| Great | - | Courage  , Fencing  |
| Good | - | Athletics , Fisticuffs , Marksmanship |
| Poor | - | Comeliness , Education  |
Captain Ivan Rostov
| Name: | Captain Ivan Rostov | Occupation: | Dashing Hussar | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Place of Birth: | Moscow | Current Residence: | Barracks of the Chevaliers Guardes, Odessa. | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Appearance: | Though still only in his thirties, the perils of war have taken their toll on Ivan Rostov leaving him scarred and grizzled. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Childhood: | Born to a poor family, Ivan’s father was a furrier running a small fur shop in Moscow. He joined the army at a young age to escape the poverty and drudgery of life in the city. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Education: | No formal schooling, but he has attended military academy in Moscow. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Virtue: | Unwilling ever to accept defeat. | Vice: | Impatient | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Style: | Always imaculate in his uniform. | Personality: | Battle-hardened. Gruff and harsh. | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Likes: | Good discipline and smart appearance. | Dislikes: | Cowards. | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Most valued principle: | Courage in the face of adversity. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Most treasured possession: | His 'Order of Peter the Great' awarded for valour on the field of battle at Alva. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Most valued person: | His father, and the Russalki Raisa. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Nemesis: | The Vodyany Gregov, husband to the Russalki of the Dneiper. | Alliances: | Regiment of the Chevaliers Guardes. | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Romantic Life: | Though he enjoys bedding the young women attracted by the glamour of his uniform Ivan is enamoured of the Russalki Raisa. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Social Goal: | To be accepted as a member of the aristocracy rather than merely a nouveau riche. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Professional Goal: | To enhance his reputation as one of the best trainers of young warriors in Russia. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Romantic Goal: | Wishes to take the Russalki (river spirit) of the Dneiper as his wife. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Abilities: |
| |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Action most regretted: | While he has no regrets about the status that is money has brought him, Ivan is fearful that someone will discover the source of his wealth and reveal him as an imposter. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Proudest moment: | Being offered a commission in the elite Chevaliers Guardes. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Hits : | 6 | Damage Taken: | ||||||||||||||||||||||
The Memoirs of Captain Ivan Rostov
To the reader, permit me to introduce myself. I am the proud hussar, Captain Ivan Rostov, of the Chevaliers Guardes based at the barracks in Odessa. The Guardes are the elite regiment of the Imperial cavalry, attracting the attentions of the finest and most beautiful women. There is something in the bearing of an officer and the cut of the uniform that draws their eyes. Though I could not be considered handsome, I have my fair share of romantic assignations. Life as an officer in the Tsar’s army is good, but it has not always been so for me.
I was born of humble origins in the backstreets of Moscow. My father was a furrier who ran a small store that catered to the rich and the nobility of the city. Every day, soldiers, fine gentlemen and ladies frequented my father’s shop. I hungered for such a life as theirs, filled with gaiety and wealth.
Joining the army gave me an opportunity to improve my station. During the war against the French and British forces in the Crimea, my acts of heroism drew the notice of senior officers in my regiment. Twice I was recognised in despatches for valour on the field of battle, decorated at Alva, and I received a promotion at Balaklava for taking charge of my squad when our officer was killed.
The siege of Sevastapol made my reputation, and my fortune. I was one of the few who survived that terrible winter inside the walls and received promotion once more, to sergeant, for my role in defence of the city. By chance one day, while out patrolling alone at the site of the most recent British shelling, I chanced upon a looter in the ruins of the old council chambers. I killed the man, as my orders demanded for such a crime, then realised that the sack he carried was filled with coin from the city treasury. Nobody was around to witness my actions, so on an impulse I hid the sack in the rubble once more. When the siege was ended, I took this money with me for my own.
With the war at an end I received my discharge and bought for myself a small estate in the forests along the banks of the river Dneiper in southern Russia. The purchase cost most of my new-found riches, but I was subsequently able to live adequately on the rent paid by farmers and hunters wishing to ply their trade on my land. Within a year my father joined me there, and with his contacts in the Moscow fur trade we were able to renegotiate the prices offered to the trappers for their pelts, and in doing so we improved our own income.
With the shadows of war once more threatening the Rodina, I was approached by senior officers in the elite Chevaliers Guardes who offered me a commission in the regiment. While I was not noble-born, I was now of the landed gentry and moreover, a decorated veteran of the war in the Crimea. Though the youngest officers in the regiment are barely half my age, and all are the sons of noble families, these generals were concerned that their troops would need the sage advice and proven worth of veterans such as myself should they ever be sent to war.
Thus, after attending a formal course in military etiquette at the famed Moscow academy of the martial sciences (where I first learned to read and write), I took up my commission at the Guardes barracks in Odessa, not far from the Crimean peninsular where my military life had begun. On the parade ground, my uniform is always immaculate; while on the training grounds I am strict and harsh. As a Regimental Sergeant Major, it is my duty to whip these young cadets into an elite unit, regardless of their rank or social status.
I met Sir Sebastian, our host, several years ago, before rejoining the army, when it was necessary for me to negotiate a truce with the Russalki that inhabits the river Dneiper. It was the intent that I would speak with the lady in her own realm. A local scholar of science had created a helm of clear glass that permitted the wearer to see, act and breathe under the water, linked to the surface by a long, flexible tube through which air was passed using bellows. Realising that the Russalki's mate, a Vodyany river demon, might be close by, I requested the aid of volunteers to guard my back. To my surprise, an Englishman stepped forward from the crowd that had gathered by the dock offering his companionship for the adventure.
While I faced off against the Vodyany, armed only with my sword, Sir Sebastian spoke with the lady of the waters. He seems to have a way with members of the fairer sex, for she prevented her husband from attacking and allowed us to negotiate with her. How such a beautiful creature could marry an ugly monster like the Vodyany, I cannot understand. When I caught her eye, I saw a hunger to be free from him and perhaps a hope that I might save her. Some day when I am strong enough, I shall return and kill the monster, and then she and I will be wed.