Blaike Fremont
Ville de Thorne - Terrains de tournoi
La fin du printemps ; une transition vers les chaudes journées d'été, remplie de bourgeons de rosée de sueur grimpant sur les visages des aristocrates et des piétons...
... bleeeeh, ça allait être horrible! Il a déjà dû faire face à une bombe il y a quelques jours et il préférerait avoir la chaleur qui vient directement de là!
... en fait, grattez ça, pas de chaleur, pas de règles.
Un jeune homme drapé en rouge traînait dans les terrains du tournoi où il observait les deux combattants dans l'une des rares arènes bien attachées. Les mages ont fait quelques pas en avant, évitant de trébucher sur trois enfants alors qu'il se tenait sur un pied comme s'il s'agissait d'une sorte de ninja. Une fois que le trio d'enfants sprinté hors de son chemin, il a forcé un sourire alors qu'il a prononcé une «'scuse moi," à l'un des spectateurs qu'il s'est penché pour obtenir une meilleure vue du combat.
Penchant sur le poteau, il regarda que les deux armuriers s'affrontaient alors qu'il souriait, s'arrêtant à regarder comment ils se lançaient et se lançaient l'un sur l'autre. Il a étudié le duo en se positionnant continuellement de manière différente, rien de différent que des pièces sur un tableau de stratégie. Tandis que celui qui manie la lance avait le point de vue dans les armes, le jeune homme a remarqué l'habileté dans la façon dont il a utilisé la lame, étant constamment celui à mettre la pression et fermer la distance... heh.
Ça n'avait pas d'importance, car il y avait une chose qui les séparait de la vôtre.
Ce sont des chevaliers, c'est un héros.
"Hé, rien que des amateurs, beaucoup d'entre eux. C'est facile de choisir pour un guerrier de lumière!" Peu importe qui a gagné ce duel, il n'y avait aucun moyen qu'ils l'écrasent! Après tout, les héros gagnent toujours, surtout les héros qui sont les héros choisis du cristal bien sûr!
Les jeunes mages fermèrent les yeux alors qu'il jouait avec son imagination, avec une certaine difficulté à s'isoler à travers la conversation des gens du commun et des festivaliers... mais finalement, il l'a fait! Après tout, rien n'était impossible, surtout si c'était vraiment le vôtre.
Comme par magie, le monde entier s'est évanoui autour de lui, son épée de signature tiré, pointé directement sur l'adversaire non-descript devant lui. Cela dit, il a tourné la tête vers une charmante jeune fille qui avait l'air suspectement semblable à la princesse de Thorne. L'homme lui a fait un clin d'oeil et soudain elle a commencé...
... grincheux, souffle cette chaleur pour enlever sa rêverie réaliste! Ses yeux s'ouvrent instantanément en tandem avec le son du claquage du métal. Le mage rouge gémit comme quelques gouttelettes de sueur se formèrent autour de ses temples. Mec, il tuerait pour chasser ce temps humide ou pour jeter Aero tout de suite!
Brushing the liquid away with one fall swoop of his ganted hand, essuyant le côté de son pantalon alors qu'il retournait observer le combat, regardant l'arme des utilisateurs de lance se faire virer tandis que l'homme avec l'épée le précipitait vers le bas...
Après cette bataille... eh bien, il n'y avait pas de temps comme le présent et honnêtement parlant, il n'était pas sûr de la durée de ce combat. En m'excusant ou en me pardonnant toutes les quelques secondes, Blaike a décidé que le meilleur moyen était de se diriger vers la zone où les prétendants devaient entrer dans l'arène... bien sûr, ce qui signifie qu'il y aurait une grande tente remplie de combattants blessés... et peut-être un magi blanc chaud là-dedans... peut-être aussi une hottie amazonienne, hein...

Affrontant les marées de gens qui flottaient constamment, il trouva enfin des rivages beaucoup plus calmes en identifiant des gardes stationnés près d'une tente familière. Bien sûr, étant le héros et le cristal choisi, ils étaient certains de reconnaître le salut...
"Arrêtez le thor droit, les participants et les mages blancs ne doivent être autorisés qu'au-delà de leur point de départ.
Wha-, mais, comment ne pouvaient-ils pas savoir qu'un homme aussi magnifique comme lui participait à ce tournoi (qu'il gagnerait évidemment à la fin)? Eh bien, devinez que c'était à lui d'informer les ignorants! Tirant sur son bras, le héros l'a immédiatement ramené directement sur sa poitrine, paume posant à plat sur le vêtement rouge. Le plus jeune des deux semblait sauter un peu tandis que l'autre, eh bien... n'a rien fait d'autre que de regarder.
