Daniel of Amber
Servant of Raziel
A man just a touch under average height, with coal-black hair and devil-green eyes, Daniel is a native of Amber itself, a man who has spent much of his life as a sailor in the royal navy. As such, he has a distinctly weathered look about him, from the tough callouses that cover his hands and feet to the scars that mark where he has been injured in the past, during the naval battles he fought in. One canine tooth is a replacement made of gold, gleaming whenever he talks or smiles.
He dresses in the livery of a castle servant, accented with Raziel’s colors of iron grey and charcoal black, although the fabric is fairly coarse and durable compared to most in such a position – something he has no desire to change. He always carries at least a pair of throwing blades as well as a dirk for hand to hand engagements, the former hidden in his sleeves while the latter is plainly visible on his belt. He knows his way around a sword, but hates to use all but the lightest blades, preferring speed and agility over brute force in combat.
Typically, he walks with something of a swagger, self-importance oozing off of his overinflated ego. He’s condescending to commoners in the town, and his mouth has gotten both Raziel and himself in trouble more than once; something he might eventually regret, should a time come when Raziel’s wits, ruthless edge, and swift blade aren’t enough to get them both back out.
Daniel hails from the dockside slums of the lower city, his mother just one of many dockside trollops and his father an anonymous sailor or soldier. His childhood was filled with troubles, from hunger and illness to the beatings he occasionally had to endure from his mother when she got into her cups.
As soon as he was old enough, he fled into the navy, finding sanctuary on the rolling deck of the royal fleet and a sense of pride in what he was doing. He was among those who fought against the invasion by Corwin, claiming several of the warriors on that fleet in single combat and nearly dying from his injuries in the process.
The process of recovery left him laid out ill for quite some time – a fact that left him bitter, contemplating his seemingly wasted life; he remained in the fleet, as no better prospect had revealed itself – until a few years ago, when a younger member of the royal family put in two years of service.
Daniel made himself useful to Raziel, and when the scion of Amber escaped from service at his first opportunity, Daniel followed him, managing to convince him that he could be a useful servant. He was a bit startled to be told that Melinda would be his superior, but after she repeatedly knocked him on his ass when he tried to intimidate her he’s become quite the obedient dog to her.
Daniel sees himself as superior than those who dwell in the City or work in the royal navy, and even tends to regard other servants in the Castle as being marginally inferior unless they directly serve someone of noble blood themselves. This pompous attitude does little to endear him to anyone, although it seems to amuse Melinda to a small degree and Raziel has thus far been willing to forgive the trouble it causes, based on the man’s relative usefulness.
Despite his attitude, Daniel is really only capable at what he does, which is following Melinda’s orders and serving as a gopher. He’s a man born to be a lackey, a follower through and through. The only thing lacking in his disposition is the fanatical loyalty of most such minions – even with Melinda watching him, if the situation gets overly desperate, he’ll turn tail and run like a beaten cur.
Daniel has very few hobbies – he whittles wood and soap, making passable sculptures of animals that he decorates his quarters with, and he knows a few jigs and bawdy sailing songs. He considers himself a connoisseur when it comes to alcoholic beverages, and there’s some small truth to the claim – if there’s something that’s been fermented, he’s likely drank or eaten it at some point in his life. If he had a more capable sense of taste and smell, he might even be able to make adequate recommendations, rather than rating things by how alcoholic they are.
The closest thing he has to a favored method of passing the time is to trade insults with Zwei.
He really is loyal to the royal family, and regards Raziel fondly. He’s just not loyal enough (foolish enough, in his own opinion) to sell his own life for the sake of people who can cheat death far more readily than someone of common blood like his. Raziel knows this trait well enough, and seems to count it in his favor – claiming that a man willing to survive at all costs is more useful than a loyal corpse.
Melinda, in turn, sees him as a useful tool; she recognizes the inherent follower nature in him, and keeps him under control with judicious use of both carrot and stick. The fact that she’s much more capable than he is in a brawl leaves him in awed and fearful respect.