Groompy

Knights of The Dawn Covenant: The Longest Winter

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Knights of The Dawn Covenant: The Longest Winter

@Wraithblade6
Don't be surprised if your character has spontaneously turned into a Dwarf next time you come back (it's probably better off that way).

Knights of The Dawn Covenant: The Longest Winter

First post in IC! Hope you guys like my style of writing.

Knights of The Dawn Covenant: The Longest Winter

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Gavlan knew two things in life: one, that death was certain, and two, that he despised human cities. He did not mind Wood Elven cities, though, as most of them were built with the utmost respect for nature, which he appreciated. None of these narrow roads, however, were conducive to his brain, so used to the openness of the vast wilderness that lay outside the city walls, which stood high, looking down upon its residents with an unspoken promise of safety across the smooth, bricked surface.

"All of these GODDAMN UGLY houses look the same." Gavlan growled loudly enough to award him the dirty looks of passersby, which he shot right back at them ten fold. He was fed up. The map that his client had provided him to locate his address was about as useful as an elf at a belching competition. It was around evening and the streets were crammed and bustling with people from all over, but none were able to assist him in finding the house he sought, and those that did help lead him on false trails. Gavlan had been marching around aimlessly, now, and he found himself nauseated, and had to stop and lean against the nearest house, but not before being bumped into for the twentieth time that day. "You're lucky I'm a busy dwarf, or I'd come over there and explain to you why you should be more careful!!" He might have kept his cool a little better if the High Elf that had knocked into him with a smirk hadn't also made a snide comment on his height as he was doing so. The elf dissolved into the crowd, and Gavlan unfixed his fierce gaze from the matter. Leaning hopelessly on the house while still wondering what the penalty for, 'seriously maiming,' was, Gavlan heaved his worn satchel onto the cobbled street, and took out his flask. After a long swig, he gazed up into the pale blue sky. Nighttime was approaching and he knew if it did, he would never be able to find his client in the dark. "How big is this accursed city?" Gavlan pondered to himself. "At least the streets are starting to empty, now. Might be able to walk in peace. How do city dwellers stand it?" He stood up and swung his satchel over his back and trodded off, again. At this point, he would be happy enough if he found a place to rest his head, and his weary feet.

In the middle of a three way street, Gavlan saw just what he needed; the Sun was casting a perfect ray down onto a tavern called the, "The Devilish Gnome." It's vaulted roof on top of three stories, it stuck higher than the buildings around it, and the orange light from the sky shining down onto it almost gave it a holy appearance. He was unsure whether the building really was blessed, or that he was becoming delusional from walking all day. Deciding that this matter was unimportant, he quickly made his way inside. The music from a Dwarven bard in the corner, and the clinking of glasses were welcoming signs as Gavlan made his way through the wooden threshold. This being a human tavern, he was happy to see that there was a shorter end of the bar that he could sit comfortably in. "What'll it be, master Dwarf?" Came a deep voice from a wrinkly barman, as Gavlan hopped into an open seat.
"Four pints of your best."
"Ah, expecting company?"
"No."
"Oh..."
The barman gave a funny look, as he scurried off to fetch Gavlan's beer. "Haven't seen you in here, before." Came a smooth voice from Gavlan's side. Looking over, he was greeted by a dwarf with a long flowing amber beard, wearing a fine merchant suit. Obviously, a well to do Dwarf, a stark contrast from himself who was still clad in his worn set of armor, chips, dents, and scratches adorning it. "Aye, never been to Loringrad, before. Mess of streets, if you ask me." At this, the merchant chuckled.
"Can't blame you for getting lost here. Loringrad is marvelous city, though, albeit a little on the large size. But, it's the best place in the world to do business."
"Hah! Your type of business, I suppose. Meanwhile, I'm walking around for hours trying to locate my mouth breathing client. If I ever do find him, I'll be happy to let him know what I think of this lousy map he gave me."
Gavlan slammed the map onto the bar, making a few patrons look over in concern. The merchant peered down at the map, and, with a smile, he looked up, again. "I know this area very well. Let me give you hand here." Tracing along the paper, while black ink flowed from the tip of his finger, the merchant created a line from the tavern they were in to the house Gavlan was looking for. "Show off..." Gavlan thought to himself; he prided himself on the fact he had never needed magic in his life, believing that its convenience made people soft. It was too late to visit his client, but he was still incredibly thankful towards the merchant, and, to show his appreciation, bought another round of beers for himself and his new acquaintance.
"The name's Gavlan. I never got your name, by the way."
"Aberforth. I own a bookstore in the Market District. I also sell a lot of magical tomes, which has made me a wealthy Dwarf, indeed."
"Bah, I've no use for magic or books. The only thing a dwarf should ever put trust into is the blade at his side."
"Spoken like a true mountain Dwarf. I never lived in a mountain for long, but I do occasionally long for the grand halls of my birth home."
"And so you should! These Human cities make me feel ill. Nothing charming about them in the slightest."