"Mes affaires? Un magnifique spécimen comme moi participe à ce choc du pouvoir et de la grâce, celui qui s'élèvera au sommet contre la compétition intempestive, a-"
"J'aimerais vraiment que vous ne erriez pas, ce qui rend difficile de garder la trace de qui et quoi... "Le nom de quelqu'un?"
Quel travail impoli! L'interrompant au milieu de la sentence, pah! Comme c'est maladroit! Une fois le garde terminé, il tourna la tête juste un peu à droite, les lèvres se fronçant vers le bas pendant qu'il bouffait sa poitrine, faisant remarquer avec un léger hmph. "Je suis connu loin et large, des contreforts roulants de Thorne aux forêts humides de Dahlgren; petit-fils à un ancien héros de lumière, charmeur à travers ces deux royaumes," son autre bras s'étendait vers l'extérieur sous un angle comme si arrachant une pomme d'une branche basse.
"Je suis le plus récent choisi par le cristal, Blaike Fremont," a-t-il bougé, roulant son poignet de bras protubérés d'une manière circulaire avant de craquer. Le grognement des deux était étonnamment inimprimé, se grattant derrière alors qu'il lâchait un grognement. Le plus petit semblait regarder le magi tout en s'emparant de sa lame.
Mon Dieu, était-il aussi imposant à ce petit peuple? C'était probablement lié à son aura riche et pourtant si puissante! De retour à une position beaucoup plus confortable, Blaike a baissé les deux bras, appuyant un contre sa hanche alors qu'il a incliné la tête un peu sur le côté.
"Oy, Seif", comme le scribe t'aperçoit s'il est sur la liste des combattants", le graffeur s'est exprimé dans sa voix de baryton, alertant son partenaire. Tandis que le jeune homme se préparait à dire quelque chose, sa lèvre trembla alors qu'il regardait entre les deux hommes avant de frémir et de laisser sa main sortir de la lame.
"Monsieur, b'safe, je reviendrai dans un jeu!" Cela dit, le chevalier en herbe s'est enfui, laissant seul le chevalier blindé et le mages flamboyant...
Eh bien, devinez qu'il voulait être le seul à se reposer à la lumière des cristaux choisis! Ha, il pouvait comprendre le sort des hommes plus âgés et pourquoi il renvoyait les jeunes gens! Essayer de garder ce moment tout seul... devine qu'il était plus raffiné qu'il...
"Alors, yoor tha'un qui prétend être l'une des lumières du guerrier actuel."
... et plus conscient aussi. Peut-être qu'il avait jugé le chevalier trop tôt! "Bien sûr, mon bon homme! C'est plus ou moins une partie de mon sang depuis un certain temps, bien que je dise que la vie d'un héros est difficile », a-t-il hurlé la tête, laissant un soupir en plaçant une main sur sa poitrine.
« La sauvegarde de la vie des autres est une tâche périlleuse, tout comme la chasse aux monstres pour assurer la sécurité des routes pour les voyageurs et les marchands, et la vague constante de faux porteurs qui rejettent mes véritables découvertes, pah. » Blaike a craqué la dernière partie dans le dégoût. Le vigile roulait les yeux, se retournant brièvement avant de retourner son regard glacé.
Le gardien a parlé d'une manière peu adaptative, étouffant un bâilleur alors qu'il continuait d'interagir avec le drapé rouge. "Donc, on va être un héros, devine que tu as ces jolis noms, comme le seigneur ou la dame, je dirais?"
"Aha, tu veux dire les louanges et les titres de mon bon homme," son ton émane d'une nature joviale en levant un doigt, souriant brillamment au gardien plaqué. En tournant son index autour, il regarda dans les nuages, semblant perdu dans la pensée.
"J'ai acquis un couple au fil des ans... Le Descendant de la Lumière, Le Déroutant Magi-"
"La Farce Rouge Délusionnelle."
Blaike a entendu ce qu'il a murmuré sous son souffle, faisant semblant de ne pas l'entendre. À l'intérieur, il était un mélange d'ennui et de déception après toute cette conversation qu'ils ont eue... eh, un manque cette fois...
"Oui, euh, peu importe ce que tu viens de dire..."
Dans les instants qui suivirent, l'autre garde marcha précipitamment vers son compagnon, retournant à son poste, mais pas avant de s'adresser à Blaike.
"Vous êtes sur la liste de M. Fremont, allez dans la tente. Une mage blanche t'appellera là où elle est prête à se battre... donc, euh, g'luck."
Un résultat agréable et attendu; bien sûr quelqu'un d'aussi étonnant que lui était sur la liste des combattants, pourquoi ne serait-il pas? En grimpant le bord de son chapeau, il a donné aux deux gars une pointe légère. « Je crois que je dirais que mon adversaire en a plus besoin », a-t-il remarqué, laissant un sourire coquin en remerciant l'autre pour la petite conversation.
