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 [Premade] Arthwys Louarn

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GhostSunShadow
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Posts : 32
Join date : 2012-07-22
Age : 28
Location : Nashville

PostSubject: [Premade] Arthwys Louarn   Mon Jul 23, 2012 4:04 am


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Name: Arthwys Eoghan Louarn

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Species: Druid

Allegiance to House: Unaffiliated, currently a fugitive looking for a house to follow…

Role to House: Tracker of the Wilds
(able of finding anyone hidden in woodlands, forests, marshlands, mountains and meadows)

Personality:
Behind the kind and sincere face of the druid, lies a treacherous individual whose very nature is to deceive, to elude and to obscure the lives of all unfortunate to cross his path. Arthwys has been known for being two-faced, always presenting himself as a humble servant while behind the mask twisted wheels turn around in wicked ways to leave his contractors puzzled and confused. He might be a sinister individual to encounter, yet his word is golden and promises are rarely broken but therein lies the secret to his obscure ways. Quick witty tongue able of baffling the cleverest of minds, Arthwys is gifted with verbal skills that mesmerize his audience. Like tasteless, scentless venom injected in their blood the druid has a way with words, twisting and turning every syllable into a treacherous pitfall, lies and tricks that leave both friend and family stunned. He’s eloquent, sophisticated and in a mysterious way charming towards the female population, while men are convinced of his reliability through modest flattery and exploitation of their pride and honor. Beside of his constant balancing in the thin line between truth and lie, Arthwys also has a good side to him. Like most of his kind, he’s in tune with nature, obedient to the Call of the Wilderness that restrains him from physical violence. Though often an instigator of conflict, Arthwys is a pacifist who doesn’t yield to violence, murder or rape unless absolutely unavoidable; even when fate pushes him towards the abyss he’ll wield non-lethal force to allow his escape…


Physical Description:
Arthwys is a charming yet mysterious man of a modest 5ft 11 and slender posture that indicated stamina and endurance over power and strength. His wild golden hair, waving like the tide rolling onto the Westeros coast, a subtle tanned complexion and gentle though be it questionable smile make for a memorable sight as the young Arthwys emerges from the woodlands. It’s an almost boyish, Adonis-like appeal that lends him his success with the ladies, yet the masked inking of his skin in tribal patterns instills the men of his abilities. There’s however an obvious trademark to his appearance: the amber colored eyes. These are the eyes that can mesmerize the soul, capture the minds and ensnare the senses of men and women alike. Through these amber eyes he’s lured many into traps, stalked fugitives through the green wastelands and hunted down those running from justice and punishment. Only in these eyes can one see the true colors of the druid and all the intentions he may mask from spectator’s eyes.

As a druid originated from the wilds, Arthwys has an entirely different style than those raised within city walls or even amidst the village lands. A thick flax coat with crow feathered inlay shrouds his presence as a wide hood is casted across his head and the thick moss green and brown fabric allows him to blend into the natural background of his playing grounds. Underneath the cloak goes a king’s mail brigandine crafted from the odd minerals only druids are rumored to find. The vest protects him from a vindictive client’s wrath, the cornered target’s desperate assault and an angered victim’s last stand, having been proven as a proper defensive measure against arrows, knives and occasionally the scorching bite of fire. It’s a subtle yet valuable piece of armor that’s been gifted by a satisfied lord, but it’s the talisman resting on his chest that’s the remarkable gem he holds dear. Black pearls strung together in a dense weave hangs around his neck as a large glass-like gem stands proudly in the center. It’s according to some rumors even the source of his powers, yet that’s never been proven…

But above all comes the most remarkable trait of the notorious Arthwys Eoghan Louarn is Holghrys. Holghrys is an Eleonora’s Falcon that Arthwys raised since the day he found the abandoned egg in an empty nest. Now this bird of prey stalks his master, circling proudly high above the clouds from which it gazes upon the world below. It shares his master’s amber eyes, seeing the realm below through a different angle, but sharp and untainted no matter how far the distance goes between eye and target. With a light feather chest, dark underwing coverts and talons sharper than a blacksmith’s sword, Holghrys obeys his master’s every command falling from the sky like a silent menace or flying across the meadows in search for their target. One should always mind the absence of this treacherous bird, for one might be surprised to find the edged claws digging in the soft membranes of your eyes as the bird swoops down from the heavens to his master’s aid. Others avoiding the druid’s trace should keep one eye on the clouds just in case the silent spy in the air won’t notice their flight…



