GENERAL INFORMATION
Name:
Leifur Guðmundsson
Age:
Almost 100, but he's not counting. Appears around 30.
Gender:
Male
Race:
Viera
Origin:
Due to the nomadic nature of his people, Leifur isn't sure where exactly he was born, nor does he feel more at home in one place over another. He spent a sizeable portion of his life in Skael however, and would likely say he's from there if pressed.
COMBAT INFORMATION
Class:
Gunbreaker.
Weapon:
Eldgos, a long gunblade geared towards mid-range combat. It's capable of firing rounds as a rifle would, as well as cutting down enemies that manage to get too close. Not particularly sturdy, Leifur likes to keep his distance when able, only dipping into melee range for a moment, then triggering an explosion mid-slash to send himself backwards with the recoil.
Inventory:
➻ Potions [2] | Standard issue for any self-respecting Seed, ex or not. He used to have more, but a few were used recently to tend to injured civilians.
➻ Cockatrice claw [1] | A reward from the Garden for a past job well done, Leifur holds onto it for emergencies.
➻ Spare bullets | For Eldgos. Enough to last him a while; who knows when he's able to restock.
➻ Basic travel supplies | Contains rations, a tent, a waterskin, a sleeping bag, and so on. Though if it doesn't rain, he much prefers sleeping under the stars. Old habit.
➻ Assorted junk | Broken pieces of technology he's picked up along the way. He doesn't know what they do, or did when functional. He just likes to tinker with them.
Materia:
Speed plus | Needing to weave between melee and ranged combat requires speed, and though Leifur's long legs provide him with plenty, there's no such thing as going too fast. This materia helps him avoid attacks, be where he needs to, and catch enemies by surprise while at it.
Destruct | In lieu of - or in combination with - bullets, this materia allows Leifur to fire particularly heavy-hitting shots, or to imbue his slashes with destructive might. Particularly useful when faced with heavily armoured enemies, or those protected by barriers that regular shots have trouble piercing.
Limit Breaks:
The Hurrier I Go | Leifur moves fast enough to become a blur for a moment, quickly slashing a number of close by enemies, each hit triggering an explosion at point-blank range.
PERSONAL INFORMATION
Appearance Details:
Standing at 6'3'' without accounting for his ears, Leifur is tall even for a viera. Most of his height can be attributed to his long legs, and if one were to count the ears, they'd add another ten inches to his frame. The fur on his ears is short and rough, matching his hair in colour; jet black, though the latter also features red highlights. He typically wears his hair in a high ponytail to keep it from getting in his way.
Leifur is more muscular than many other viera men due to needing to survive on his own for so long, and can wield his weapon at ease even when in full armour. Granted, his armour isn't very heavy so as to not hinder his mobility or legwork.
He has often been told that his face isn't very expressive, and it is no exaggeration; you'd be hard pressed to try and read Leifur's mood from his face, which seems to be permanently stuck in a scowl. His voice is low, and he tends to mumble.
Personality:
Leifur is a man of few words, typically preferring to express himself through actions. A wise choice in most cases, as he tends to be blunt to a fault and often comes across as meaner than he intends to. Far be it from him to try and clear such misconceptions either. He knows well enough he'd just make matters worse, and it's hardly worth the trouble. He isn't that concerned with the opinions of others, anyhow.
Though it's difficult to believe, neither guilt, age nor years spent rigorously training and fighting have managed to rid Leifur of his natural curiosity. He will be the first one to scoff at any new piece of technology that's presented to him, but also the first one to listen in when such things are discussed, or to try and sneak a closer look when no one's looking. New things excite him, and to this day they drive him to wander. He's a surprisingly good listener even if everything about him might signal otherwise, and has an impressive memory - so be careful what secrets you might spill with Leifur as a witness. Not that he has anyone to tell them, mind.
To this day, Leifur feels guilt over the consequences of his reckless actions back home, but he's run too far and too long to turn around and check up on his tribe now, so tries to relieve his guilt in other ways instead. He's not the first one to jump into the fray to save another, but he is the one to do it if no one else seems willing, and he will accept no objections. He's not one to linger after his job has been done however. Leifur is a free spirit who feels no particular connection to any person or place, having joined the Garden more for the access to training and work than any sense of patriotism.
Biography:
Nothing of particular note happened during Leifur's first few decades of life - and that was precisely what started his downward spiral into vagabondry.
When young, he didn't think to mind the role assigned to him at birth. Like the rest of his tribe's men, he was content with following behind the women of their kin, only ever witnessing new lands once they'd already been deemed safe and hospitable for their stay. They were the second to face danger in the great unknown, the second to claim the spoils of unmarked territories, the second to everything. New discoveries only came in the form of tales told by the pioneers; the strongest and bravest of viera women, and that was fine.
