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Leonceault Beaumont
Knight Commander"•
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Race
Elezen
Clan
Duskwight
Free Company
None
Introduction
Lord Leonceault Beaumont of House Beaumont, Knight Commander of the Silver Order.
Player's notes
No additional notes provided by the player.
Character Information
Basic details about Leonceault Beaumont
Age
34
Race
Duskwood (Half WW and DW)
Partner
Single
Pronouns
He/Him
Occupation
Knight Commander
Body Type
Large & Muscular
Birthplace
Ishgard
Residence
Plot 36, 21st Ward, The Goblet
Background
The story of the character's origins
Description:
Leonceault stands as a titan among men, towering at seven fulms and six ilms with a physique sculpted by the forge of battle. His frame is a testament to raw power and relentless discipline—a broad, barreled chest, thick, corded arms, and a stance that exudes the coiled strength of a beast poised to strike. He moves with a paradoxical grace, his steps both deliberate and feral, akin to a lion prowling its domain.
His dark brown hair falls in unrestrained waves to the base of his neck, framing a face hewn with sharp, chiseled features as though carved from Ishgardian stone. Piercing gold eyes, flecked with onyx, gleam with a predatory intensity, their contrast as striking as the man himself. There is a fire within them, a battle-born gleam that speaks of experience hard-won and trials endured.
Scars, the indelible marks of war, lace his body like a warrior’s tapestry. The most formidable of these is the labyrinthine web of keloids that crisscross his back—a permanent reminder of the Dragonsong War, each line a story of survival and sacrifice. Yet, despite this, his expression is often one of quiet understanding, a softened echo of the noble blood that courses through his veins. In moments of severity, however, his countenance hardens into the stern resolve of a knight unshaken by adversity.
His lips bear a natural rosiness, a stark contrast to the savage white teeth within—a smile both charismatic and commanding. His skin is a warm, tawny hue, unmarred by variation, stretched taut over a form sculpted for war. The sharp lines of his musculature are unmistakable, his abdomen so rigidly defined that one could count each segment with ease. His presence alone speaks of barely contained power, a weapon of flesh and bone honed to perfection.
Clad in armor of deep blues, burnished bronzes, and glimmering silvers, Leonceault carries himself with the meticulous care of a seasoned warrior. Every piece of his gear is polished, oiled, and tended to with a discipline befitting a knight of his station. A soldier, a noble, a lion of Ishgard—he is all these things and more, a force of nature sculpted by war, duty, and the unyielding march of fate.
Personality:
Leonceault presents himself as a man of unwavering discipline and stoic decorum, a knight whose noble upbringing has instilled a rigid sense of propriety. He is unfailingly polite, even in the face of hostility, though his words often carry a weight of quiet authority. Rarely does he offer a smile, and even when he does, it is seldom a thing of warmth—more often, it is the sharp, fleeting grin of a predator indulging in the moment before the kill. Earnest to a fault, he holds himself to exacting standards, appearing almost austere in his devotion to duty and martial discipline.
Yet beneath the measured restraint lies something far more primal. Battle is not merely a duty to him; it is exhilaration, a test of will and might that stirs something deep and insatiable within. He fights with unnerving calm, and his every movement is precise, but mercy is a courtesy he rarely affords his enemies. To him, the battlefield is a place of absolute judgment, where justice is meted out in blood and steel. He believes his cause is righteous, and he strikes the execution of fate’s decree—but in truth, Leonceault relishes the violence more than he admits. It is an unspoken hunger he keeps tightly shackled beneath layers of knightly restraint. Yet when opportunity allows, when he can justify his brutality within the bounds of duty, he does not hesitate to unleash it.
His loyalty to those he considers his own is unwavering, and his ideals of strength, honor, and camaraderie are sacrosanct. He reveres the ‘warrior’s way’—a doctrine of discipline, conviction, and the belief that true strength is earned through trial. To him, battle is not a thing to be waged from the shadows or manipulated from afar. This belief fosters a quiet but deep-seated disdain for those who wield magic, particularly Thaumaturgy. The Elements are wild, chaotic, and untamed—tools of destruction that defy the order and discipline he holds dear. Though he remains outwardly civil to casters, he views their methods as anathema to his own, considering them distant and impersonal. True warriors, in his eyes, charge into battle, blade in hand, willing to meet their fate head-on.
For all his restraint and refinement, Leonceault is, at his core, a man forged in blood and battle. A knight, a lion, a beast bound in iron chains—ever struggling against the primal hunger within.