“The Empire builds its foundations on lies. I will die only for the truth.”

LEGAL NAME: Tiber pyr Gallius
NICKNAME[S]: Tibs, “Tiber Clipeatus,” “Tiber Dawnshield”
DATE OF BIRTH: 12th Sun of the 6th Umbral Moon (November 11) (age 26)
GENDER | SPECIES: Male | Garlean
PRONOUNS: He/Him
PLACE OF BIRTH: Garlemald

CURRENT LIVING CONDITIONS: Camp Broken Glass, Garlemald
SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Garlean, Common

RELIGION: N/A
CLASS: Gladiator
OCCUPATION: Frontline fighter for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn; former Imperial decurion
FINANCIAL SITUATION: Middling
ALIGNMENT: Lawful Good
CRIMINAL RECORD: Desertion
DRINK | SMOKE | DRUGS: Yes | Yes | No
LIKE[S]: Dogs, snow, Garlean music, dancing, good food, expensive cigarettes, Garlean beer, cheap dimestore paperbacks, fancy clothes, drinking, traditional Garlean cuisine, scalekin
DISLIKE[S]: Heat, dirt, sand, grimy or dusty living conditions, scruffiness, abuse of power, Eorzean alcohol and cigarettes, being mocked
HOBBIES: Smoking, reading, practicing his swordplay, playing the saxophone
FEAR[S]: Being forced to return to the Empire, failure

PERSONALITY TRAITS: Considerate, loyal, principled, tactless, diligent, dramatic, kind, gallant

{ P H Y S I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N }

HAIR COLOR/TYPE: Golden blond, thick, & wavy, kept just long enough to brush back
EYE COLOR: Violet
HEIGHT: 6’4”
WEIGHT: Average
BUILD: Solidly muscular, broad-shouldered and very physically fit
SKIN: Pale peach
SCARS: Minor scars littered over his body; old knife scar across chest; fresh burn scars over left pec and shoulder in a deliberate spiralling pattern
TATTOOS: N/A
DISTINGUISHING MARKS
–In addition to his third eye (which he does usually put a hat over), he has a Garlean accent you could spread on toast. He’s also very tall and muscular for someone trying to pass as an average Hyur, and Highlanders usually have more facial hair and less eyebrow.

–Smells faintly but persistently of cigarette smoke.

–Tends to walk and carry himself like a soldier when he’s aware of being watched; when he isn’t, he becomes much more animated.

COMMON ACCESSORIES
–Carries a Garlean officer’s gunblade and clearly knows how to use it.

–A cigarette case, plain brushed steel with a decorative wave design stamped on it. It looks cheap and unsuited for the fine state of his armor and clothes.

–When out of armor, he favors very well-made clothes, but seems to be alternating between the same two shirts a lot. One suspects he’s used to having more money than he currently does.

FIGHTING STYLE

aggressive | cautious | hard-and-fast | tactical | defensive | protective | all out | wait-and-see | charge in headlong | reckless | self-sacrificing | party-oriented | loner |

DIFFICULTIES: Cannot manipulate aether, and must therefore rely on magitek & his own strength. Tends to disregard his own injuries.

{ F A M I L Y I N F O R M A T I O N }

SIBLING[S]: Portia “Brewster” bas Gallius (older sister)
PARENT[S]: Julia cen Tirus (mother), Cicer sas Gallius (father, deceased)
CHILDREN: N/A
PETS[S]: N/A

{ R E L A T I O N S H I P I N F O R M A T I O N }

SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Homosexual
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single
FRIENDS: Vivian Capsari and Q’yala Terret, Scion squadmates; Hoary Boulder, fellow Scion; to a lesser degree, most of the crew of Garlond Ironworks
ENEMIES: The entire Garlean Empire in general; personally hates and fears Temira eir Harenata for torturing him.

{ P E R S O N A L }

HISTORY: Tiber pyr Gallius is the younger of two children born to a Garlean couple in Garlemald’s capital city. Though he knew there was a war going on at the borders, it didn’t touch his early life until the day his father was called to serve aboard the Agrius—a mission he would not return from. He was young enough at the time that his only clear memory of the man is a hug and a voice telling him to be good. He took that command to heart, training to one day become a soldier just like his father had been. While his older sister took to civilian life, he studied the sword and gunblade as well as Imperial military history, preparing to enter one of the many academies training young officers. The loss of his sister’s fiance at Carteneau pushed her towards the army, and for a time they bonded in their shared grief.

