Aleksandar Josef Kane


Staff member
Server Owner
Aleksandar Josef Kane. Josf.
Meaning of Aleksandar: Defender of mankind
Meaning of Josef: God will increase

Solusrequiem's Alt character played on [GrumpyNam]
He won't be too active, but will hop in if some storyline is needed.

Age: 28
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual.
Current Residence: No strings
Relationship Status: Single
Social Status: Noble

Physical Appearance
Height: 5’11
Weight: Medium
Eye Color: Green
Skin Color: His complexion is pale with a freckle here or there, but otherwise fair.
Distinguishing Features: His eyebrows and the circles beneath his eyes.
Hair Color: Dark brown.
Hair Style: Slicked back, or to his right.
Posture: In front of nobles and family, he is straight laced and expression stoic. Around servants and peasants, relaxed with little care for his appearance.
Is Seen By Others As: Cold, Distant, Uncaring, Childish.
Scars: A cut on his left hand.

Strengths: Courage | Eager
Weaknesses: Envy | Guilt | Anger | Pride

+Long term absence from his mother
+Dying in a hunt
+Ambition consuming him into blindness
+Natural Illnesses

+His Mother's last words
+One sibling, sorta
+Kane lands
+His dignity

+Taught by his mother, Alison Kane, on scholarly languages, history and writing
+Taught by Inquisitor Aleksei of Ignis
+Practiced swordplay and hunting from a young age from Brennard in his early years, then by himself as he grew older

Languages: Common, Lavoyard, Rede
General Attitude: Cold and Calculating
Religious Inclination: Faintly still inclined to Ignis, but years of neglect have turned him away from religion
Alignment: Neutral.


Noble Wardrobe: A fur cloak usually rests upon his shoulders as the air freezes in Ironhaven. His boots are of fine leather making, shined and polished to combat against the snow crunching beneath him. HIs wardrobe tends to sport a black tunic and trousers, or muted colors. An embellished iron belt rests around his hips, and the same design curls around his wrists as cuffs.

+His father’s wedding ring (worn)
+His mother's wedding ring [x]
+The Kane's Royal Crown [x]

+A brown hunting mare named Marquis
+A striped, grey cat named Gustav

Owned Homes:
+Messer, sheathed
+A stiletto
+A water skin
+A roll of twine
General Wealth:
+1,000 radiants from the banks of Ironhaven

+Anemic - He needs to remember to eat, or he’ll get dizzy and sick. Ironic, considering what he is now an Earl of.
+Allergic to idiocy.

Peaceful or violent: Not one to go seeking violence. If it tries to find him, it just depends how much he cares enough to conflict.

+His father’s Messer, sheathed
+A hunting bow

Combat Training
+Swordplay - Basic~Intermediate
+Archery - Basic

Training & Skills
Making Traps - ?/10
Fencing - 4/10
Hunting Game - 5/10
[x] Bird
[x] Rabbit
[x] Fox
[ ] Deer
[ ] Boar
[ ] Bear
[ ] Wendigo

Short Term Goals
+Reconnect with blood.
+Learn how to lead via various leaders from the outside world or inside. Wherever.
+Find what he desires

Long Term Goals
+Earn Respect

Alison Kane (mother) Elz
Edmund Hallon (father) [Deceased] Rygan
Elizabeth Kane (half-sister) Niah
Charles Kane (half-brother) Lannis
Brennard Westmay (mother's husband) Mitch

Peter Hallon (grandfather) [Deceased] Cap
Elaine Hallon (grandmother) [?] Smurf
Niah Kane (grandmother) [Deceased] Niah
Alistair Kane (grandfather) [?] The Living Ghost
Arthur Hallon (uncle) Cap


Elizabeth: Recalls her to be closed off, eager and inspired. Niah
Alison: Recalls her to be self invested and sick. Elz
Brennard: Recalls him to be distant and dismissive. Mitch
Charles: Recalls him to be impulsive and young. Lannis
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Staff member
Server Owner

Aleksandar Josef Kane, was once a Hallon, a direct heir to Anhald and the Empire’s vast lands. But there brewed a tragic war between the members of his two bloodlines after his father’s death. He took the advice of his dear mother at the age of 10 and relinquished his title of Anhald, the name Hallon, and all that it held after the death of King Peter, his grandfather. He then carried the name “Kane” with pride. It is one of authority. He knows it keeps him protected from the outside world and the many noble families that have earned his mother’s trust and scorn. He also knows that both his surnames could be the cause of his death, even the one he seals in his pocket now, with a cracked confliction of guilt and shame. He often delves into the idea that he was unwanted because of the bloods that run through his veins and the conflict between an ancestry trying to linger and one that carries notoriety. Dark thoughts are not foreign to him in the secluded life he lived. He’s had many more, each varied.

