TitusCaecilius

Black Powder Arcana

Guilhartz becomes painfully aware that he has become not a token of interest but rather a splash of difference among the sepia-toned wilds that this place otherwise had been colored. He couldn't exactly understand half of what was being said during the conversation anyway. Try as he might, thick accents and the hushed whispers a language he couldn't call his native tongue was a bit overwhelming all the same. The Bavarian's eyes darted back and forth as he made futile attempts to focus in on what each person was saying but this speech was nothing like the British, nothing like those city folk on the coast. This was a different culture and, to him, a different world entirely.

The gunshot disrupts his focus and breaks him out of the cold sweat before it really became apparent he was consumed by his surroundings. People seem a bit more agitated than they appear to harbor authentic interest in the scene. Realizing he was likely not to be able to understand anything further beyond that she was looking for the sheriff and that he spoke some strange variation of what Guilhartz himself assumes to be an American form of Cockney, he moves to file out of the saloon with the rest.

Witnessing Clyde climb back up from his stumble made him feel pity if not a sense of elation like the townsfolk around him. Guilhartz broke away from the exodus instead to move around the periphery. Here, he would stop cold to get a lay of the land. All the voices around him begin once again to usher into a single cacophony. One thing managed to stand out above the rest and that would be Clyde's attempt to speak a language he had not yet become familiar with. It was now that he was able to see Uzume greeting the young deputy. A woman of the East? He had never seen such a thing back home.

One thing from this whole experience brings him a great deal of comfort. Upon hearing her speak to Clyde, he could hear that the samurai was speaking perhaps just awkwardly as he is sure he sounds to those around him. Until now, he'd been afraid to stand out far too much. If a deserter from Prussia were to speak, others would notice. Ulysses was a town different than the rest he had passed through before. People here are different. It now begins to settle on his mind, and while he stands watching the supplies be tossed about and filtered through, he only thinks of the rumbling at the core of his stomach urging him to eat.

Black Powder Arcana

A Familiar Front

"Schießen sie! Schießen!"

The words have rung out in Gercke's mind every night. With every trigger pulling back, with every pin piercing, with white-gray powder filling the air, he is brought back to Wörth where the man had watched so many of his brothers in arms collapse to the ground only to never pull themselves back up. The smell of copper and sulfur permeated the air. It would infest his nasal passages and expand into a consuming cloud that filled his lungs and made it hard to breathe. Nobody could see, at least he was sure he could not. Gercke's finger gently trembles as he motions to pull the trigger.

BANG!

A French soldier crashes through the hellscape's mist and falls lifeless ahead of him. The young Prussian conscript is stunned and horrified but one of his comrades shoves him to break his fixation. Only a moment later, hundreds of shots would erupt from an enemy formation beyond view and shred the defensive perimeter. The one who had just come to his rescue was quickly riddled with lead. The panic sets in, he cannot bring himself to his feet as the attackers move inward. The sounds of their boots echo throughout Gercke's mind and send him into a frenzy.

He begins to scream as he finds himself overwhelmed on all cognitive fronts and cannot manage to pull himself together. The Bavarian boy can only think of his own demise as the formation quickly advances on him. Their lumbering shadows project into the foggy battlefield only illuminated by the shots of his allied forces using hit and run tactics in the nearby trees. The French cannot stand up to this but hold their ground. As one spots Gercke through the haze, he breaks rank to pursue his enemy. The tip of the bayonette glints in the low light and he cannot bring himself but to obsess in a slowing moment of clarity but to focus on it and embrace the coming death. However, this is cut short by a popping sound overhead. Blazing shrapnel rains overtop the canopy and seeds each of the French and Gercke with vicious strips of metal before the scene finally fades to black.

Guilhartz is jolted awake into a cold sweat. His pupils dilated while his heart races, he poses a simple question that he suspects he already knows the answer to "will I be able to run far enough?"

Now on the other side of the world in a country where nobody knew his name but, for the most part, he could blend in rather well, he definitely considers himself better off than back home. There is a long pause while the man blankly stares at a small black scorpion shining in the light that peeks through the window. It meanders back and forth while drawing his gaze, but he never once truly registers the event as occurring. Within moments, the traveling deserter rubs his eyes and stands up.