Powers and Abilities:
Tracking Ability: able of finding anyone hidden in woodlands, forests, marshlands, mountains and meadows based on footprints, disturbances in nature and animal behavior…
Predators of the Sky: able of commanding falcons, crows, ravens, eagles, owls and vultures to come to his aid, either by scouting the surrounding lands or attacking unaware targets…
Crawling Stranglers: able of ensnaring people by commanding ivy, morning glory, Virginia creeper and other vine plants simply by placing his hand upon the earth and entrusting nature with the name…
Whispers of the Wild: like many druids Mother Nature speaks to him in a native language than only few are still able to understand. She shares with him secrets of people passing through, guiding him towards his destination…


Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strength:
Amongst his natural abilities as a druid, his greatest strength lies in his verbal talent to twist and turn every word into a venomous whisper that poisons the mind and mutes the senses. With forked tongue he speaks half truths and full lies, able of baffling the strongest of minds, silencing the most talkative of souls and even leaving the most determined of men confused and puzzled. He has an impressive way of talking his way out of the worst scenario’s, playing tricks and mind games upon all those spending too long in his company. He never breaks his promise though, but one needs to listen very closely to the way he make them to find the dark side of his pledge for words as the mightiest weapon in his arsenal…

Weakness:
Great discomfort and soul deprivation overcomes Arthwys whenever he finds himself stranded in the cities; there’s a shadow to a druid’s powers coming from his dependence upon nature itself to lend him the strength and power to function. When caught beyond his comfort zone, his abilities quickly fade like a flake of snow in the spring’s first light. Conjuring the support of Nature’s aid when trapped within walls of stone and steel, demands too much of his strength to continue for more than a single attempt; each calling upon their guidance will encumber him with the straining burden of fatigue. Mind though that one predator of the sky will always remain true to his master even without his control of their spirits, which is the ever loyal Holghrys.

Weapons and Armor of Choice:
Garment: thick flax coat with crow feathered inlay, serves like a shrouding cape with matching hood to mask his identity.
Armor: a king’s mail brigandine crafted from the odd druid minerals with a black pearled and glass gem talisman
Primary Weapon: Vinewood recurve bow with broadhead arrows and copper vanes fixed with falcon feathers…
Secondary Weapon: Valerian sickle blade with ivory handle, double edged and coated with viper venom…


Background History:
Arthwys Eoghan Louarn grew up as orphaned in the wilderness of Westeros, without any knowledge or understanding of his lineage, ancestors or heritage; forgotten and abandoned he was found in the dense undergrowth of an elder forest, the bronze tone of his skin etched with thin scars from the roses’ thorns. Just a mere toddler left forsaken in the wilds, a family of peasants took the boy in, fed him, clothed him and taught him the farmer’s way of life in servitude to their lord. He was given a name, puzzled together from three heroes of the Wilds who’d the family had only heard about in the drunken barter of the bard in the local inn. It became his own, turned into the little thing of precious value he had in this dreaded world that had given up on this bastard child. Never did he hear his true name, nor encountered the siblings he was denied to know, just a nameless child in a conflicted world. Raised as their own, Arthwys grew up working the fields, removing the festering weeds that befouled the lord’s crops though in a peculiar way the plants seemed to obey his silent commands. Ivy crawled away along the borders of fields, clover perishing under his fingers to withering leaves dried and brown, as Arthwys slowly became aware of the power that resonated through his veins. Just a simple child curious about his abilities, he started experimenting with his natural skill, first learning how to command the crawling stranglers who moved onto his request, rapidly growing towards those who’d wronged him, ensnaring them with flexible serpent like vines into a strangling grip. When this trinket in his arsenal was mastered, nature started speaking to him, sharing secrets that lay hidden beyond curious eyes and unraveling mysteries which lingered in the shadows cast by elder trees. Birds started gathering in his presence, vultures, crows, hawks and other birds alike flocking down at his feet and coming to his rescue whenever father dared to lay hands on him. The old man feared the boy he adopted, having seen what power lies in his reach and punishing him whenever he caught the sight of druid magic from the child…