A cold, young man, he had little say in the life he lived now. It was all dictated by his mother, Duchess Alison Kane, though he had no wish to disregard it -even as a young adult. The memories of his blood-father are faint, he was only 8 winters when he died, even then the man was distant. And his grandfather and grandmother are fainter, an old man and woman. His uncle, he would recall every now and then, Arthur Hallon, for he had threatened war between their families and fled as the man who stands beside his mother now, defended her. After being raised in Queensport while his half-siblings were born, he went on to live in Ironhaven for another eight years, a place he considers home. This is where most of his memories he recalls were bred from, the past being quite a blur of emotions. The stiff exteriors of the fort walls that shield him from the winter snow reflects his interactions and how he composes himself around others, regardless of who they were. There is little warmth in him, for he was not shown to share it with others, save for the affection and trust he does with his mother. His youthful self once praised and mentioned Ignis when he cared to speak, due to his scholarly teachings, but as he grew older, the heavy interest faded for swordplay and hunting. He does not expect much from others now, servants or noble, and knows they always seek him out with greedy eyes, looking for something in return for paying attention to him. The smiles on their faces were always false to him as they turned to sneers when they looked away. But he played the part, if that was what mother wanted. He loved her, as sons would. Despite her figuratively sending him down to a fort of nothingness by himself for most of his life while she raised another family, then granted him a title that truly bound him there in the last two years, some part of him believed it might be to protect him from those who hated the Hallon blood or the big choice he barely remembers. Though on the surface, he knows it is to learn how to lead in some capacity, having given up a more flourished lifestyle. In the last two years, he’s become a bit more familiar with his half-siblings as the whole family spent time in Ironhaven while Queensport was infested by gigantic Spider nests, but they kept their distance and he kept his. Most of his days were spent by his mother’s side. It was brief, but his demeanor remained respectable, being a new host. The family then left again, and he’d spend his days hunting in the woods around the walls- a sport he began to love. In recent months, Alison had sent his half-brother for company, to be taught swordplay. To his astonishment, the boy had grown, carrying around a hint of his mother and the guardsman. He reflected some of the care his mother gave him to the younger boy, albeit with an awkwardness about him every now and then.

Despite his relationship with his mother, he cannot bring himself to consider Brennard a step-father, not that he expected him to. He sees the man as selfish for swooping into his mother’s life under the pretense of being loyal to his deceased father, or so the kitchen servants whispered back in Queensport at the age of nine.. He used to find it odd and a great disservice, since he was friendly with Brennard at a young age and looked up to him with great regard. The man is by no means weak, Alek is cordial, but the feeling was not easy to leave. The man also took his mother’s love from Alek, enough to marry again and have two more children. Ones that were given far more attention than he, he thinks. But now he believes the guardsman cares for his mother and that she is protected around him- this is the extent of his consideration of Brennard. In this relationship, Alek is the one that keeps distance.

He used to care little for his half-siblings as he had not seen them for years, and they shared Brennard’s blood. But with recent familiarity with his half-brother, he has come to see him as one of his own that should probably be cared for. He does hold some resentment towards the two twins, how they live their lives with both a mother and a father dotting on them, and more, but he keeps it to himself. He is curious, now, of the prospective of caring for more than just his mother and wonders if it’s possible.

The years he is in Ironhaven are blurry, but when he recalls his past, a few things are envisioned:

+He distant profile of his father and mother
+Throwing tantrums as a child when his mother left him alone for long periods of time
+Smiling to his mother near a fireplace as she taught him Rede
+Brennard giving him his first crossbow and teaching him swordsmanship
+Being taught lessons of Ignis from Lord Inquisitor Aleksei
+Father’s death
+Nobles babbling about war in Queensport
+His mother trying to convince him to relinquish his title as Emperor of Anhald and break the authority he had over the lands at the age of 10. His head bobbing in forlorn agreement.
+Looking out of his bedroom window in Ironhaven one windy night, seeing the reflection of hungry eyes from a wendigo.
+Pretending he was an Emperor on a balcony in Ironhaven after a heavy snowstorm. At the age of 13- he waved to a crowd of snow-people below him, making a speech. it was amusing to him. A servant girl walked out with a tray of tea, catching him in the act, and he lashed out at her enough to scare her away and shatter the teacups. His face red with anger, his hands cut from hiding evidence of the encounter
+His first hunt and the taste of it
+His mother telling him he was now “Earl of Ironhaven”
+A swarm of spiders attacking peasants in Queensport
+Days spent hunting in Ironhaven