Until it wasn't.
Leifur was always the curious sort, and as years dragged on, the lack of danger, excitement and discovery started to eat at him more and more each time news reached their half of the tribe - until, one day, the man could no longer bear it. Around twenty summers old, he was still young as a sprout by viera standards, and his recklessness was proof enough of that. With no real plan, he snuck away from his peers with the hopes of shadowing the women leading the expedition to new lands. He didn't manage to hide for long however, not from eyes and ears trained to spot hidden dangers. He was sent back to his peers with a scolding and told in no uncertain terms not to try such a thing again; his life could have been in danger, had the warriors shot before realizing who was tailing them.
But though Leifur had managed to see little of interest during his short stint as a wannabe scout, the exhilarating feeling he felt when sneaking about in forbidden territory stayed with him for a long while. So much so that he dreamt of doing it again, even if it was dangerous.
Then, one day, the tribe happened upon a sight that Leifur was told was common: a lone mystrel man, out and about fishing in a nearby river. He was no threat to the tribe nor the tribe to him, and so they let each other be for the most part. Leifur was fascinated by this strange new creature however, and the two soon ended up talking. Leifur was told that it was common for his kind to travel the world alone, and by the time the two parted ways as the tribe begun their trek anew, Leifur was smitten by the man's way of life. He wanted nothing more than to imitate it, but was told time and time again that viera were not meant to be alone.
Leifur left the tribe for the first time only a few months later. He didn't dare venture far, and he returned before sunrise, but the feeling of traversing a dark forest all alone, though scary at first, was enough to keep him awake for days on end. So he did it again. Each time he ventured further and further away, not towards the viera women who'd no doubt spot him, but towards the vast, expansive everything else. There were so many other directions to walk.
Then, one fateful night, he didn't return alone. He'd been followed. Worse, those that followed him meant his little tribe harm, and harm they inflicted indeed. To what extent, Leifur doesn't know. Like many others, he ran into the night and didn't look back. Ever since, he wandered the world alone, just as he'd wanted. It was more difficult than he'd ever imagined, but no less exciting. For the first time in his life, he felt free, if aimless and guilty for the way he'd earned such freedom.
Years later, jaded and penniless, Leifur ended up enrolling to the Garden. Backed by an instructor he'd saved during his travels and a made up backstory, there were nevertheless those suspicious of him and his intentions, and so tabs were kept on him at all times. He was trained in the ways of combat and espionage and became a sellsword, earning his coin by fighting whatever he was told to for years on end. He even took part in the war, even if he had no allegiances to either side. The things he saw - and did - there left him a changed man, however. Leifur always felt guilty for enjoying a freedom he got through a mistake that likely cost lives, and continuing to exist through the suffering of others felt altogether wrong. Not to mention the academy's attempts at limiting his freedom, always wanting to know where he was. So, once again, he left, becoming an independent bodyguard for hire instead.
Today, having long since graduated from the Garden, he only maintains a loose - and not always pleasant - connection to them. Every now and again he takes on a few particularly difficult missions for the good of the people, and for the past few years, most of them have had to do with keeping monsters at bay. Needless to say, he did not hesitate for long once he caught wind of Leonhart's plea, and neither did the Garden; they ushered him to travel to Edren posthaste.
Traits:
- Used to have overly sensitive ears, but due to being subjected to the noise of his gunblade for years on end, has learnt to tolerate loud sounds. High pitched ones still give him headaches, though.
- Is wary and distant (more so than usual) around other viera, but still addresses viera women politely out of habit. They're the only ones he extends this courtesy to.
- Should not be let near any sort of technology, as he has a habit of breaking whatever device he touches.
- Surprisingly fussy about his hair, and wishes he knew how to braid it - but is too embarrassed to learn, let alone have others see him do such a thing.
- Bad with money. Is probably in debt right now.
Relationships:
The Skógfæddur | Leifur's old tribe, whose whereabouts and status are unknown to him now. He likes to keep it that way; it means there's always a chance they managed to recuperate and prosper. The thought keeps the guilt at bay.
Tadej | A rival he met at the Garden, Tadej is a mystrel lacking both manners and caution, and the sole reason why Leifur's once undying respect for mystrel men has all but vanished. Their kind's freedom and bravery were wasted on this one, he reckons.
Isadora Sunsworn | Sollan weaponsmith responsible for Eldgos's maintenance, who treats the weapon as her baby. But then, that's what she does with just about any modern weapon. Leifur is exasperated by her boundless energy and annoyed by her insistence on the superiority of modern technology, but she's good at what she does, and he never leaves her workshop without learning at least something new.
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