At the age of nine, Arthwys rejected his oppressive adopted family, his father foremost for the abusive man would come drunk from the inn, his fists yearning to break the boy’s bones. When the dawn came and the drunken stumble of the man woke Arthwys by the bumping into wobbly table chairs and crashing of clay goblets onto the floor, the boy hopped out of the window, feet sinking deep in the pig’s mud underneath. Enraged by the sight of his child fleeing, the drunkard followed the boy in pursuit, desperately sprinting through the ferns and rubus bushes though the boy’s feet were too swift. Ivy was commanded to guard his path, Arthwys created a wide distance between himself and he who’d abused him for many years. He escaped into the wilds from which he came, returning to his home within the green shadows of elms and maples. He grew up there, getting stronger and more in tune with nature for now he realized the truth of his abilities; his identity unraveled by a bard’s song who chanted about the Druid’s kind, masters of the wild and servants of none. He recognized his own talents in that song, hearing the whispers of the earth confirm his idea’s, though guiding him towards an empty sparrow’s nest. A single spotted egg was settled in random gathered twigs and plucks of moss, forgotten and forsaken by its parents, just like Arthwys who tended to the speckled hatchling. Days went by that the young druid guarded the egg within the warmth of his cloak, keeping it safe from predators and fiends alike, until one autumn morning when the first crack appeared in the shell. For days he watched in expectation towards the freeing of the animal within; first a golden beak with blackened nose, then two bright amber eyes staring into the night until finally the magnificent coat of feathers as Holghrys spread his wings for the first time. In the months that followed chasing simple prey through the forests and meadows, the boy and bird grew fond of each other as they lived and hunted together…

As the years went by a new talent developed to Arthwys who mastered the ways of tongues; his words were like unbreakable riddles, able to charm, deceive and confuse those spending time in his presence. He grew fond of the verbal poison as he rendered it into his favored weapon as he started his life as Tracker of the Wilds. Nature spoke to him, lending their knowledge to the druid’s command that searched for those lost, fled and hidden in nature’s realm. Weither forests, meadows, marshlands or fields, none could escape the tracker’s cunning mind; following their steps through the wilderness, spotting the tiniest of disturbances in the fugitives’ wake. He came to enjoy these manhunts as summoning Holghrys to the skies, listening to Mother Earth’s whisper and vines swarming to his victims’ feet granted him a sense of pride and respect. He’d caught many fleeing from the law, slaves evading their masters and unfortunates searching for refuge within the wilds from judgment and punishment. Holghrys would sore through the skies, sharing his sight with his master as eyes scouted for their marks, but his services did not come cheap. To find those hidden beyond the tree lines would be a service of highest fee all except for one. The day his adoptive father became wanted for uncollected debt, was the only time Arthwys refused payment. Three days worth of hunt through the northern wastelands he toyed with the man who’d taken out his anger on an innocent child, arrows flying past the old man’s ears to taunt him, Holghrys swooping down to inflict a single deep cut before disappearing again into the clouds. He was avenging the injustice he was exposed to during his childhood, now every taken blow returned in tenfold when thorn vines lashed out like nature whips ripping apart the man’s face until he eventually collapsed from fatigue. With a sinister sparkle in those amber eyes Arthwys unleashed nature’s full vindication, strangling the man in the same weeds he so often tore from his fields. Poison ivy and Morning Glory crawled along his body, vines entangling his limbs as green branches squeezed the life out of him as Arthwys simply watched the last breath slip his lips. Now that his last trace of poor family history was erased, he’d start his life within the house willing to finance his services…
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