Basic Info

Sinharat's Stats
Name: Sinharat (Sin, for short)
Exalted Name (Title): The Jackal King
Player: Dan H.
Caste: Night
Concept: Revolutionary leader
Political Affiliation: Self (Ideologically shares some views with the Silver Pact and many Lawgivers)
Anima: Jackal
Motivation: Make men masters of their own destinies

Weapon of Choice: Slashing sword
Armor of Choice: Chain Shirt
Fighting Style: Staccato, brutal, random

Background

Prelude

Sinharat was born into a family of slaves made to till the soils of the massive opium fields in Great Forks. He grew up knowing nothing but the life of a slave. He was observant enough to understand that, by comparison, his master treated him well. He saw many slaves, in different fields, being beaten, tormented, and killed. Sinharat did not have his freedom, but he and his parents, along with their captive companions, were fed regularly and given clothing and shelter, meager though it might have been. Sinharat, however, did not adapt to this lifestyle with the same complacent fashion that his parents and other relatives had. Most slave children only resented their status for a small time period, if ever. By the time Sinharat's generation had progressed past its adolescence, most of his peers had become productive, reasonably content individuals. Sinharat regularly refused his share of mete, preferring instead to experience every moment of his work, so that he may better contemplate the nature of his plight. Secretly, Sinharat began taking on more than his share of work. His mete-dulled companions scarcely noticed as Sinharat doubled his loads and his working speed. Gradually, Sinharat grew stronger, becoming an impressive physical specimen in spite of the limited rations and opportunities allowed him by his owners. It wasn't long before his mischief expanded in its scope. Sinharat began lifting money and food from the pockets and table of his master family, and he'd become quite an adept thief. He was caught only once, but he was able to convince his master that he was snooping about only for food, a crime far less severe than stealing money from the master, and one that the upper-class would expect of such a crass group of individuals. After some time, Sinharat had stolen enough money for his manumission. Sinharat had plans, however.

His mother, at this point an aging woman, was worth considerably less than he. Using his master's own money, he bought his mother's freedom, sending her off to the city with what remained of the stolen jade to begin a modest life for herself. He cared little to have his mother to watch over in the chaos that was soon to ensue.

The following night, Sinharat conversed with other slaves living in the same quarters as he. Sinharat rarely spoke, and though his demeanor was gruff, he had a remarkable talent to meld the minds and hearts of men with but words, whensoever he chose to wield them. Sinharat laid forth plans for a slave revolt to the men, who were at first hesitant (in Great Forks, slaves were treated comparatively well, and life became much, much worse for those caught in an escape attempt). His sharp wit and knack for debate, however, were able to win their loyalty with enough argument. The subsequent night, they would win their freedom.

The Exaltation

Until this night, Sinharat was another ambitious slave. He was not the first man with dreams of freedom, nor would he be the last. He was not even so much as the first man to organize slave revolt; many other before him, even among the same plantation, had tried fruitlessly to overcome their servitude. The separating difference, as those present on the night of the revolt would learn, was that Sinharat was a man destined for greatness. The later journal of Abaad-Kal, one of Sinharat's closest confidants and present followers, recounts the night in question.

It was a rainy night. Nice day. We'd been out in the fields all day, but it didn't start raining until the sun went down. We were waiting for the signal from Sinharat. He told us he'd drop a bundle of leaves and curse loud, real loud, so we knew it was no accident. Signal never came, though. We waited, sure, but it never came. Things didn't quite go according to plan. That night, it was tough to see. The masters decided it'd be safest to walk back as a group. This meant for a whole lot more armed men (the masters) and confused slaves (none of them were in on the plan), and Sinharat looked a bit concerned himself.

(More coming)