Post by Gawain on Aug 6, 2023 16:39:45 GMT -5
[attr="class","text"] [attr="class","header"]Gawain [break]Gwynbleidd ”Two wolves fight within you. Feed both.” [attr="class","header"]Appearance
Gwyn is a rather peculiar sight to behold, as he doesn’t stand much taller than the average fifteen year old. Where he stands out is in the color of his ashen hair, as well as his turquoise colored eyes, which are relatively unique in this world. Even among those of elven descent, this combination was rarely seen, though still something he is quite proud of as they combined the features of his parents. Being quite lean and muscular due to running around a lot and from practicing his various martial arts forms and his magic, one might not be able to tell that he is a very good eater. Easily working down amounts of food that would fill the average adult twice over, a rapid metabolism mixed with a very active lifestyle make for a very solid physical build. In terms of clothing, Gwyn tends to wear baggy clothing in different shades of black and grey with the occasional hint of white. Not really being all that into colored clothing, as well as massively disliking all kinds of restriction, he hates wearing anything that weighs him down or limits his mobility. As such, clothing that is in any way tight fitting is not for him, nor is overly flashy and colorful stuff as he’d rather go for a more ambiguous look. Desiring the feel of loose fitting shirts and baggy trousers with boots or soft loafers, preferring the latter of the two in any setting that does not involve wetlands and marshes. [attr="class","header"]Personality Gwyn is, as far as his upbringing would allow, a very insightful and worldly kid. Being quite studious, there were few things he enjoyed more than playing around outside and figuring out new and creative ways through which he could utilize his magic. According to his mentor, his magic was one of the more rare forms of mana utilization he had seen throughout his life, which may or may not have gone to his head a bit. On top of knowing himself fairly well, he is what one could consider to be an analytical genius, learning rapidly from his mistakes and actually adjusting inhumanly quickly through trial and error. Though not quite believing himself to be anything special, Gwyn knows very well that the limits of his own magic are quite a bit further up from most of the people he had surrounded him with up until this point in time. Though this eagerness to find his upper limits, mixed with his at times impish behavior and playful demeanor make him into a fairly positive and upbeat youth. That said however, when a fight is dawning upon him, the playful and impish exterior remains, though internally, Gwyn undergoes a complete makeover. Scoping out his opponent and getting a lay of the land throughout the fight, he will try to tempt his enemy into showing their hand. Tossing childish insults and remarks to get under the skin of his opponent are but one of the many ways in which he would go about this. Once he is fairly certain that his adversary has no more tricks up their sleeve and has made the extent of their powers mostly known to him, that is when he will pile on one attack after the other in a brutal onslaught. Pummeling the target until the urge to fight leaves their body, victory is the only thing on his mind, the only thing that matters. [attr="class","header"]History To make a long story short, Gwyn is a boy of elven descent that was born to parents of both elven and dwarven descent. Watered down to the point where it could barely be seen in terms of physique, living in a fishing settlement did not award them any sour looks or stink eyes. Growing up in the rural area far to the northeast of Clover in the boonies, he was always far too busy to do any actual work. Quite literally chasing rabbits and running with the wolves, and sometimes from said wolves, his focus was always on antics and trickery, often to the dismay of his parents, neighbors and everyone else involved. Playing tricks on fishermen, farmers and merchants alike, there was nothing quite like a good practical joke. As the years went on however, there came a time where the jokes would come to a screeching halt as a dense and unnatural fog came rolling over their settlement, filling his nostrils with the scent of iron. For it was on that day that the raiders came, murdering the men, the elderly and anyone else who put up a fight. Those that did not put up a fight were taken as slaves, among which were Gwyn and his mother. Not knowing what happened to his father as he was knocked unconscious shortly after their house was being ransacked, he would later come to find out that it was his own father who had done so, ensuring that the boy would remain alive and not get killed trying to fight back. And so, the boy was taken to the island archipelago of Skjaergard. Not understanding the language that was spoken there most of the time, the playful youth was put to work, having to do hard labor so as to prove himself worthy of the food he was being given by their new master. Going by the name Heigan, the man was quite the grouch, meaning every attempt at jokes was mercilessly beaten down. Several years went by as Gwyn and his mother worked long hours, tending to what little vegetation managed to grow in these arid lands, hauling dead bodies from brawls and feuds away from civilization and into the marshes, often at great risk. For these lands were nothing like the land of Clover, as it was in these marshes that the dead might rise again, and many creatures seeking to devour the living and the dead alike preyed on any that might venture to close. For all of the many dangers they managed to steer clear of, it was a sickness carried by one of the deceased that seeped into Gwyn’s mother and claimed her in the end. Perhaps if she hadn’t been worked to the bone, she might have survived. Perhaps if she still had the virility of youth. It hardly mattered now. Forced to either drag her out into the marshes himself or starve, Gwyn eventually made the hard decision and did what had to be done, believing his mother would not have wanted for him to starve in the wake of her death. By the time he became a teenager, Gwyn had been picked to serve his master by going with the raiders and heading back to his former homeland. Feeling no real connection to the place anymore since everyone he knew there had died, living among these ruffians was something he had gotten rather used to. Getting quite used to wielding the crude weapons they wielded, mostly small swords, daggers and one-handed axes, Gwyn had become quite the fierce combatant. Having been put up against drunken warriors for the sake of winning a bet for Heigan, and therefore securing some more food for himself, the boy had ended up hauling quite a few corpses