Khorvakri
Real Name : Khorvakri et ZendrothNickname : Khori
Gender : Male
House : House Zendroth
Age : 115
Orientation : Straight
Description : Khorvakri is expected to look the part of a prince, and he's very well practiced. He has short sharply cut black hair and the distinct blue eyes representative of the Zendroth bloodline. He is usually luxuriously dressed in ceremonial military fatigues and brown leather boots.
In public, he keeps an unmoved poker face, uncaring and unfazed. The pundits call him an arrogant scion; the gossip rags portray him as a cold heartbreaker. He keeps an intimidating unapproachable demeanor that keeps the rumors alive.
Personality : Khorvakri is very uptight. He is actually quite an anxious person, having to constantly maintain the image the spymasters and analysts have cooked up for him to exact specifications. Luckily he's a perfectionist on details and keeps his surroundings, appearance, personal effects, and mannerisms very neat and sometimes seemingly robotic to keep pace with his duties.
That has made him somewhat of a buzzkill when it comes to real social events, and he is not smoothly sociable when he doesn't have a proper agenda in mind. The only time he relaxes his guard is when matching wits with a partner while sparring, playing chess or cards, training, sports or another competitive activity. Because of this, he makes easy friends with soldiers.
Preferences : The saying 'opposites attract' applies to Khori, who enjoys spending time around a more carefree personality, more childish than he can be, more spontaneous than is prudent, unfiltered in thought and speech, as long as they are similarly competitive and can keep up with him.
History : Khorvakri has spent a 100 years in preparation to be a Knight. House Zendroth valued perfection in all things, having such long lives and opportunity to hone their craft to perfection. Their House culture dictated that each Quori had their role to play, and the nobility's role was the heaviest burden. A Quori Knight of Zendroth was expected to be the embodiment of bravery, finesse, tenacity, and inspiration. They needed to be unmatched in combat, unflappable to the masses, unwavering in their leadership, and unable to be tricked or fooled. A Knight's role was to protect hearts and minds, to inspire the others and lead them to victory, and there was no coming back from the fatal sliver of doubt.
For the first 50 years of his life, Khorvakri could ignore some of those pressures, shielded from judging eyes by the strength of his father, Duke Halkhad. A student's role was to learn, a teacher's role to teach, and Khorvakri's tutors in sword and studies were incredibly good at their roles, inspiring him to his own. He took to his lessons with eagerness, especially when there was a challenge involved. He loved sparring, strategy, cards, and sports, anything where he faced off with an opponent and came out stronger or wiser. He took his losses in stride, laughing at his defeats and coming back all the harder. Back then, losing was a blessing, because he learned the most with each loss. It made him a prodigal student.
The latter half of a Quori Knight's training was squireship though, and apprenticed under Dame Sorashana, Grand Admiral of his father's Starfleets, Khorvakri quickly learned the price of losing. Sorashana was a strict teacher, tasked with the heavy duty of teaching the heir but also protecting House Zendroth's honor. Failures led to rumors, rumors fed perceived weakness, and weakness bred enemies. Worse still, in the midst of war, failure led to the deaths, of his honor guards, of the conscripted citizens who were not meant to face the brunt of war, and eventually of Khorvakri's master. Sorashana was his father's perfect vessel, she fulfilled her role perfectly, and that day, it meant by dying to save the foolish squire that would one day represent the hope and glory of her House.
Khorvakri came home from the campaigns a changed man. Before even undertaking his maturation ritual, he felt overly burdened by death, by loss, by failure. His siblings could sense the distance he had from them, not sharing in their enthusiasm to play and learn anymore. He could only train in politics and the sword, madly and fiercely, because he couldn't lose. He couldn't pay the price of failure anymore.