Nathan Wolfgang
Posted: Sun Oct 18, 2020 8:01 am
Nathan - Wolfgang
Details
Full Name: Nathan Wolfgang
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 30
Birthdate: 19th of Final Soltice, Season of Frost, 91th Year of the Age of Steel
Birthplace: City of Verden, Lorien
Main Profession: General Merchant; 1000 df/day in Frost (Approved by Sovereign)
Housing: House Wolfgang Family's Estate
Partners: N/A
Titles: Lord
Factions: House Wolfgang
Fluencies: Common, Gentevarese
Conversationals: None
Ineptitudes: None
Appearance
Nathan stands at 5’9’’ and has a well-formed, lean muscular physique due to his fondness for brawling. Weighing in around 185 lbs. He has brown eyes and brown hair. He dresses according to the occasion.
Personality
Nathan could be described as the person who pulled the strings from the shadows, manipulating people, and events. He prefers tactical approaches more than brute force approach because for him tactical and subterfuge approach is more stimulating for the mind thus, he loathes fighting an open war unless there is no other option. A calculated risk-taker. Raised in a House forged of blood and steel, he learns from a very young age to be flexible, opportunistic, and resourceful. He believes that the end justifies the means. He values family and will do what is best for the family.
History
My name is Nathan Wolfgang, coming from a noble house you could say that I was born with a silver spoon. That is what a lot of people think of us, nobles, well most of it is true anyway. We were born with lands under our name, receiving the best treatment because of our upbringing. But the truth is those who are born into nobility are just great actors. Putting on a show. The truth is we face the problems you have it’s just on a different level. Sure if you fight with your sibling you would maybe have a fistfight or heated argument with one another and in a day or two you’ll make up with each other. That’s a different case with us. I have seen brothers go to war at the expense of hundreds of lives because of jealousy and petty squabbles. Sons killing their father because they are not given the title and land that is their “birthright”. We have restless nights thinking about what our adversary is plotting against us, true friendship is a rarity, it’s truly a cutthroat world.
Well, you would say that it’s a cutthroat world because of politics and stuff. That’s some of the nicer things. At least at the end of the day, you would walk out the room with your head still intact to your body. Well, it’s quite different for noble houses with a field of interest like House Wolfgang. A house forged in steel and blood. That explains quite a lot. Our house motto “Conquered by None” shows just how confident are my ancestors in their skills. But in truth what almost brings us to our demise is not our enemy. It’s ourselves. I could bore you with the history of backstabbing and civil war within the House, but that’s all in the past. It’s all thanks to my father’s generation. They took the necessary step to ensure the stability of the house. But that was decades ago.
I was 28 at the time I took on the title of the Lord of House Wolfgang. I’d rather spend my days at some gambling table at my favorite tavern than take that dreaded position. It should have been his turn to seat on that “throne” of despair and headache. He got the qualities of a leader, he was charismatic, a member of the Argent knighthood, benevolent, chivalrous, a man of the people, a spitting image of our father. He got a great future ahead of him, take on father’s position when he passed, and marry that beautiful and faithful girl of his and bring prosperity to our House. To see him end up like some alley dog, dead in a ditch in Verden. It was that one fateful morning when we received the news. I know that look on my father’s face. It’s written all over his face, why him? It should have been me. That night we were both out, but only one of us came home. My brother with his idealistic way of wanting to better the city of Verden, to rid it of those scums, and me engaging in my hedonistic ways with the types of people he called the scums of the city. Look where it got him, should have kept his pride and ego in check and just go with the majority. We are not some great House like the Galbrecht, we are just a small House, with little power and influence. All that talk about bringing change, I guess he inherited that from mom. It’s just we are but a tiny drop of water in the ocean to even make an impact.
That morning was the last I talked with dad. He went up to his study and I went to my favorite establishment to drown my grief. He was still my brother, and to see him end up just the same as mom was devastating. In my state of almost drinking myself to oblivion, I received the news. Deep down I knew that this was bound to happen at some point. The constant stress of leading the House and with the death of his wife and his favorite son, his poor old heart gave out.
I sat there at the stairs leading up to the front door of our estate. Just me, five bottles of my favorite drinks, and the heavy downpour that night. That’s why I called it the “throne” of despair and headache. The irony for the great generation of my dad that brought change to House Wolfgang to end like this, in his own words “good-for-nothing-son” the next in line, not his favorite son to lead this generation.
I still remember that day, as we barged down the door to that establishment. The only time I’ve seen with my own eyes the Knights did their job in that city riddled with scums. That afternoon behind the main house at the family's estate, along with the downpour outside, I sat looking at the newly added tomb on the wall of the mausoleum.
