Name: A man that bears more than one name is barely an uncommon sight, though in this day and age hardly reserved for a commoner the likes of his initial upbringing, the young man bears the moniker of Emperor Mianti and is addressed as such by any of his peers, no matter their name, rank, story or origin. Once upon a time, when the Imperial City of Thria, a place called Quansan, was not within his scope of vision, but a blotch of half-dried ink on an infants vast mind, his mother called for him as A-wei, a nickname neither long-lived nor much beloved, as the childs entire name and identity was that of a Yiwei Duán, a mere morsel into the right direction once someone tries to uncover who the young emperor truly is. After his adoption into the imperial family, of which there is not a single soul left, his last name was adjusted to fit that of his stand-in for a father, making him Yiwei Qiu, a name that his official documents hardly ever bear, though his signature requires it, alongside his moniker. Those that eat from his hands like starving messenger pigeons know that Emperor Mianti is more than meets the eye, perhaps not in his current state, but if one were to dig deep, deep down into the recesses of his mind, then they'd find that missing piece of a puzzle they all seem to be fiending over.

Age: A number, one to take, one to give, none to keep - none of Mianti's documents are official, so to speek, they were shoehorned into the registry, details switched and changed around to make the false pieces fit in line with lies about his origin that the courtesans spun like a fine web. Officially, the Emperor is close to the cusp of his golden age, a mere twenty-five years old, but one look wasted on the scrawny youngling is enough to assume something is off, something that an advisor explains away by the conditions he lived in for most of his young life, until they pulled him away from his hometown of Tianmin, into the clammoring embrace of the poisoned palace in Quansan. Squalor, poverty and starvation was enough to stunt his growth, making him a whole 160 centimeters tall, a story none but the foolish doubt, an edge over the whispers of his adversaries, his enemies, his late father's ever doubtful loyalists - but they aren't wrong. Mianti may be twenty-five this year, his documents speak as much, but Yiwei? He's hardly twenty-one, barely adult enough to make a decision of his own, so much so that even the finer things like a glass of baijiu earn his ire, burn on the way down his throat and make him grimace without end.

Personality: Most of his aides would describe the young Yiwei as a playful, if sad child, overtly attached to a mother that gave him away for the promise of a better future, in exchange for some coin, for a life that she would hardly ever have to fend for again. A home, her very own, without any worries to ever be had. But that would merely apply to the child that came to the palace, that hadn't seen the world this side of the banquet table, free of rust and dust, of broken homes and dreams. Emperor Mianti is a stoic scholar, with a sharp glint in his otherwise dulled eyes. Nothing escapes him, not the whispers among the concubines in their harem, nor the scheming servants, or the gossip that his personal cooks share in dragged out, suspenseful banter - he cares for none of it, is indifferent to most things at court, tries to remain as neutral as a man of his standing can be in any sort of official capacity. Maybe that is exactly why the young emperor is a handful, so hard to handle and perpetually angry. His court calls him The Tiger Emperor or simply The Tiger at times, his mood volatile, the swings in it immediate, his mood so foul, it is only right he does not believe in atonement by execution but hard labor, which seems to build character and discipline, both of which the snake-tongued, sweet-talking young lad seems to lack, alongside a composure that is usually reserved for the men of his standing. Anger is his lifeline, and a catfight with Emperor Mianti hardly survived in one piece - his education, as plenty and loving as it was, seemingly messed up by the many different hands that had a hand in his development. Few of the concubines, plenty and gentle the lot of them, fancy Emperor Mianti over his late father, and those that dare themselves or one another to spend time with him soon find that the plague the old ministers unleashed upon the Imperial Palace of Quansan, cares but for himself and not for the ineptness of his peers. Emperor Mianti is the main actor in his own play, one that he finds himself shackled and bound by, like a captured wild beast, unwilling to have himself declawed even years down the line. They say whoever can stand him, can stand alongside him, can endure his temper, shall be blessed with hundreds, no, thousands of coins of gold.

