Pierre+Leroy+Block+A+2012

= Character Creation =

**Name: Pierre Leroy** = =

= = **Age: 30** = =

= = **Gender: Male** = =

= = **Occupation: A well-known Vintner (wine merchant), merchant, and a writer - (part-time).** = =

= = **Class: Third Class, bourgeoisie** = =

= = **Financial Situation: Rather successful and makes enough money support his family with proper food although he has recently lost a great sum of his money because one of the ships carrying his goods sunk in a storm.** = =

= = **Appearance: He is dressed simply and formally. His brown hair is combed and styled. He appears to be very calm, relaxed and knowledgeable.** = =

= = **Location: He lives in a town just outside Paris near Neuilly.** = =

= = **Habitual locations: He lives in a small house next to his shop / wine brewery, but he usually travels a lot due to his vocation.** = =

= = **Daily routine: Each morning he goes to his guild to visit his guild master to talk about pricing and other business factors. He then goes to his brewery to look after it and goes to the shop to open his business. At noon he visits the farmers who supply him grapes needed to make wines. Just before night falls, he visits aristocrats who are daily costumers of his and deliver the wine.** = =

= = **Personality/Quirks/Unique Personality Traits: Unlike his appearance, he is very rebellious, ambitious, and adventurous. Born in Corsica, he was mistreated and underestimated by others which caused him to become very independent. Also, being a friend and a pen pal of Napoleon Bonaparte, he was very artistic and smart.** = =

= = **Past/individual-family history: His parents were rather rich peasants in Corsica. Ever since he was young he was praised of being outstandingly brilliant. He went to Paris to study and met his wife there, and he has been living where he lives now ever since. He was well known for his wine making skills since he was very young and grew up to be a vintner.** = =

= = **Family: He has a beautiful wife who is 6 years younger than him and two children; a boy and a girl.** = =

= = **Social relations with your own and other classes : Aristocrats who have been visiting his shop for at least 3 years. He is very keen to earn their trust and favor. However, he doesn’t have a good opinion on nobles because except for few of them, they are not nice to him.** = =

= = **Religion: Christianity because it is needed to make his business successful.** = =

= = **Education: Very good education background. Graduated from university.** = =

= = **Languages you speak: French and German** = =

= = **Main privileges and/or hardships: Recently, a ship carrying his goods sunk and now he is in debt. Merchant is a risky job.** = = **Portrait:** = =

= =


 * Journal Entry #1 July 14 1789 **

In the early morning, I woke up with the sunrise. I had three bottles of champagne to deliver to Monsieur Dampierre. I traveled with my small wagon up the small road of my town. It stunk badly. I climbed up the hill to the castle of the Dampierre. Albert, the guard, greeted me as usual. I put the loaves of bread and the bottles of wine in a basket and escalated the long and royal stairs. It was elegantly decorated with red carpet, hunting trophies, and a chandelier. At the top of the castle I entered the Lord's room which was in the far room with the enormous wooden door. I peeked inside to find Monsieur Dampierre. He is one of my most loyal costumers who is exceptionally kind and generous. I always enjoys going there. However, when I got there, he didn't seem to look too happy, so I had a very little conversation, left the basket, and went downstairs. Just before I was out of the castle, I heard the maids of the castle gossiping about the storming and the fall of Bastille. I eavesdropped by the gate and heard about the death of Monsieur Dampierre's second son that took place in the uprising in Bastille. I had recently heard of rumors about the revolutionaries and the Tennis Court Oath, but I had never given it serious consideration. During the whole way back to my shop, I was thinking about what I've heard in the castle. When I arrived, almost noon, I encountered Leonardio Perisia who was over at my house fixing the broken windows on the second floor and my dining table. I had known his family for a long time and I would often hire him to fix my stuff. After he finished on his work, I brought him to my shop. I fetched a bottle of wine and a loaf of bread to share with him. We sat on the small table discussing about the latest inflation of bread, the consistent high taxes, and the bad weather we've recently have been getting this year. We also talked about the ship that sunk that I had ventured in and the rumors I heard in the castle of Monsieur Dampierre about the fall of Bastille. He also said that he had heard about the news while he was traveling to my house. Just as we began to talk about the whole idea of revolution, we heard a great uproar in the streets. Soon, the street outside of the shop was filled with a mob of people carrying all kinds of weapons (some even had a head of a man!). Before we could even comprehend the situation, Bastien Armand, an old friend of mine burst into the door of the shop. He was very messy. Within seconds, he settled in and told us the story of the storming of Bastille. He was a prison guard working there. Apparently, he had decided to support the mob and stole canons for them and helped them break into Bastille. He told us how the negotiation between the crowd, led by, Amaria Cahila, and the Governor soon turned into an intense fight. Within minutes, the crowd stormed inside the castle. He was especially specific on the death of the Governor De Launay, who was beaten up and stabbed repeatedly by the people. He also mentioned the Sans-culottes, who actively took a part in the battle. I was so overwhelmed by the story that I had hard time taking it in. By the end of the story, we had finished our third bottle of wine and the sun had began to fall. We parted our ways and I climbed up to my bedroom. I discussed the topics we talked about with my wife before going to sleep. She also was astonished. That night it was hard to fall asleep.