After a lengthy discussion on Dwarven architecture, the simplicity and horrendous nature of Human architecture, and seventeen beers later, Gavlan decided it was time to retire for the night. He and Aberforth walked outside into the dimly lit streets.
"If you're ever close to the market district, make sure you visit me in my store."
"Well, I might, but I won't be buying, unless you've got a book with a giant spike on it." Aberforth gave him a raised brow, but then gave a hearty laugh. "I must be off, now. Thank you, for your company!" Gavlan watched as the merchant stumbled away in the direction of their home. "Barely made it to thirteen beers, and he's already tipsy? Living in a city does weird things to a Dwarf." Gavlan thought to himself as he returned to the bar. After paying everything he owed to the barman, and buying a room, he made his way up the stairs to the third floor. "My legs are aching, will be nice to finally take off this stinking armor."

Looking out the window of his room, the moon shone brightly in the sky. Glad that the annoying part of his job was over, and that he would be able to collect his money, tomorrow, he lay on top of the large bed.

"Tomorrow will be a breeze compared to today." He sighed to himself as he shut his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

Knights of The Dawn Covenant: The Longest Winter

Hey, guys. Zelosse showed me this thread and it looked like a ton of fun, so here's my character. It's not quite finished, yet, but I hope you decide to let me in on the action !

Knights of The Dawn Covenant: The Longest Winter

WORK IN PROGRESS

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Name: Gavlan Bitterstout
Age: 230 Years Old
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Rank: Templar

Personality:
The manners and charisma of a mountain dwarf, if he's not busy drinking himself silly or punching the guy in the seat next to him, he's probably either buried in the ground or busy putting something or someone else in the ground. Like most Dwarves, Gavlan is stout, and trustworthy, but incredibly stubborn. He'll hold onto a grudge longer than he can even remember why he had it in the first place. Not to say his memory is terrible, in fact, it's quite accurate, but if anyone lived a lifestyle like his, they would find they had a shit list a mile long. A stalwart battle companion, Gavlan is capable in almost any situation, except sea battle because he despises water. He is a dwarf of few words, if not well chosen ones; in his line of work, the less said the better. His solitary life is devoted to hunting down the fiercest creatures in Miras. He does not back down from any bounty or claim, and has maimed, burned, slashed, punched, hacked, smashed, and, on one occasion, bitten his way to glory. It's impossible to keep this Dwarf down.

Anyone that spends enough time with Gavlan will quickly note his deranged humor, and strange behaviors. Hunting in solitude for over a hundred years does that to a person.

Bio:
Gavlan was born high in the most northern mountains of Miras, as is such, he grew up in the harshest environments, which made him even more sturdy than most Dwarves; this would come in handy later in life for him as a bounty hunter. Although, he was the model Dwarf in the eyes of his mother and father, he was quite bored of their lifestyle. He did not share in his brother's or father's love of blacksmithing, or mining, but preferred to be outside the mountain, exploring the landscape. He would conquer mountains and hunt down beasts in the wild, all in solitude. As this was, he was not around in the halls of his mountain when tragedy struck; the merciless mountain trolls that inhabited the area had banded together for a surprise attack. Their sheer numbers wiped out his entire tribe and family. They had fought valiantly, but for ever dwarf there was another ten trolls. When Gavlan returned from his hunt, his home had been reduced to rubble, and the stench of blood filled the air. The extreme grief and pain he felt was only matched by his desire for revenge. Taking out his sharpened greatsword he roared with denial in the face of his fallen homeland, and, with ruthless conviction, he bathed the the destroyed halls of his heritage in the blood of its killers. He hunted down any last surviving troll, driven by an endless fury, repaying their cruelty in kind even their beastly nature could not match.