Un pas à la fois, Blaike franchit les gardes, leur donnant peu de pensée alors qu'il regardait la tente, prenant une vitesse à droite et brossant les couvertures et entrant à l'intérieur.
Il ne restait plus qu'à attendre qu'ils l'appellent. Bien sûr, bien que les escarmouches n'aient pas transpiré, il n'y avait aucun moyen qu'il perde...
Les héros sont ceux qui gagnent toujours après tout.
Name: Blaike Fremont
Title: "Descendant of Light", The Delusional Red Farce, The Wandering Magi
Race: Hume
Job: Red Mage
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Warrior of Light: Of course.

Appearance Information
Physical Features:
Blaike is rather tall for a Hume, standing at exactly six-foot-one, save for if he's wearing his hat. He carries himself with an air of confidence, sporting an athletic build underneath all that fluff and gloss. Blaike is a little tan to the say the least, though that comes around his hands and face. His usual coloration is of a fair pigmentation underneath it all, and it's difficult to discern that he even has a tan in the first place, unless looking closely at his neck or wrist. His light, almond tinted eyes are nearly similar to his unkempt short hair... if it was auburn in any way, shape or form; he does try his best to tame the beast from time to time, but it's usually a fools folly.
Other than a hardened chin, arms, and torso, his features are rather smooth to the touch, save for a beauty mark on his right cheek near his eye and one on his back near the mid-line of his spine. Has a few small cuts on his hand and his left seems to be healing from a small burn wound that covers mainly his thumb.
Clothing/Armor/Weapons:
His usual flair in his armor starkly contrasts his usual, everyday basic clothing. Blaike's clothing isn't as much stuffy, but his shirts color is a drab and pale, it's coloration being distinctly tan. While the shirt is airy, the pants he dons are somewhat tighter, but not by a whole lot; they are generally either olive or maroon in color, nothing too striking. Aside from that, he always has a knife on his body, usually stationed by his left hip.
Moving on to his main attire, the first things that usually catch the eye are the vivid shades of red cast around his body. One of the most prominent features of his outfit is the red hat sitting atop his head. With a belt attached onto the hat, Blaike has adorned it with two distinguishable and colorful feathers of an unknown origin. Moving on to the main dish, his main suit is dished up with black buttons and golden lines, held in place with a buckle. Underneath the style and elegance hides a thin layer of chain-mail. To top it off, he has white gloves and a singular pauldron resting on his left shoulder. Other things included are his blue trousers lined with gold, some nondescript brown boots, and a stylish purple cape with white fluff. Before he usually starts a battle, however, he tears the cape off and throws it to the wind.
As for weaponry, he's got four things to his name - a sword, a dagger, his magic, and some wits about him. His blade's hilt is shown to be meticulously crafted with elegance and the edge with some practicality for its design. Beautiful white contrasts with the darkened hilt with gold lacing drawn upon it. Claims to have received this weapon after assisting a blacksmith in gathering materials. It can uniquely do elemental damage if it absorbs one of Blaike's spells, but only for a little while. Blaike's dagger is nevertheless like any other dagger you would procure from a blacksmith, save that it is rather clean and taken care of.

Psychological Information
Personality Traits:
Arrogant | Fearless | Flirtatious | Relaxed | Stuborn
Likes:
Chocobo's | Stargazing | Tea
Dislikes:
Hot Weather | Snakes | Tofu

Personal History
Hometown:
Dahlgren City | Dahlgren
Current Residence:
Thorne City | Thorne
Occupation:
Other than functioning as a wandering mercenary after his, erm, "discovery," Blaike is also a scribe. He also dabbles a little in alchemy.
Backstory:
Fifty years ago, one of the great Warrior's of Light, a magi, fought along the other heroes as he drove back the Mage-King's army. Records outside of these heroic deeds displayed that, despite all his good deeds, that he was a notorious playboy who often would get on his wife's nerves due to his debauchery and, erm, "hanging around" with other women, married or not. Eventually that life came to an end during his work upon retreating and assisting in the creation of the nation that would come to be known as Dahlgren. Over the course of fifty years, his true name was lost due to the fact that the scribes misplaced some documentation of his existence somewhere in his archives. Regardless, they all could agree he settled down in Dahlgren as he faded away into legend.
So what does this exactly have to do with Blaike? Well...
Blaike believes he is the true descendant of the hero, the grandchild... not the son of the offshoots when he was fornicating with other mistresses. Y'see, the thing about this one is that there have been multiple people who have claimed this and yet no one can verify whether or not this is true. Anyways, lets go one step back, all the wa-a-a-ay to the beginning of his life.
Blaike's lineage can only be traced back to his mothers side with his fathers being nearly a complete blank when it came to it all. Taking on the Fremont name, his mother was a prominent Black Mage among the one-hundred other council members, being one of the more universally recognized members while the former was a rather powerful white mage. While he wasn't chosen to serve in the council, he did take on the job of a white magic instructor at the academy. There was also the facet that he was rather popular with female students, but that's something else that can be brushed off for a time.