It is not much here. This, 'land of the free, home of the brave,' was exactly that. He found himself spinning in circles with so many places to go and so many things that need to be done, but Guilhartz never had a skillset beyond his fondness for reading and his linguistic skills. Maybe someday he could change the world, but if he were to even take the first step on that journey, it would be prudent to come into some money. That could not be done renting himself out as indentured for a place to stay.

He would tie his hair up and struggle to view his reflection in the dusty, murky glass panes on the slightly leaning window frame and sigh. There were numerous issues with his appearance, in his opinion, but he was sure he would at least blend in with the rest of the settlers out here.

The door opens as he sidles his way out onto the walk above the saloon where he would look down to the patrons he had been residing alongside for the past couple days and then to his empty pockets. He would sigh, and feel a great unease at a few immodest women with no concerns for their dress. Some spoke to men nearby, and others would eye the Bavarian like he was a piece of exotic luxury that they had to get their hands on. This would shame him into lowering the brim of his cap as he walked past. A man must never indulge without reason.

Patrons weren't roaring between one another today like they usually had been. After descending into the saloon itself, Guilhartz would soon hear hushed words about the Jefferson massacre. The idea that this land is still just as brutal as the one he had fled horrifies him and he begins to reminisce about the escalating European conflicts... but not for too long. Within moments, the man was sitting alone in the furthest corner of the room so that he could keep an eye on all around him. It was a challenge for him to be able to read English but with its similarities to German, he manages to survive. Strange American words, however, consistently catch him off-guard. He is not familiar with the standards and customs of the saloon, much less any people in North America, so he surveys his pool of options until he can find something to his liking.

However, when a woman with the striking visage of a cardinal bursts through the doors, he watches.

Even more peculiar, a man who appeared quite beleaguered approaches her to gossip, he can read the room. The two draw more looks and interest than any of the other brown or gray coats in here. With one glance towards the piano adjacent to him, Guilhartz freezes for a moment then plays it safe. He rises from the corner and wanders his way towards the bar. However, with no money, he wouldn't be able to make an order. Even worse, he was aware that if no destination was found on his way up there that he would not be able to remain incognito. Regardless, he would move to the front of the establishment and endeavor to peer through the window into the street with the hope of learning something new in spite of his communicative shortcomings.

Black Powder Arcana

Guilhartz

Gercke "Guilhartz" Reinhardt

28

"I'm not afraid to admit ran. I ran from the gunpowder, the smoke. I ran from the sound of the crying Gaullic bull, and I ran from the cheering of Prussian men. Now I'm halfway across the world with a dream to change it all."

"Guilhartz"

--A fleeing conscript with ambitions to save the world.--

A Bavarian man with medium-length brown hair and soft, earthy eyes. His pale skin seldom gleans out from beneath his long duster and hat. Beneath those, he sports a white button-up partially concealed under his black waistcoat with thick, cotton trousers that would make any Texas day nearly unbearable. More often than not, his hair is tied up in a ponytail.

Background

A Nameless Hamlet

Gercke was born in a small village on the border of Bavaria in what feels to him like a lifetime ago to both of his parents. Soon thereafter, two younger brothers had followed. He had acquired a passion for literacy as early as he could, due to -- with a belief that language is the bridge we all share -- it being his ultimate dream to be able to put the conflicts of the past behind the warring Germanic nation-states that all wished to conquer one another. Gercke's father sought to made him a tradesman in their lumber mill, but as the French had sought to overtake their village in his youth, his father was conscripted and never returned back to their home. His mother elected to continue his studies in private. As the French had come with an imperial aspiration, they had vanished almost as quickly as they had arrived.

Soon, however, it would all come to a head. With Gercke being the eldest man of his home, he had to take care of his mother and his younger brothers by plying the trade his father had come to teach him. It was not long thereafter that his brothers had contracted fevers, to which all of the money he had been saving to finance his personal studies had been dedicated were now flushed for the village doctor's care. It proved fruitless, however, and as much as he had wished to preserve his family's legacy, they were soon to pass as rapidly as his funds. The entire angle became unsustainable. The family business that Gercke worked so hard to maintain could no longer feasibly support him and his mother. His assets were liquidated for the two to be able to maintain their home lives for as long as he could manage until he would be able to find another career.

