hears only himself. He thinks the people do not know what is best for them. Maybe he is right, maybe he is wrong, but so long as he ignores them, the rift between him and his people will only grow, and it will tear your homeland apart." She urged Järome to learn from his father's mistakes and to do well not to repeat them.

Later that same year, Järome's grandmother Eleanor whom he fondly knew as 'Nana' fell deathly ill. Järome found himself thrust upon the throne in place of his father Rögnvaldr who had devoted most of his time toward caring for his dying mother. This left Järome to watch the kingdom in his absence, but as Järome quickly learned, his position was seemingly nothing but a meaningless title. All choices he made were under the pressure of Rothdanian viceroys in one direction or the other. Eventually, Järome began to quietly rebel against the viceroys, neglecting to sign new laws, or forgetting to allow permits for construction, or not submitting orders for troop movements to quell an occasional miner's riot in a distant worker's village. This only went on for a few days before Rögnvaldr returned in a fury toward his son. Järome had argued with his father in the past, as he was easily as strongheaded as Rögnvaldr. If an argument occurred between them, it would nearly always escalate into a yelling match and occasionally Rögnvaldr breaking things until Järome inevitably backed down. Over the years, each major fight seemed to push those limits further. In this instance, it escalated to the point where Rögnvaldr put his fist through a brick wall, not only smashing the bricks, but fracturing bones in his hand as well, and yet he showed no sign of pain. That was the end of the argument. Despite having never been struck by his father (beside once in childhood, when he once trampled a human boy his age over some dispute, and Rögnvaldr spanked him), in this moment, he was afraid his father would punch him if this went any further. Rögnvaldr wielded such raw power that he could knock out another bulltaur in a single blow to the head. Thus, Järome gave up, and endured the four hour lecture that his father gave him afterward.

Such displays over many years inevitably forced Järome to bend to the authority of his father. He feared him. At the same time, Järome also held a deep respect for his father who told inspiring stories of conquest and glory in battle, and honor upon fallen enemies, and help to the helpless. His stories were wild and spectacular, but all of them true. Järome also loved his father for the praise he'd give for accomplishments, and the every day kindness he'd deliver. They enjoyed banquets and traveling together to foreign lands. Rögnvaldr was no stranger to telling his son that he loved him, either. Rögnvaldr claimed that his grandfather was a bitter and violent man to the end of his days who never once until the day he died would so much as express his love in words, much less any other way. All in all, this potent brew of fear and admiration always made Järome obey his father at the end of the day, no matter how much it displeased Järome. He would even sob and beg forgiveness if a fight had been particularly intense, and Rögnvaldr would hug Järome and apologize in return for his unreasonable behavior. Yet after that day, something changed. Though Järome and Rögnvaldr reconciled as they had numerous times in the past, both with sincerity, it was the last fight of theirs that would end as such.

The next fight occurred about a year later. Rögnvaldr had been frequently away still tending to Elenore. Järome had come to visit his grandmother a few times where he bore witness to his father treating Elenore with the same stern and borderline yelling tone that Järome was all too familiar with. Elenore's state of mine was degrading. She did not understand when or if she had taken medicine which had to be administered every eight hours, even in the middle of the night if necessary. Sometimes she would insist she had forgotten to take her medicine. Other times she would argue she already had. Most times she was wrong. Even when she wasn't wrong, Rögnvaldr would fight with her much in the same way he would fight with Järome, but Elenore was not competent enough to escalate into yelling. Instead it would draw out in long boils of frustration and anger that would inevitably be taken out on Järome at the end of the day when they returned home and there was some chore that was incomplete, or some grievance Rögnvaldr would feel the need to address, no matter how recent or out of date. If something was not completely to Rögnvaldr's satisfaction, he would raise his voice. Not enough to yell, but enough to make Järome's stomach twist with anger at the disrespect he was being dealt. Finally one day Järome outright refused to complete one of his chores in protest of the way Rögnvaldr had instructed him to do it. Rögnvaldr reamed Järome immediately, stating that when he was young, and Elenore demanded he perform a task, he did it without question. He called his son disrespectful, defiant, lazy, irresponsible, among other similar things. This was a song Järome had heard a million times before, but today he did not submit as he normally would.

