Gordura, the Marchese



True quality of Parquet, the Marchese Gordura is a man of delighted vices and the morals of a bag full of stabbed snakes. Gordura the son of Direito, it was she of all the quality that bowed the quickest to the comite Paquet but was instrumental in reformation, even the retention of the quality that followed the Vague Revolution. Direito a woman out of favour with her peers pampered her only son terribly and having produced one disdained thereafter any risk of another with the foresight that they would not then fight.

Gordura could have lived an indolent life, playing the caelum game and especially now with the balance and bustle over the throne, and indeed at times he does. But Gordura a man of colossal appetites, whilst possessed of many chosen flaws, does not count laziness or a lack of imagination amongst them. Unpleasant without the wit to entertain with it Gordura famously cares little for what others think of him, and in truth many are envious of not only his appetites but his capacity to indulge in them. Taller than most men by a head, Gordura is a figure of impressive girth if not jest, who proudly overflowing most chairs insists therefore on a divan. But grossly corpulent as he is the marchese confounds his mockers with a lightness on his toes that seems entirely unfair given his worship of the creamy cake. Indeed, he revels in it. Tales abound of his habit of needing at least seven meals daily and whether witnessing torture, upon the privy, or engaged upon an inventive session with the very best of his acrobatic drabs none of this interferes with his ardent appreciation of cake.

Hated by many, still Gordura is one of the three Promissories of Parquet, accepting and guarding the treasure of others and lending it to further patrons for a commendably reasonable fee. The promissory entered into however, whilst fair in practise, is renowned in its capacity to become less so should the terms be breached. Terms such as returning the amount loaned in a timely and listed fashion. Such is the promissory entered into that Gordura takes into account the patron’s family, and upon whom the debt and its sufferance will descend in the event of any unfortunate suicide. In fairness this is not forced, no one would claim Gordura cheats his patrons, nor that he ever arranged by cunning for them to default. Many however have, and suffer accordingly (and quite vilely) since the terms agreed to and witnessed can be alarming. But then, pay up, and all is well. The terms of restoration of such a loan are after all perfectly fair and anyone entering into such a promissory does so with their eyes pinned open. The eyes are often the first thing taken as a reminder in the event of tardiness. Not some lordly figure to never grace the citizenry, Gordura in his litter and with his many well attired drudge is a common site in even the worst of the Delves. There after all are the most desperate, and Gordura does so like the desperate. For they do the most desperate things, often to him, or for his amusement. For some to seek his favour as a promissory has been likened to staking one’s soul. Few in Parquet hold with any particular faith. Some more nonetheless might shrink from the devil. And for a yet greater number the devil incarnate to be the Marchese Gordura.

His salons are renowned for their depravity, his infrequent balls particular in their guests. Neither are noted for their taste. For Gordura it is quantity that has quality, and quantity he has. In size, in appetite, in lusts, and certainly in extravagance, there are few to match him but where another might treasure a single fine wine he would instead indulge in twelve of an inferior bottle. Unpleasant, yet artfully so, he is still of the quality and few even amongst his peers would insult him by not sending an invite to their ball. For Gordura, spoiled, is also prickly. Nor does he often call for another to fight his duels for him, as is his privilege amongst the quality. Some consider it unfair indeed that a man of such indolence, such appetites, is still able to use a pointed blade with his skill, a skill well-honed and expensively tutored that on a number of occasions has proven useful when called out by someone of name, or rank, and thus worth his condescension. Not a master of the blade by any means still the immense Gordura is notably quick. So much so that only a year ago he evaded an attack by an assassino upon him, in a teatro in the Grails. Many saw him duck down before they too even saw the killer amongst them, and almost as many took hold of the miscreant when Gorduro called out an enormous price for his apprehension. It is widely believed the assassino has yet to die.

Gordura has many children yet never having married has no clear heir. He scolds, despises, and coddles them outrageously as the whim takes him and a thoroughly rotten lot each lives on what he allows them, raising and breaking each depending on how their antics might amuse. Their most dangerous enemies one another then unlike their huge father the whole frightful brood are a sickly looking lot, nervy and vindictive. They would doubtless be more dangerous to Parquet if they were not so consumed with their dedication to pleasing their sire, whilst at the same time demeaning, even overseeing accidents upon one another. They are however inventive, having as one a cunning for cruelty that has developed by the need to surprise their siblings. The only time one, Sisi, simply stabbed little Pico their father was so disappointed at the crudity of the attempt that he used his influence to ensure that the wig had Sisi hung for the act. In deference to her station the rope was of pearls.

All his children profess a devotion to the deeps, for Gordura loves the cult. Indeed, of all the quality it is Gordura that is the most devoted to it. Others might dabble, or partake, or are rumoured to be in thrall, but it is Gordura that openly worships. Possessed of many sihr, accompanied by no less than three of the doll faced nereids, Gordura will openly descend to Port Mercy and set out upon the natural harbour to make offerings. What he likely engages in within his house in the Looms is only truly suspected by other aspirants to the cult. Truly it is difficult to determine if the stories that emerge are to do with his religion at all for they follow so much the theme as all else that tells of the terrible indulgences of the marchese.

As with so many whispered, gossiped and delightfully dwelled upon in Parquet there must surely have once been some faint, flowering daisy of redemption. If that were ever so however Gordura has assiduously sought them out and for his pleasure poisoned the ground about them. For the marchese delights in his reputation, encourages his depravity, cares nothing for his reputation if it should dare to intrude upon his infamy.

Other than perhaps that is for his love of kittens.

Only occasionally do such lovable scraps of fur ever survive to be given up by the sea. But often generously Gordura will purchase them the moment he hears of them. Gordura loves kitten; spatchcocked especially.