Abderraman al-Persahvi ben Alhmoodi
Game Information
Game Name Abderraman
Title(s) Satrap of Irujan vassal to His Majesty Kobad Shah.
Nickname(s) "Old Goat"
Race Iranistani
Class "Tempest of Set"
Guild Taskelion
Professions Diplomat,trader and Satrap.
Height 1. 90 meters.
Weight 96kg.
Build Strong legs, strong arms and broad shoulders.
Gender Male
Hair White-with a hint of dark blond.
Eyes Black.
Age 48( Looks odler do to certain episode)
Alignment Iranistan, al-Persahvi Clan.


  His appearence is that of an old man. His skin is hardened and crack due to his life at the desert. He stands in a rather simple man way, he nonetheless surpirses with noble  and educated movements. His body demonstrates his real age as he actually stands tall and firm.


As a young man he would not found any special joy in women, he was renown for not dealign much with them, and to never had spoken of any desire or taste for the other gender.This would change with the years as society's ways would change this, making him a man who could see sensuality even in the way a woman would lift up a cup. He was never supposed to one day become a soldier, nor diplomat, nor satrap; he was not trained for any of this since he was not the heir of his father yet he would have to face this in his life, all of this professions he later took would prove one thing, his hate for any kind of actual rigid work with others, and hence his agressiveness, with time this aspect of his would be controlled by years of meditation and experience, but until that came to be, he kept being violent.

A place in wich Abderraman always changed was his fmaily, he was a family man. A man who enjoyed palying with his children and tlaking with his many wives, this would be rather amazing for those who knew him out of this his fmaily life, some would even think he was possesed in the battlefield, or in the court.

After years of meditation and developping techniques to control his nature, he would seem as a relaxed man, who from time to time would have outbursts, wich woudl then quickly disappear when he inflicted himself some kind of damage.


As he walked down his villa at Anshar, nude under his purple robe Abderraman would looks at this walls in wich he had been inhabiting for the last two weeks. "How strange...." he said to himself, alone in front of one of his oil lantenrs.

He reminded two weeks ago, and an entire life ago how he had always lived at his tent, as the way of the nobles of his land demanded. He had only being in this his actual residence for a period that in his forty seven years of life would have all together made a month. He was not used to walls that did not wave like his tent's ones, nor to paintings that were not made of thread like in his tent but instead painted in bare stone. He remember the first time he was brought here to the nation's capital by his father's men.

"Long has it been since Alhmood al-Persahvi lost his other five sons, and brought the curse of the noble upon me" he said leaning against the wall, with watery eyes.

He was only fithteen, and he had been married for a year to his wife Ziré,they had a daughter, Tsaira, and they lived peacefully as part of the noble fmaily in Irujan under there own tent, he hunting and she growing what little grew on their watered pots. He though when seeing his father men, they brought news of the war, and they did, but they would also bring more with them, and also take. The merry news were this, his fiver brothers had died.

His words were:

"Shit!" he said while turning his face away, he did like his brothers, but he turned his face because this put him closer to inherit, lucky for him his fathers main wife was pregnated and the wise men said it was a male, so he did not had to worry, even better he could become the boy's teacher, win his friendship and one day retire to some country with much money.

As he continued to day dream about a fantastic future with hopes made out of the material of clouds, and though that relate more the mind of fools and other low life scum, he would be then smashed into reality, as young men normally are.

"Abderraman al-Persahvi ben Alhmoodi, you father calls you to his tent, in Qum capital of Irujan. He is to invest into your skin the mark of the heir on your bald head."

The words ment a new world for Abderraman. He was a sheep boy to the most, perhaps a great hunter, pushign it further a good husband.... but never was he trained for public life, nor treating bastards that weared gold between their lips and nipples. He wasn't trained to tolerate others, he was raised a simple man, yet his future was other.

Abderraman did not had to pack. What would he take anyway? his food bowl, his duaghter?. He went with only his wool robe, and this was no lie, his companions decided that the new heir of there Satrap should not ride such an old cammel as the one he had, and extended to him a fine beast a white Iranistnai steppish mare.

They would arrive at Qum, rather large city, nearly more than twenty hundred men, women and children. It was the capital of this large province the al-Persahvis had ruled for generations. A province of such size , it was the province with the greater quantity of nomads. The free space it had was perfect for the life the ancient Iranistanis had, making it one of provinces that produced the finest riders to the kingdom.

In the late years the quantity of people that had came to live all around the kingdom in cites had icnreased and so also the quantity of traders and wealthy men. Hence idea of the old Shahs a law was created to force noble and wealthy men to live in tents and only inhabit cities when business, war or religious activites take place.

To continue....

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