into the marsh that had been felled by his own two hands. For this reason, it was believed to be a good call to bring him along on the next raid, even if it were for no reason other than to haul loot from the raided settlements and load it onto the boats. And truth be told, the man was right, as Gwyn had gotten quite used to fighting for food and following orders for a few more scraps. It was during this raid that everything changed for him, as the entire raiding party was felled by two magic knights from Clover. One of them, noticing that there was something different about Gwyn, decided that it would be better to leave him at an orphanage, believing that they might be able to make something out of him there. It was after all not that different to tell someone born on the continent from someone who had been born and raised on the archipelago. Once they had finished hearing him out on whatever it was that the boy might be able to share regarding the raids and the people he had come here with, they assumed it safe to drop him off. Unfortunately for him, adjusting to life in an orphanage in a country that knew very few hardships compared to Skjaergard proved difficult. Going to bed at set times, waking up at set times only to study and learn from books was not really something he could get behind, though he still did what was asked of him. Suffering from a rather serious case of PTSD, not a day went by where he did not imagine enemies in every dark corner. All of this eventually culminated in the boy escaping the orphanage through the top window and making his way into the nearby forest. With the forest being terrorized by minotaurs at the time, it did not take long before Gwyn once again ran into the knight that had saved him from raiders not that long ago. Going by the name Griswold, the black bull claimed that he had set up something special in a place further up north. This place, called the Aristeus basin, was a place that was far more magical than the rest of the country, and a whole lot more serene than the archipelago where he had spent many years prior to returning “home”. Left behind in an ancient elven settlement that now served as a base of operations for the black bull and a select few people who saw eye to eye with him on some level, Gwyn never got to meet any of them. For reasons unknown, Griswold had refused to show them to him and vice versa, believing that some of them might think it better for the boy to be taken back to the orphanage. Instead, Griswold spent the next two years looking after him instead. But rather than having him learn from books or working the field to earn food, he instead taught the boy how to properly wield a sword. And by that he did not mean like how the raiders had taught him, as their style of combat left quite a few things to be desired. Training with actual weapons from the start, it was not uncommon for him to get some nicks or scratches, though it was said that those would just serve as a reminder to do better in the future. And so they did. Learning to learn from his mistakes to a level he had never done before, which was truly something he could have benefitted from earlier in his life, it wasn’t all that long before the boy began manifesting his mana. Finding a similarity with Griswold in the origin of said mana, the man who was quite rough around the edges was starting to loosen up a bit. Coming clean about his intentions for the boy, Griswold made it clear that he had been planning on leaving the country for a very long time. More so, he had been planning on heading far, far away for a very long time now, but felt as though his presence was required. Believing that this boy might be able to one day function as a great stand-in if provided with the proper guidance, much of the training became a lot less punishing. Instead, he often made the time to discuss morals, the rules of man and the country they dwelled in, as well as the ideas of good and evil and the massive grey area separating the two. Once sufficient time had passed, Griswold accompanied Gwyn to a tower in the boonies for a special coming of age ritual. Receiving his grimoire, a great deal of eyes turned towards him as the one he received was a four leaf. As the commoners believed that those who were blessed with a four leaf clover were meant for greatness, it was as if Gwyn managed to cover a great distance that had taken Griswold years. After all, he had to struggle and work hard just to be recognized as he hadn’t been special from the start. But Gwyn seemed to have been special from the get-go, and very much so. As the two ventured back towards the basin, Griswold made it quite clear that their training had at this point reached their natural conclusion, and that tomorrow would be the day where he would allow Gwyn to carve his own path in this world. Believing that he would put all of his tests, training and debating to heart and make good decisions, the black bull left in the middle of the night. Entrusting several of his tools to the boy as he believed that they might further aid him, Gwyn never saw Griswold again after. Not being the kind to bind and attach to people, the time he had spent with the black bull was perhaps the best he had had in years. While he very much disagreed with a couple of cases Griswold made, he knew that he was still quite young, that he still had to experience a great deal of things on his own. With his new magic, the impish behavior and trickery he had about him even made a comeback, as the freedom provided by his air magic allowed him to be a kid again for the first time in many years. But now was the first time for him to truly be on his own and become his own person. To learn how his magic worked and to find his own place in the world, that was what he currently had on his plate, and very much looked forward to. [attr="class","header"]Magic
MAGIC DESCRIPTION: When in battle, the exact utilization of his magic comes in the same form as his current state of investigation. When still figuring out how best to fight his current adversary while at the same time scoping them out, he will focus around more supplementary kinds of magic to increase his maneuverability and agility, using the occasional provocative attack spell to further draw them out. Once he has seen enough, he will instead focus on narrowing the distance between himself and his query before laying down the hate in the form of an offensive onslaught aimed at whittling down any and all defenses before hammering his foe into the ground in a merciless display of violence. [attr="class","header"]OOC DISCORD NAME: Shaquille Oatmeal DID YOU READ THE RULES? Y FACE CLAIM: White hair blue eyes boy CHARACTER SLOT #: 1 | [break][break]
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TEMPLATE BY VANILLA
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