Post by Gawain on Apr 26, 2015 14:47:21 GMT
GAWAIN
the zephyr
Name
Age Twenty-seven
Occupation Mercenary
PERSONALITY
Gawain the Zephyr is exactly how many people picture a mercenary – rough around the edges, fond of drink and women, and unlikely to settle in any one place for longer than he needs to. He laughs often and loudly, and is a bit of a braggart, but he has an odd kind of unrefined charm to him. Every now and then some mannerism or phrase will sneak out that hints at something more – something that suggests he was brought up around the refined graces of the grand palaces and halls, but any suspicion is quickly dashed with a bawdy joke or a hostile remark.
The man is a sword for hire – there is little he wouldn’t do for the right price. Espionage, murder, thievery, even poisoning for the right amount of gold slid into his palm. Everything has it’s price, and Gawain isn’t afraid to do someone else dirty work.
Even so, the man does have his own code. That isn’t to say he hasn’t done terrible things now and then – many ‘innocent’ people have died by his hand. It is not his place to ask ‘why’, but merely to carry out the deed. But even Gawain has his limits; he would never harm a child for any cost. Steal one away in the dead of night? Sure. But never cause physical harm. This steadfast rule confuses many of the mercenaries who know him, but most know better than to ask why. A man’s reasons are his own, as are his past.
He never stays in one place for long, tending to move from town to town as the whim strikes him. Some believe that is where his nickname ‘the Zephyr’ comes from. Others believe it’s his ability to kill his target and escape undetected – as impossible to catch as the wind.
Gawain lives in the now – why resist any earthly pleasure? He simply takes what he wants, when he wants it. He is not one to stand on ceremony or fumble with decorum. The man is very straightforward and will not mince words, and cannot stand those that do. He has never been shy about his true feelings – especially those concerning the unfeeling nobility. He’s happy enough to take their coin when they hire him, but other than that he has little to do with the fine graces of court.
He lives by one code: Watch out only for yourself, because no one else will.
HISTORY
Robyn Baines was born of a poor serving girl’s mistake with a highborn lord. The lord, of course, denied the woman’s claims of the boy’s parentage, and as such Robyn never knew his father, except through the tales his mother would tell him late at night as they watched their last candles burn to stubs.
Although his mother always did the best she could to raise him, most days they only just managed to get by. The other servants at the lord’s hall did what they could to help raise the boy – they’d sneak him warm bread, or let him play with the other children in the servants’ quarters while his mother worked. He was a bright boy, smart and crafty, and he was loved by many of the lowborn workers of the keep. He spent his early years listening to whispers and watching the nobility from the shadows, always trying to catch a glimpse of his father – waiting for some kind of recognition he believed would one day come.
It never did.
At the tender age of twelve, Robyn found himself an orphan. His mother had grown sick with a fever, and having no money for a doctor she never recovered. As his mother grew worse and worse and the cupboards grew barer and barer Robyn tried to find ways to make ends meet, but there was little he could do. He tried to beseech the lord to help the woman he had once loved – for he must have loved Robyn’s mother at one time, hadn’t he? – but the boy never made it passed the guards who turned him away with a stern warning.
The boy’s mother was buried in a simple, unmarked plot. The other servants who had known his mother and grown fond of the boy during his time at the lord’s manor tried to help as best they could, but they had their own families to feed and there was never much to spare. The boy’s belly was constantly empty, and hunger became a constant companion. Anger began to brew inside him – a hatred and distrust of the nobility that had willingly allowed these terrible circumstances to come to pass.
Robyn began to steal to get what he needed to survive. He also watched the knights and warriors closely – learning all he could. Eventually the young boy, now on the cusp of manhood, left the hovel he had called home without so much as a word to anybody. It would be the last time anyone would see Robyn Baines.
The bright young boy was gone, replaced by a man. A mercenary. Few people would recognize Gawain as the son of that serving woman. No one is quite sure what happened in those missing years – rumour has it that Robyn ran off and was taken in by the Stormcrows, a ruthless band of mercenaries: they say the boy changed his name and learned a new trade. A trade of dark allies and sharp swords. No one is completely certain who this man known as ‘the Zephyr’ is – a lethal killer to be sure, and not a man to cross – but nothing more than that can be ascertained.
Some of the lord’s servants still swear that Zephyr is really that happy little boy, but few believe them and Gawain is not likely to start telling his tale any