Msrah Mi Mulugeta

knitting

Name: Msrah Mi Mulugeta 

Age: 38

Race: Galdor

Gender: Male

Occupation: Councillor, Member of the Bull Elephant Party

Bio: As a child, Msrah’s father would often take him to the many street bazaars that filled his city with rich smells from spice vendors, colours from fabrics hanging draped over the arms cloth merchants and the market alive with the cries and catcalling of so many people all vying for attention. To be seen. To be noticed. To entice and ensnare the waiting populace with deals to be made, both fair and unfair alike. It was quite common for Msrah’s father to wander far from the arata crowds of Nutmeg and Cinnamon Hill, into the seedier parts of the city. Fresh fish direct from the source in Carptown, bargains to be had in The Gripe and holding tight onto his father’s hand in The Liar’s market until such point when he was far too be old to go around clutching at Jara like some small child.

Take note of how the dura bargain, his father- ever the astute buyer- would instruct him. Those with less than we are always smarter with their coin. They have no other choice. In most things the arata were better; better mannered, better educated, blessed by Hul’aili’s hand and closer to that great God of Ocean and rivers but in the markets all men were equal. His father was keen to impart this wisdom, to foster both respect and mistrust within the world of the trade. He said loudly and he said often that it was not just about the hats a man carried in his coin purse. The greatest commodity a man could ever use to trade with was himself. The way he spoke, the way he held himself and kept a man- any man’s- gaze.

Msrah carried this idea with him through his school days where he found the social structure of Thul Amat to be somewhat similar to those markets he would go to with his father. Alive, so to speak, with the cries and catcalls of so many wanting to be noticed. And Msrah was noticed. A capable student, a popular child, handsome and good at sports. Since people liked him and he was in possession of an excellent speaking voice it seemed as if politics would naturally become the boy for him. Father encouraged this , naturally and had long been steering his only child towards his own favoured party. The Bull Elephants.

The Mulugeta Senior had long been a staunchly patriotic sort. In love with the land of his ancestors, in love with the city and its populace. He was as protective of it as he was his child, had come to view any such slights to Mugrobi safety or its future as personal ones. He, like many others, had been drawn to the party in the time of plague when pirates blew in from the sky on foreign winds and became quite involved in the financial backing of the party, gaining a lifelong friend in the party leader. Nepotism of this kind allowed for Msrah to slip as smoothly into the party as if he had been a fish, covered in slick, oily scales.

The ins and outs of the day to day political machine, paper working and bureaucracy, however, proved tiresome to Msrah. His place was with the people, he knew that. Certain even in these early days that if he could only run that he would win. The party told him to be patient, however, that there was a certain amount of lip service to be paid, an expectation that one would have to little by little climb the rungs and carve out a place for themselves in order to reach such a position. But Msrah had no intention of sitting in on meetings as another faceless member of staff.

But he played the game for as long as he could tolerate it. In this time he began, first in private and then somewhat publically to groom himself for a position of leadership. He went out into the neighbourhoods and talked to the dura, became active in his community and found himself a stunningly pretty wife named Chione. The kind that constituents loved, dutiful and quiet who would smile at his side and bear him lots of sons. In theory. 

Fuelled by whispers overseas, when the last election took place the Elephants knew that they stood to make real ground and finally, to Msrah’s mind, recognised that he was an excellent hand that ought to be played quickly and cleanly. Though they relegated him to some minor neighbourhood in the Gripe, Msrah’s victory was, in a word, glorious. Near enough a landslide in a neighbourhood where such voter turnout was unprecedented. That was the beauty of the Bull Elephant Party though. They got into people’s homes, into people’s heads. Told them that the very livelihoods they had carved out for themselves were under direct attack from outside forces, evil foreign threats. While the Pipefitters and The Crocus Party were content to witter on about policy that felt a million miles away to the common man, The Bull Elephant Party was all about urgency. Now was the time to be afraid, the time to act.

Now, now, now. 

Msrah was much the same, in people’s homes and their heads. He shook hands with dura beggars and smiled to widows, held little babies with grime crusted around their noses. The human vote is not to be sniffed at, as he and many of his contemporaries have told his party leaders time and time again. But time and time again it has fallen on deaf ears. As time passes on and the new election draws closer, Msrah grows increasingly frustrated with the old guard of the party-in his wildest ambitions envisioning a new Bull Elephant Party where the human vote becomes instrumental to gaining power. Where he’s firmly in the position of leadership.

But these mutterings are strictly private, naturally. Hidden behind a smiling exterior in much the same way that he and his wife still appear smiling at parties. Never mind the fact that they have not shared a bed for years and that their daughter, five years old remains an only child. 

Personality: At the age of thirty eight, Msrah has finely honed his public image to great effect. On the outside he is a warm, open individual who possesses both a deep love for his constituents and a fiery passion for the country that he was born in. The people know that Mugroba is his first love above all else and that each and every Mugrobi, be they imabli or dura or arata, is a priority to him. Little issues, big issues, they matter to him and he is willing to fight for them with his good lady wife standing at his side. 

Under the surface one finds something a little colder however, and much shrewder. Msrah understands that his strength will always lie, just as his father taught him in the wealth that has been afforded to his personality. Wars have been fought and won on less. One only has to look close to the Mugrobi boarders to see that war is happening all the time these days. Mugroba for Mugrobans is all well and good but what Msrah really wants is power and recognition. To be the man in the marketplace with the loudest voice and the showiest fabrics.

He will get it too. Of that there is little doubt. 

Goals: Right now, Msrah hopes for re-election and another strong victory to cement his role as one of the Bull Elephant’s rising stars to be taken as a serious threat by all the other parties together. After that, he wants to strengthen his position in the party with a view to one day becoming it’s leader.

Physical: Msrah is incredibly good looking. His dark skin has a pleasant mahogany tint and is unblemished, his teeth are white and straight. His body is maintained to an excellent physical standard and is intentionally bulkier than most of the galdori. A public image ploy to make himself seem more down to earth and stronger to many of his lower race voters- as if he could have gained his physique building homes alongside them while many of his political opponents grow slim and atrophied over their numbers and strange words. He prefers not to wear his yellow hair long, rather shaves it all very close to the head and his eyes are a very dark shade of turquoise, like the sea at night. 

He never dresses too opulently when he is on the campaign trail, smart and fashionable enough but he avoids excesses. Another ploy as he believes it makes him seem unconcerned with material appearances when in reality he is anything but. 

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