To both of them, their first son Blaike (there were other children, but they aren't important), was to live a regular life, to live and die as either an instructor at the academy or earn his place to become a council member. The only thing they struggled with deciding was his school of magic. They were both well versed in their trades and neither would back down at their decision... so to compromise, they both decided it was for the best that he would learn both tools of the trade.
Blaike honestly didn't have too much of a problem with that, as he was already content with his life. Being a prodigy at a young age and earning the ire of some of his peers, heh, check. Having two pretty darn good mages for parents? Double check. Living a lascivious life of study and constant breakthroughs? Triple those checks. It was a good life for the most part... though there was something that cut into his studies as he rose up through the ranks at his school.
More often or not, Blaike was a curious child who would often have a book in his right hand and a light in his other as he explored different parts of this city, coming into contact with various interesting individuals. He ended up running into an unusual place that was very much out of place in this setting - a center for martial training. Curious, he wandered in to find a lesson being undertook and watched. Neither the master nor horned apprentice took note of the younger Blaike until after they finished their lesson. They did have a chat afterwords before the child left, with the apprentice escorting the kid home.
Over time, in conjunction with his magical studies, he would always come back to watch them clash, blade to blade and over time, before eventually he voiced his own opinions - he wished to become involved in these lessons. While this did earn a chuckle from the teacher at first, Blaike continued to display the same fierce determination each time and eventually after the teacher spoke with the apprentice one day, he finally caved in once Blaike reached the age of thirteen.
The teacher decided to see his form and how he handled the blade... before easily handing the young boys ass to him on a silver platter. Blaike was told so many things were horrendously wrong with what he just did when attempting to display his knowledge on the blade. He cried, but he didn't give up, which was a little surprising. Blaike got back up, ready to try again. He failed. And failed. And failed. While it was blatantly obvious the man was trying to dissuade him completely, Blaike kept standing up. In the end, Blaike lost all the battles and yet he won the war.
The young magi-in-training was told it would take a while for him to reach his potential, but he would train the boy along-side his wife. He was ecstatic and thanked the man, eagerly asking him when they would start. He was told to get some rest.
From here on out, blade and magic became intertwined with his studies. This new task made it increasingly difficult to balance these two tasks out. While it did take a minor toll on his magic, it just caused his skills to grow at a somewhat slower rate. It surprised his parents, even more so when they learned what he was doing, but dismissed it as nothing but a phase.
They ended up being much more incorrect when he reached the humble age of nineteen, where his ego took off faster than the Nautilus. It probably had to do with him being one of the few top students and the great feeling he got when fighting blade for blade with his master. Blaike took up the role as an apprentice scribe, adding even more loads of events to his plate. While recording and searching for documents, he discovered something rather quintessential and astonishing.
While digging through some old archives to update, he stumbled upon a few documents that recorded his grandparents. What was even more amazing is when the listed mage on there was a representative of the light - a Warrior of Light to be exact. With that, his own career took a complete 180 as he displayed the information to other scribes who were taken aback by this lost info. This set of information ended up being discussed between whether it was real or falsified, but what was for certain was that he was going to be boastful of his own lineage, now re-imagined and rediscovered.
This was still taking years to figure out as they called in multiple people to discuss if this was a fake, even trying to find the original person who chronicled it. And at the age of twenty-one he quit his job as a scribe, spoke to his master about expanding his own skills on his own journey to live up to his ancestor. While his master was wary about this, he attempted to talk a much older Blaike down... but like last time, he failed once again and decided to see the Red Mage off with a simple blade of his own.
And after that, he vanished himself. The only thing that was left behind was a letter to his family and master. Blaike honestly thought his parents would be ok with this... and now, he would never know.
Over the next three years, he fought monsters, other bandits wandering the wilderness, took up the trade of a mercenary who would either slay or gather. He spread word about over how he was the son of a former Warrior of Light, trying to use this "legacy" to his advantage. Most people thought him to be a mere lunatic or minstrel trying to earn a bit of coin... heck, he even believed himself to be an actual Warrior of Light.
Pfft, right, like that'll ever happen.
Even so, he continued to function as a scribe as well, assisting in some documentation, as well as picking up the trade of being an amateur alchemist as a hobby. Whatever is certain now, he now lives in the City of Thorne, taking up jobs mainly as a mercenary or scribe, sometimes going outside to gather some plants.
And as of now, with the celebration of the Mage-King underway, Blaike looks to participate in the festivities and possibly tournament... unaware of the tragedy that is about to befall the capital and possibly the rest of the floating continent.
Other:
Blaike is ambidextrous
Finds gambling to be somewhat enjoyable
Prone to spouting out cheesy lines