He was now truly alone. The only thing to accompany him in his long journeys was his grief, and the bitterness he felt at the world. He spent many long years as a rover, living off the land and living by the bottle. Any gold he acquired was quickly and predictably spent on spirits. It wasn't until he had finally hit the lowest point in his life that he was directed to the The Knights of the Dawn Covenant by a friend of his who was concerned about his stench and his dirty, matted hairy face. Although, his original reasoning for joining the covenant was purely based upon monetary gain, he learned to appreciate aspects of their values; specifically, how quickly they bring vengeance to their enemies. His interpretation of vengeance is a little more brutal than most hold, but most certainly effective. His preference to work alone is not adored by his superiors, but they cannot deny that he is an invaluable asset to the covenant. His experience with the covenant has spanned fifty years, despite his comrades constant assurances that his next mission would be the one to finally end his miserable old life. But time and again he would prove them wrong, and before the door would even so much as shut, he would be marching back out into the war driven world with a steely gaze, and his hands clenched around the familiar warmness of Naptime.

Weapons:
Throughout his years, Gavlan has used almost every weapon under the Sun, but none could match his love for his tried and true battle axe. He claims to have found it deep within the catacombs of a remote mountain, and that it's over a thousand years old; however, if you asked anyone else, they would tell you that he swindled it in a fixed bar bet. His name for his weapon is Naptime, although, most people he introduces it to take more than a long nap.

Naptime

Magic:
He's about as magical as a rock to the face. "Hey you! CATCH!"

Other:
- Scars on nearly every part of his body.
- Cares very little about his safety, but cares a lot about the job at hand.
- Would have been able to retire years ago, but still spends every gold piece he gets on liquor.
- Probably wouldn't have wanted to retire anyway.

Post Example:
Noting the obvious footprints left in the dirt, Gavlan heaved his satchel over his shoulder, and gazed off into the distance. "Can't have gone too far..." He whispered under his breath. Nothing now could prevent his prey's brutal incoming demise; once he had their scent, no obstacle could stop him. A hill giant had been terrorizing the local populous: stealing their livestock, crushing their crops, and, quite recently, destroying their town hall. If it had been a brighter giant, though none such exist, it would have kept to the small annoyances as to not evoke the wrath of the covenant. As it was, Gavlan was now on its trail. "Ah, yes." Gavlan noticed a large opening in the side of the mountain that would suitably fit a giant that the trail lead off to. Climbing up the steep rocks, making sure not to make any noise as he did so, he readied himself to surprise his foe.

Peering over the ledge, hidden from view by rocks, he saw his prey clear as the sweat dripping from his beard. It was sitting, sharpening what was once an entire tree in front of its cave, and humming to itself. Even while sitting, it still towered over any human, or elf, muscles making it look quite like the boulder it rested upon. Gavlan took a quick sip from his flask, and began to skirt along the edges of the flat piece of rock the giant called home. Through clever maneuvering, he was now directly above the giant, axe poised and ready to strike down his immense foe. Letting forth a mighty cry, Gavlan plunged off his perch. The giant immediately looked up, and immediately regretted it. If not for the giant's tough skull, Gavlan's axe would have tore its face vertically down the middle and continued onward. As it was, the axe was jammed into its face, handle sticking up into the air. The giant gave a cry of pain, echoing across the valley, as Gavlan landed near its feet. The giant swatted at the ground blindly, as blood rained from the gash in its face. Easily dodging every face crushing swing that the giant sent his way, Gavlan took out his hunting dagger, and jammed it with all his might into its calf. Buckling over in agony, the giant gave a wail pain, and was now bent on the ground trying to pull the axe of its blood soaked face. "Here, let me help you with that, ya' stupid brute." Gavlan shouted with battle rage running strong through his blood. Picking up a sizable rock off the ground, and with all his muscles flexing, he slammed the rock into the flat side of the head of the axe, breaking the giant's grasping hand, and shoving the blade mercilessly through its skull. With its last breath, the giant let out a long groan and collapsed on the ground in a bloody heap. Chuckling to himself, Gavlan took out his flask, again, and downed it entirely.

After excavating his axe from the giant's mangled head with a few choice swear words here and there, Gavlan reached his hand inside its mouth and yanked out a tooth as a show of proof. If not for inconvenience he would've taken its entire head along with him, but the journey was long, so a simple tooth would be good enough. His tunic drenched in blood, he doubted many would question the validity of his claim, anyway. Turning to face the view from the mountainside, he began his climb back down.

"There had better be an empty seat at that tavern."

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