And then she joined the XIVth, shipping out mere weeks before the entire legion was deemed traitorous and officially cut off from all remaining supplies. Tiber, who by then had been accepted to the military academy and was in the midst of his own training, could only wait for her infrequent letters and trust she was doing well. They came regularly at first, then slowed—and then stopped altogether, as he grew ever more absorbed by the Imperial war machine.

News of Operation Archon first reached the city’s radio stations with a list of the dead. The legion—Portia included—was officially declared wiped out, a victim of the Eorzean Alliance’s cruel scheme to wipe the castri from lands that by right ought to belong to Garlemald. Tiber reeled with grief, but when his mother pleaded with him to drop out of his last few years of training, he refused. Portia had not been able to uphold their honorable family name—had died before she could do it—and so he would fight in her stead. Dying in service of the Empire was becoming something of a family tradition, after all. And yet, his first deployment—Ala Mhigo, as a decurion—was not the heady rush of glorious combat he’d envisioned. Gyr Abania, though facing the first stirrings of opposition from the Eorzean Alliance, had been thoroughly subjugated; the troops he had been given to command, whom he’d hoped to protect and guide, were a pack of bullies and thugs. His attempts at restoring some flavor of decency to their conduct were sharp and pointed enough to earn him their hatred. When he finally saw battle, it ended almost immediately in his unit’s capture. Though he bargained for their lives, at least until a trial, he resigned himself to death.

And then as he sat in his prison cell in Ala Ghiri, struggling to make himself understood through his imperfect command of Common, an interpreter came to reassure him that he was probably not, in fact, going to be executed. That the Alliance didn’t do that. That there were trials and due process and that an officer so new to the army that his uniform still had the tags on it was not on anyone’s kill list. That, in short, he had a life to look forward to.

He chose to devote it to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. While most of that decision was due to wanting to protect his former cellmate, a conscripted Garlean citizen and Echo-bearing spellcaster, he also just wanted to dismantle the Empire before it destroyed the world and then itself. Learning it was a creation of the Ascians only widened his scope. Following tours of duty in Ghimlyt and Werlyt, he became well-known enough for reckless self-sacrifice that a squad of Frumentarii was sent to capture him for information on other deserters. They failed, but he still bears the scars and a marked dislike of fire.

And then Garlemald fell, torn apart from within by Ascian machinations, and he was first to volunteer for the Ilsabard Contingent. He has remained there ever since, only reluctantly leaving when his fellow Scions all but force him to take a break. Along the way, he’s become known for his skills both with the gunblade and with the saxophone.

YOU MIGHT KNOW HIM IF…

–you sell fine Garlean imports, especially clothing and cigarettes

–you sell tobacco and related products

–you’re a Scion or live in areas where they pass through

–you’re a current or former Imperial operative, especially an officer; Tiber’s brief time in Ala Mhigo was enough to give him a reputation as either a stuck-up prick who cared too much about decorum, or the only principled man in the legion. You’ll probably have heard he shot a man for disobeying orders

–you were an Imperial conscript stationed in Ala Mhigo; you’ll probably have heard the order in question was “keep your hands off the Aan or I shoot you where you stand.”

–you were involved near the very end of the fight to retake Ala Mhigo

–you’re a member of the Resistance or Allied forces who were stationed in Ala Ghiri during that time

–you’re male-shaped and reasonably attractive; odds are Tiber’s walked into a wall or two to get a better look

RP HOOKS:

• “Pyr Gallius?! What are you doing here?” - Former Imperials, Tiber Gallius wants you! If nothing else, to kvetch about all the things he misses from home and about how we totally could have hung onto the provinces if we weren’t so pointlessly evil. Loyal Imperial citizens need not apply, unless you want a stern lecture or a punch in the face.

• “What is that you’re singing?” - Though he’d never call himself a bard, Tiber does enjoy music; he has a fine tenor and some middling skill at the saxophone, and picks up Eorzean songs easily. Even if he does think they’re weird and twangy.

• “When we asked for Scions, we weren’t expecting…you.” - Despite his enthusiasm for his new job, the fact that Tiber is visibly and blatantly Garlean is something of a black mark against him. He’s getting used to it. You might not.