(Memories from when I actually start playing him)
+Elizabeth's visit after the ball
+War is hell
+Fight with the Grape King
+Discord with Alison
+Alison's goodbye

+Picking up pieces
+On his own
+Can no longer be on his own, safety compromised
+Finds his way to the 'Beacon of Plague hope' that is Linlea. Exists among the crowds.
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Staff member
Server Owner
Side note: This is a character that's been passed around 3 times, from the parent players to other volunteers. I've done what I could to gather what he's been raised by over the years as it's all been mostly ooc progress, and he'll still start out as a fresh character with basic skill sets. If you've rp'ed with him before, I've gone with saying he's forgotten most interactions because of being alone in Ironhaven for so long. It'll be a struggle, but will do what I can.
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I like it but don't think cripplingly low iron will let you escape from having to live up to being a cool dude....


Staff member
Server Owner
Added some additions in sight of things- He's not available at the moment, but he seems to at least be mentally prepared for things to occur or take turns.


Staff member
Server Owner
Changed some things.

I'll admit, there were some ooc motivations as a server owner that I didn't want to be involved in war again. And there's already some on main character's region around that is enough and ok to handle. Because in the end, I have to moderate it all and it drains some fun of things for me. I'm sorry to folks I rp with, but it's now reflected in Alek's sickness of it along with the buildup that caused it.


Staff member
Server Owner

Greying rag in hand, his hand slowly polished an object on his lap, milky white and yellow. Knuckles bruised with drying cuts, his eyes glazed over as he squinted into the horizon as dawn began in hues of oranges, blues and purples. He lamented, then, the cold wind brushing against his form. A crease formed on his forehead - underneath the clumps of his dark un-cut hair. But it was brief and the spring air settled as it turned to warmth.

The grassland before him began to lighten against the rays of the sun and he blinked out of his reverie. The rag was tossed aside onto a cluster of its relatives and he laid the polished object upon a rock. He stood, brushing the dust from his back. His tunic and trousers were done and dusted and soles on his feet ached for a change of setting, but he began picking up straps and belts to fasten against the rest of his body, pocketing essentials. A small camp lay about him, with a fire all died out. A tent rested behind him, where he had sat. A few belongings lingered here and there- wooden pot, cup, a makeshift stick spoon.. His eyes followed them all, as he cleaned up, burying them in the tent so no creature would stumble upon it. His head lifted, listening for any noise of scrambling feet.

Finally prepared, he’d pluck the object on the rock and lift it towards his head. The hallowed skull of a fox fit nicely, its jaw was removed for him to breathe beneath it. Green eyes eerily peered out from the sockets and he smiled a crooked smile at his new found toy. Strapping a crossbow and quiver of arrows behind him, he picked up a propped spear, freshly sharpened the night before. He licked his lips, eager for a meal.

He stepped forward, but paused, and rerouted, spear still in hand, circling the small clearing. “Where are my manners,” he spoke. The large trees loomed above after a few moments and he stood before one of the leafier ones. “Kept the clearing safe?” He murmured, his voice husky from lack of wear. He tapped the end of the spear against the tree and gave a mock bow towards it. “Elizabeth.” Silence responded as the branches swayed above. He continued on, his spear ready to tap against a similar tree to the first, more stockier- but on the opposite side of the clearing. “Charles”.. Another mock bow was given, and he straightened. “Good of you, both… Stiff as usual. Growing well, at least, hm?” He’d remark, and gaze back up at the sky. Light spilled between his fingers, his palm growing warm. Two rings rested against each other, sparkling a few times. He’d stare at them with some semblance, then lowered his hand from blocking the sun, alert, lifting his head sharply. ..A creature crooned in the distance.

He tread, then, slipping passed the large trees about, his eyes and senses becoming more aware of the woods around his campsite. He began a familiar rhythm. A hunt.