Järome happened to be cornered by Rögnvaldr had tripped on a steel shield that had fallen to the floor, either out of accident or neglect. He picked up the shield and mangled it like tin foil, then threw it back to the floor and yelled across the castle halls at his son. Järome ran to his father immediately to avoid further ridicule and correct the problem, not yet knowing what it was until he arrived. He discovered his shield, the same shield that he was given by his father as a child, now destroyed on the cold hard ground. Rögnvaldr was upset that his son was carelessly leaving his gear on the floor. It was turning into another meaningless instance of him yelling down at Järome who tried to plea with his father and explain the shield must have fallen. There was nothing he could do now but clean up the broken shield that now lay in a crumpled pile on the floor. Järome offered to do that too. Rögnvaldr continued his rage regardless, and Järome found himself backed into the dead end of the corridor with no exit.

Järome had been suffering violent dreams that he had kept to himself. Dreams of war, evil deeds, all at Järome's hand. He dreamed of himself burning his own home town and all its inhabitants–civilian and soldier alike. The dreams ended often times in a duel with his father, by blade or by hand. Yet while he could cave in the skulls of everyone else, his father always seemed immune to his blows. An indescribable hatred would consume him as he beat his father, unable to do even a scratch of harm, even while anyone else would have been brutalized to a bloody pulp. His father would never strike back, only grow more angry. Järome's hate would only grow as a result until he felt like a demon–and he relished in it. Yet when he woke in the morning, it was in despair. What was this creature inside of him? Where was it coming from? What was feeding it? Yes, his father was harsh, but surely not that harsh! Not enough to make Järome wish to commit atrocities!

And yet... somewhere in the faded echo of his father's scorn, Järome snapped. His hand balled into a fist, drew back, and delivered the first blow he had ever given to his father. Though hardly comparable to the strength of his father, it caused Rögnvaldr's words to be cut off. A split second later, Järome pulled his fist back a second time and punched his father again, then again, then again, until several guards witnessing the fight tackled Järome and restrained him.

"Let it go!!" the guards yelled at Järome, trying to calm him down. Järome always had a frightening ability to control his temper in ways his father could not. Same as his father, he could go into a violent frenzy, but unlike his father, he could cut that frenzy short and return to a state of eerie civility and powerful, verbose language. He used that now as he told his father the truth. "You have no idea how long I've waited to do that..." Järome sneered. "I've had dreams of killing you!!"

Rögnvaldr was bewildered, angered, and yet it could be seen in his eyes; he was heartbroken. "Killing me?" he asked with his voice still loud. "Oh that's rich... My own son wishes me harm? After all I've done for him?!" The fight went in its usual direction; complaining about the disrespect Järome dealt his father, while Rögnvaldr claimed to be such a saint to his own parents as a child. Rögnvaldr would rant about how he has never beaten Järome, even while Elenore used to "(...) grab me by the hair and bash my skull against the iron bars of the dungeon cells until I bled!" so Rögnvaldr cried out. Indeed, he was starting to cry. Between his screams, Järome could see Rögnvaldr's eyes watering up. Guilt overwhelmed Järome realizing that the monster in his dreams had at last set its self free–but perhaps guilt isn't the right word for it. Fear, perhaps, is a more proper term. He wasn't sorry he hit his father. He was sorry he allowed himself to strike in anger like that. He was sorry that he lost control. He was afraid he might lose control again, and might provoke a full and proper retaliation. Even now he was expecting his father to deliver a punch in return, but the worst he got was a thump on the side of the face. A meager slap at best, only to shake him as Rögnvaldr scolded him and the guards held Järome's arms down.

The fight would eventually end, and Järome would return to his bedroom in silence. He did not willingly speak to his father the next day, nor the day afterward, nor the day after that. He only spoke when spoken to, so as not to be viewed as disrespectful for ignoring his father and trigger another fight. The rest of the year went on, and things gradually returned to normal–at least in appearance. He began speaking to his father normally again, who did apologize eventually, but Järome's apology in return was a false one. Rögnvaldr said he loved Järome, and Järome consciously lied through his teeth saying "I love you too father."