Trivia:
- Barely anyone at the Court knows about his origins at this point, making it a well-kept secret and those old, decrepit geezers that still do know are not to live much longer, let alone for an eternity. Of course he'd never dispose of them himself, but their age is indeed catching up to them.
- Mianti has no actual blood relation to the former Emperor, making the story about his valiant father a mere rouse. In his lifetime, he's seen the rotting, barely talking, hardly walking corpse, twice - once upon his own arrival, then on his deathbed. The words they exchanged were few.
- Though he'd deny it, thoroughly no less, he's sent for his very mother with his own riches a few times, enough to enable her to have a comfortable life in a house, with all her expenses paid for her. Mianti never visits, out of fear to place harm upon the woman, and thus barely knows her, except for the few letters they are permitted to send one another each year, every single one making his eyes sparkle like he'd just received everything he'd ever wished for.
- Having grown up in a rather impoverished setting for the first few years of his life indeed has stunted his growth, though not his mind, something that he accepts, albeit begrudgingly, in the hopes that the rest of those years are enough to negate the effect. (They hardly are.)
- Prone to ever increasing acts of violence if one were to wrong him, he's thrown papers, and toys, and glasses, and bottles as well as iron or jade trinkets after those that displease him, like a hurt toddler, even into the early stages of adulthood. Many of his advisors never tell anyone about their predicament with the foul-tempered youngling, though the variety of injuries they sometimes sport is enough to guess something might be wrong. Preciously few know that whatever it is that makes him be like this seem to be a combination of his mothers personality, as well as their very own catering to his every childish whim.
- Lacking a real father figure in his life, Mianti thinks of men as louts, as shallow rats with brains the size of a rice grain, disregarding that he himself is one of them, as he stands above them all, vowing to do better, while perhaps doing worse.
- Despite everything, he's well aware that his survival up to this point has been mere luck as well as an indicator that his servants do their jobs right, for the most part, even if he'd rather rid himself of quite a few of them this instant.

index.pngName: Lianyu Lei

Age: 25

Character: Lianyu has been born into a warrior family. His father served the former emperor dutifully until he, as well as the Emperor himself, grew old and sick. He didn't die yet, but he was sent away to live his last days in peace, while his son Lianyu stayed in the capital city and palace. He was trained to fight from an early age onwards, not only by his father, but also by renowned swordsmen across the realm. In theory Lianyu knows how to behave, how to shut up and stand in a corner waiting for something to happen and ignoring whatever the more intelligent people talk about, but he does not always act on it. If he doesn't speak his mind to the people he feels are wrong, he does so to his friends he trusts enough to not spread the knowledge across the whole city. Sometimes he tells his stories to those who listen though, getting the heroes of his tales in trouble for sure, but they earned it.
Overall this sounds more terrible than it is, Lianyu is a young man still exploring the world for himself and enjoying what he can. While being professional calm and sober on the job, that doesn't always ring true in his free time, when he is enjoying life much more. He doesn't have any high goals for the moment, his fathers footsteps always too big for him to fill, he just wants to live a comfortable life.

Trivia:
- Lianyu is an excellent fighter trained in the use of different kinds of swords and spears, despite not having the highest goal, he takes his training seriously even after all these years.
- His father also believed that it was to a fighters benefit to learn how to read, write and even do calligraphy
- He doesn't often leave the castle walls for he has a special someone to share his free time with within
- Lianyu has a calm demeanor, often he even seems like a loner, but the amount of contacts he has inside and outside of the castle walls would surprise most
- Aside from his training he is aware that knowledge is often times more important than strength, thus he keeps his eyes and ears everywhere and is informed about all the squabbles in the castle, sometimes petty drama, sometimes serious threat

Name: Haoze Chen, commonly called Haohao

Age: 24 years old

Personality: Popular with both the older and younger folk that flocks to the palace alike, the servant and gardener is one of illustrous stories, of impromptu poems, ever eager to please, and never able to really shut up. To him, the palace might as well be a stage, his limelight, that he's currently performing on and as an actor, he's to perform his role perfectly, every single time, without fail, though mistakes, too, are only human. When a young servant struggles, Haoze is often the one to pick up slack, to fix their posture, to ease out their mistakes before anyone notices - even if he claims he's a total slacker, not interested in fame and fortune, and often tends to take a midday nap in the gardens, that seems to be a mere rouse on his part, to make others let their guard down around his inquisitive, ever imploring nature that drives him to pick a desperate man down to his bone for an answer. Talking may be silver, but silence is gold, and while Haoze claims to have nothing to hide at all, his own baggage outside of the walls of the imperial palace seems more than he wants to fathom, not that he lets himself, or others, be bothered by his own shortsightedness. What a good thing it is that he doesn't mind being found out, either - he has nothing to hide, after all, and if his past were to turn people away from the otherwise sweet, doting, softhearted man he proclaims himself to be now, why, that's their loss. Sacrifices need to be made.

Trivia:
- Haoze was born in Nayana, the capital of the smallest tribe, and has lived the life of a servant ever since he could speak, much like the rest of his family. How and why he wound up as the tea servant and gardener of the imperial family in Quansan seems to be more of a mystery than anything.
- Easily excitable, ever-eager at all things, Haoze loves to learn about the different tribes outside the imperial city and knows many customs from there, as well as the differences in language, making him a top-pick for many formal banquets and other affairs, to appease the kings themselves or their tuttelage.
- While not having a lot of personal belongings, his favorite is a small jade necklace on red string, shaped in the form of a sun, something that he wears around his neck ever since he was a child and hardly ever takes off.
- Most of his combat knowledge is petty thievery, the use of anything as a weapon, a knife, and how to sharpen a blade; not that he needs it in his current life, or would ever care to reveal as much to anyone.
- Hardly ever out and about after hours; his heart has found its home within the confines of the imperial city's palace.