= = =**Journal Entry #2 January 21 1793**=

Today was the day of the execution of Citizen Capet, King Louis XVI. I woke up early and got prepared. My wife was already awake and was dressing by the time I was dressed up. While she prepared breakfast, I woke up my kids. After the hurried meal, we began our journey to Paris. After about an hour of walking, we reached the "Place de la Révolution". Already, there was a huge crowd of people waiting to watch the execution. It had been a fast four years. A lot of stuff had happened. One of the most dramatic event was undoubtedly, the failed escape of King Louis and Marie Antoinette and the rise of the Jacobins. Ever since the king and the queen of France has been captured, those radicals have been ruling France cruelly. Now, after the huge vote, they decided that the execution of King Louis is justified and reasonable. I don't quite know how I feel about this, but I decided to go watch the execution anyway. In the waves of the crowd, I met Leonardio Perisia. I was thrilled to see him after quite a long time. Just when we started talking, the execution began. King Louis was brought to the guillotine, arms tied around his back. King Louis surprisingly calm, laid on the scaffold and pronounced; // "I die innocent of all the crimes laid to my charge; I Pardon those who have occasioned my death; and I pray to God that the blood you are going to shed may never be visited on France." // The giant blade came from the top and with a displeasing sound, struck his head. However, the blade failed to go through the neck and instead went through the back of his head and his jaw. The merciless executor saw this and brutally jumped on the blade until the head fell. It was a horribly bloody sight. I was surprised that the crowd was going wild about this. Some even went up to the fallen king to soak their handkerchiefs in the blood of the tyrant. After the so-called-entertainment, I traveled by myself with Leonardio to his house to visit his family. There, I greeted his parents and thanked them for their and their son's services I received this year and presented them one of my most precious wine. Later, I was introduced to Leonardio's friend, Tristan Pasteur. He was a merchant too, so we discussed some issues with the latest pricing and the disaster in the sea, which destroyed my beloved ship. We also talked about the execution. Since he did not witness it, Leonardio and I informed him of the details. He seemed to agree with me that it was quite unnecessarily brutal. After about good three hours of talking and the good lunch Leonardio's parents provided, I went home with lots of things on my mind.

= = =**Journal Entry #3 October 6 1795**=

It began as just any other day. I woke up and began my usual routine. After I ate breakfast and cleaned myself, I came to my store. I quickly got ready for opening my business. Less than ten minutes, a young boy rushed into my entrance. I was alarmed. I approached swiftly with caution for potential dangers. However, he turned out to be the messenger boy. I had often hire him to run my errands. I asked him what he was doing at such an early hour. Then he informed me excitedly about the news. It was about the 13 Vendémiaire, the battle between the French Revolutionary troops and Royalist forces in the streets of Paris, and my friend Napoleon Bonaparte's successful strategy. Apparently, Napoleon, who supported the Republic, won the fight. The message boy, Ron, then presented me the letter written by Napoleon and quickly left. I ripped open the letter. In it, he thanked me for the wine I had sent him. He also talked about the battle between the Royalist forces. He wrote in detail of the battle. He was horribly outnumbered by about 6 to 1, but from the experience of being a former artillery officer, he was able to turn the tides around by the effective use of cannons. He then ordered a counterattack and won. I was relived to hear that he remained unscratched throughout the battle. After the battle, there were around three-hundred dead royalists laying on the ground. He had triumphed and was acknowledged as a national hero. He was even promoted. "Truly A Genius Indeed!!!" I exclaimed after I had finished the letter. I felt very proud of my friend and obligated to write a congratulation letter along with some gift and spread the word of the great achievement. But before I could, a costumer walked in. He was a young boy, named Tristan Petit as I've later learned. He looked gloomy and depressed. It worried me that a such a young boy whose clothes were all torn apart would come to my winery. I began to ask questions. He was apparently an actor. I was never a fan of theatre, so I didn't quite know what he was talking about, but I learned that he was just fired from his only job and his only hope had shattered. Even after realizing this, I was still excited about my friend's success, so I uncontrollably blabbered on and on about it. In my defense, I wanted to cheer him up. Even though he was oblivious to the event, I told him about it and soon, we were having a casual discourse. Time flew by. He was really an interesting person. Somehow we even ended up discussing about the revolution. It had happened all so fast. The National Assembly, the Tennis Court Oath, the execution of King Louis, the Jacobins... Then we came to a question: "Did our lives improve or not?" I knew that it was obviously not the case. The revolution seemed to be successful at first, but it escalated quickly into a Reign of Terror. During that time even our family had to live in fear. The inflation was constantly getting worse and the high taxes stayed the same if not higher. I was really curious to what Tristan might say. He also agreed that revolution didn't benefit our lives. We went to talk about this topic till sunset. By the time it was for him to leave, I offered one of my finest wine secretly cheaper as an act of sympathy and gratitude. As walked out the door, I prayed for his luck.