Within the swirling Mist (IC) > Biographies

Ionachea Miklos



A Barovian in many ways, though very pretty in boyish way.

Deep brown hair and pair of eyes of lighter shade. Often a beginning stubble. When he talks, he talks quietly or in occasion with a commanding tone - Though rarely takes use of the full volume of his beautiful, singing voice.

Part of us is our history:

Rainy evening of late Spring, or early Winter. Yesterday mom and dad had left to Vallaki to sell all that the summer had grown.
Ionachea was walking outside, rather far from their home even that the day was still far from turning to evening; It was safe. He frowned, seeing something blocking the road far ahead..

Walking closer for a while, he soon started to run. It seemed like a.. Wagon?
And it was a familiar wagon. Covered in blood, his dad dead - Few crude slash wounds, skull crushed by a club. Mom missing.. Hopefully dead, Ionachea would later think.
The shocked boy stood still for half an hour, until beginning silent sobbing and turning to run to home..
He knew he couldn't stay home anymore - No parents.. The creatures out there, creatures, that would apparently be armed and hunting in daylight.
His parents had always felt remote, sort of. He was literate as taught by his grandmother. Someone, who his parents didn't much appreciate him spending any time with - The few books he had he read many times. His parents would see it useless, rather have him grow turnips just like they had.
He was still broken by their death, maybe not as much other kids would been.. After few days he head off from their somewhat remote farm, taking the family savings. Not much, but enough for a month or two, to find work.

Vallaki, natural choice, for it was the closest town and one he had visited on several occasions during the trips taking from half week to week.


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