Austro-Prussian War

The Kingdom of Bavaria had not sought to engulf themselves in the war that was soon to overtake their neighbors, however they were quickly pulled into the side of the burgeoning Austrian forces upon the king's death. Gercke had never seen the conflict firsthand for this entire war, however his closest experience was the advancing Austrian army marching through his homeland. This left a sizeable impression on the young man, and as he was struggling to find work to support him and his mother, a war had made it impossible to find any means of subsistence. The two were barely able to keep their home supported and had to cater to both the Austrian advance and then later the Prussian encroachment. Neither armies took respect to the locals and had vandalized their abode on numerous occasions. Gercke's mother had taken ill due to the stress.

Franco-Prussian War

With Austria conceding defeat to the Prussians, Bavaria was spared harsh criticism for their lack of a role in the war and was soon thereafter joined to the confederating Prussian alliance. It was here that Gercke was finally conscripted. Thrown into the raging conflict headlong, he was given a rifle and his uniform as he was forced to leave home to join the effort. Having to leave his home behind gave him great pause for he knew that if he had left his mother, he was likely to never see her again. The two barely had time to say their goodbyes before he was sent off to fight the French.

Battle after battle had saw to the Prussian victories wholesale, but Gercke's letters from home had soon stopped. He had begun to lose his nerve with mounting anxiety and the approach to Paris. The young Bavarian man was on the frontlines day after day, and men around him that he had grown to call his friends would be shot and sent home or he would never see their faces after they had hit the ground. His battalion had come to be his new family, and he was losing them, too. After numerous pushes into French territory, Gercke and his comrades were expected to loot, pillage, and raze at their leisure. This did not sit well with him, and watching the people he had grown accustomed to turn into monsters further broke his resolve.

It was not too long after that during the siege of a village, his unit was directly struck by a cavalry attack that scattered them into the wilderness. Here, Gercke was pursued by dragoons upon routing. Evading nearly every one by concealing himself in a hollowed tree trunk den, one of the horsemen had found him and almost ran him through with his sabre until BANG! The smoke had engulfed the small inlet and he scurried out of it before long to watch the man he had fired at choking to death slowly before him. The French soldier looked up at him with an unparalleled fear that shook the broken Gercke to his core. Realizing, though, that this was his only opportunity, he spooked the horse to charge into the wood and replaced the uniform he had been given and took the dragoon's -- ill-fitting and soiled with blood and mud -- to feign as a wounded man and headed up towards the coast.

He was barely able to secure himself by stowing away aboard a small boat filled with refugees to escape to England where he and his fellow riders dispersed into the countryside. Though he had received looks for deserting, none ever knew his true allegiance to the Prussian army. Here, he pragmatically sold the uniform and equipment he had poached back in France for a ticket to escape to the United States with the hopes that he could escape the awful conflicts engulfing Europe.

Only having just arrived on the frontier, Gercke has assumed the moniker "Guilhartz" and seeks nothing but a better future than the one he left behind in the Old World. However, his innocence cannot last forever.

Guilhartz is able to speak German, French, and English fluently. He is literate in both German and French.

Black Powder Arcana

Gercke "Guilhartz" Reinhardt

28

"I'm not afraid to admit ran. I ran from the gunpowder, the smoke. I ran from the sound of the crying Gaullic bull, and I ran from the cheering of Prussian men. Now I'm halfway across the world with a dream to change it all."

"Guilhartz"

--A fleeing conscript with ambitions to save the world.--

A Bavarian man with medium-length brown hair and soft, earthy eyes. His pale skin seldom gleans out from beneath his long duster and hat. Beneath those, he sports a white button-up partially concealed under his black waistcoat with thick, cotton trousers that would make any Texas day nearly unbearable. More often than not, his hair is tied up in a ponytail.