Later that next year, Elenore would pass away. It would forever perplex Järome that the sweet old woman that was his beloved Nana, who had never yelled at him, who had never struck him, and yet who he had never once disobeyed out of pure respect beyond even his own father, Järome would never fully understand how she was the monster that Rögnvaldr described who beat his head against iron bars until he was bloody. Järome was never one for conversation with strangers, especially those who came to the wake and funeral. Järome didn't even speak to anyone during the wake. Some people were concerned. Others, even insulted. However, he did finally speak at the funeral, quoting a playwright from the Other-World by a popular writer named Shakespeare who was making himself famous at the time, and whose theatrics had spilled over into the realm of Peran's world-wide culture. He spoke a line from 'As You Like It', saying, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. We have our exits and our entrances, and one person in their time plays many parts. I know she played her's." He gestured at the grave. He had been stoic up to this point when he too started to cry. "It is my belief that when we fulfill that part, we are... relieved of this realm. I know that she played her part... and, wherever the afterlife may be, I know that the gods now watch fondly over her." He stepped aside after that, letting others continue to speak about their happy memories of Elenore. Rögnvaldr was one of the last to speak before they all went home and the service concluded. Rögnvaldr was also the last to leave as he shoveled the dirt over his mother's coffin.

Rögnvaldr's own health also began to decline as the next year dawned. Though not enough to kill him, it made him weaker than he'd ever felt in his life. A slow and painful consuming illness that put him in long bouts of agony that strain even the inconceivably high tolerance of pain and injury that Rögnvaldr was capable of sustaining. He had once took a direct hit from a ballista in battle, a shot that sent a six foot long oversized arrow traveling at thousands of feet per second clean through his taur body, and not only did he win the battle and lose most of his blood, he walked back to the doctors who told him he shouldn't even be conscious! Much less calm, aware, and seemingly in only moderate discomfort. Even with that much tolerance for pain, Rögnvaldr staggered around the palace barely able to walk when he hadn't taken his medicine properly. When he was not in visible pain, his temper was short, even shorter than it had been in the past. He would snap at the smallest of things that Järome did wrong, even when they turned out not to be Järome's fault at all, or even his rightful responsibility to begin with. The rift between Järome and his father merely grew for that next long year. Rögnvaldr would more and more frequently disappear off on long journeys and leave Järome in charge. Järome knew he was usually visiting some mistress. He had heard the rumors from the chattering lower classes that Rögnvaldr was dishonoring his deceased wife and sleeping with a different wench depending on who the rumor was heard from. In Rögnvaldr's absence, Järome was once again under the pressure of viceroys who demanded this and demanded that until one day Järome grabbed the viceroy by his throat and smashed him against the marble floors of the palace until smears of blood and brain matter were spattered across the floor. The ambassador of Rothdan was horrified by the outburst and demanded for Järome's arrest. Rögnvaldr would return in time to see his son taken out of shackles, but before Rögnvaldr could lecture him, Järome had fled the castle and taken a portion of the palace guard with him who had grown sick of Rögnvaldr's increasingly harsh rule. On that day, Järome betray and abandoned his father and his kingdom and began to round up like-minded rebels in the nearby countryside.

Against the recommendations of the replacement viseroy who demanded Rögnvaldr arrest his son and bring him to trial, Rögnvaldr gave Järome ample time to return to the castle on his own will. Järome was to be pardoned of his crimes and Rögnvaldr would simply never speak of the incident again... but Järome did not return. Instead, he used that window of opportunity his father had foolishly given him to continue recruiting rebels until a full scale revolt needed only a spark to set it off. In the end, it would be Järome who lit the fuse and fired the first cannon shots from a fleet of Valdian navy ships that defected to Järome's side. They fired upon an island city and naval ship yard south of central Valdis, just off the coast. Their forces made landfall and sacked the city. Järome earned his nickname "Järome the Bottomless" in this battle where he used his bulky taur form to devour anyone unfortunate enough to be in his way. Soldiers, civilians, men, women, even children all found themselves piling into the caustic fluids of his four stomachs to be digested. Anyone considered a loyalist to Rögnvaldr or Rothdan was mercilessly killed. Järome conquered the main city on the island and all the surrounding communities in only a single day. By the time the battle was over, he had to be carried by cart back to the city and and dragged by his men into the fort they captured there, because his underbelly was so gorged with victims that he could no longer touch the ground with his hooves.

The battle marked the beginning of a civil war that has since raged for years, father against son–or so politics would make it seem. In reality, Rögnvaldr avoids sending troops at Järome and instead stations his men in purely defensive positions. Rothan's own military would instead engage directly with Järome, but by the time they launch their first counter-attack, Järome had already fortified the island too well for a frontal assault, and no landing force has yet been strong enough to flank him by land from a less guarded side of the island. Either out of superior skill of Järome's forces, or Rothdan generals underestimating him as nothing more than a cowardly pirate lord, Järome and his island are allowed to persist to this day as the war rages on.

Out-of-Character