Background

A Nameless Hamlet

Gercke was born in a small village on the border of Bavaria in what feels to him like a lifetime ago to both of his parents. Soon thereafter, two younger brothers had followed. He had acquired a passion for literacy as early as he could, due to -- with a belief that language is the bridge we all share -- it being his ultimate dream to be able to put the conflicts of the past behind the warring Germanic nation-states that all wished to conquer one another. Gercke's father sought to made him a tradesman in their lumber mill, but as the French had sought to overtake their village in his youth, his father was conscripted and never returned back to their home. His mother elected to continue his studies in private. As the French had come with an imperial aspiration, they had vanished almost as quickly as they had arrived.

Soon, however, it would all come to a head. With Gercke being the eldest man of his home, he had to take care of his mother and his younger brothers by plying the trade his father had come to teach him. It was not long thereafter that his brothers had contracted fevers, to which all of the money he had been saving to finance his personal studies had been dedicated were now flushed for the village doctor's care. It proved fruitless, however, and as much as he had wished to preserve his family's legacy, they were soon to pass as rapidly as his funds. The entire angle became unsustainable. The family business that Gercke worked so hard to maintain could no longer feasibly support him and his mother. His assets were liquidated for the two to be able to maintain their home lives for as long as he could manage until he would be able to find another career.

Austro-Prussian War

The Kingdom of Bavaria had not sought to engulf themselves in the war that was soon to overtake their neighbors, however they were quickly pulled into the side of the burgeoning Austrian forces upon the king's death. Gercke had never seen the conflict firsthand for this entire war, however his closest experience was the advancing Austrian army marching through his homeland. This left a sizeable impression on the young man, and as he was struggling to find work to support him and his mother, a war had made it impossible to find any means of subsistence. The two were barely able to keep their home supported and had to cater to both the Austrian advance and then later the Prussian encroachment. Neither armies took respect to the locals and had vandalized their abode on numerous occasions. Gercke's mother had taken ill due to the stress.

Franco-Prussian War

With Austria conceding defeat to the Prussians, Bavaria was spared harsh criticism for their lack of a role in the war and was soon thereafter joined to the confederating Prussian alliance. It was here that Gercke was finally conscripted. Thrown into the raging conflict headlong, he was given a rifle and his uniform as he was forced to leave home to join the effort. Having to leave his home behind gave him great pause for he knew that if he had left his mother, he was likely to never see her again. The two barely had time to say their goodbyes before he was sent off to fight the French.

Battle after battle had saw to the Prussian victories wholesale, but Gercke's letters from home had soon stopped. He had begun to lose his nerve with mounting anxiety and the approach to Paris. The young Bavarian man was on the frontlines day after day, and men around him that he had grown to call his friends would be shot and sent home or he would never see their faces after they had hit the ground. His battalion had come to be his new family, and he was losing them, too. After numerous pushes into French territory, Gercke and his comrades were expected to loot, pillage, and raze at their leisure. This did not sit well with him, and watching the people he had grown accustomed to turn into monsters further broke his resolve.

It was not too long after that during the siege of a village, his unit was directly struck by a cavalry attack that scattered them into the wilderness. Here, Gercke was pursued by dragoons upon routing. Evading nearly every one by concealing himself in a hollowed tree trunk den, one of the horsemen had found him and almost ran him through with his sabre until BANG! The smoke had engulfed the small inlet and he scurried out of it before long to watch the man he had fired at choking to death slowly before him. The French soldier looked up at him with an unparalleled fear that shook the broken Gercke to his core. Realizing, though, that this was his only opportunity, he spooked the horse to charge into the wood and replaced the uniform he had been given and took the dragoon's -- ill-fitting and soiled with blood and mud -- to feign as a wounded man and headed up towards the coast.

He was barely able to secure himself by stowing away aboard a small boat filled with refugees to escape to England where he and his fellow riders dispersed into the countryside. Though he had received looks for deserting, none ever knew his true allegiance to the Prussian army. Here, he pragmatically sold the uniform and equipment he had poached back in France for a ticket to escape to the United States with the hopes that he could escape the awful conflicts engulfing Europe.

Only having just arrived on the frontier, Gercke has assumed the moniker "Guilhartz" and seeks nothing but a better future than the one he left behind in the Old World. However, his innocence cannot last forever.

Guilhartz is able to speak German, French, and English fluently. He is literate in both German and French.