[B]Name:[/B] Warwick Blackbriar

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Age:[/B] 22

[B]Race:[/B] Man

[B]Appearance:[/B] Warwick is a man of strong physical stature brought about from a life of hard labour on the plains, and his fair complexion is tanned from a life largely spent out of doors. Standing at 5’09”, he is not remarkable in height, and he is slightly underweight due to a hard winter with lean provisions. His blue eyes look sunken and tired, but with a glint of curiosity and friendliness to be found as he takes in the world, and his sandy hair is kept shaved along the sides of his skull and kept in a long braid that falls between his shoulder blades. His body has numerous scars, mostly along his arms, largely from injuries sustained while working with the bison herds or spear fishing on the river. His face is considered comely, although it is dominated by a hooked nose that had clearly been broken and set some time ago, and a shortly trimmed beard that does not grow along a long scar along his right cheek. 

[B]History:[/B] A member of the Blackbriar family, Warwick was born in the plains and outside of the towns and villages that dot the landscape, and the only life he’s known has been tending to the family’s herd of bison for generations. As a boy, he quickly learned the family trade as a ranch hand and his earliest memories include helping birth and rear. The second oldest of 7 children, Warwick has long since been groomed to take responsibility for the family’s livelihood in case anything happens to the patriarch of the family, his father Dorian. Having built his own home, a simple stone and mud brick dwelling with a thatch roof, Warwick has been sustaining himself for years on his own while travelling the short distance to the family holdings to help with the herds daily. His mother, Maria, wishes for him to be married and to start a family within the year, and the regional gathering of the Summer Feast is where she aims to arrange his marriage. 

Normally among Warwick’s people, marriage is arranged when one turns 16, but the past 6 years have been impossible to leave the responsibility of the homestead behind for the biannual gathering. Between predators, disease, and raiders, none of the Blackbriar clan felt it safe to leave for the weeks required to journey to the town of Ralay, where dozens of regional families converge. The past two years in particular have felt even more desperate, with the bison acting more and more skittish about something unknown and refusing to cross the river to the North, where ample grazing lands lay against the border of the Northern Forest, an omen somehow even more unsettling than the increase in centaur raids upon the homestead in recent memory.

As the family prepares furs and meats from the harvested bison for the Summer Feast, Thon, the eldest Blackbriar son, has gone missing and Dorian has fallen ill to an unknown fever.  Fearing for their lives, Warwick grabbed his steed, Starla, and rode to Brackenhorst, both in search of a healer who could save his father and for leads of where his brother could have gone. Deep down, Warwick feels that the growing dread from the North Forest may hold the answers.

[B]Personality:[/B] A warm soul with a strong work ethic, Warwick knows hardship all too well and cherishes the simple things in life. Not a city person by any means, Warwick feels lost and uncomfortable in crowds, and he finds the somewhat oblivious nature of townsfolk to the wilderness somewhat baffling.  He’s a fierce fighter and is not afraid to put himself in harm’s way to protect loved ones and those under his watch, which is an explosive contrast to his more contemplative nature. 

[B]Skills:[/B] A skilled hunter and fighter with both spear and war club, Warwick has spent most of his life fending off predatory wildlife, his fellow men, and centaurs alike with great success. A spear fisherman, he is a strong swimmer and has incredible precision and reflexes with his weapon, as well as a high degree of patience and concentration compared to many other people. Warwick is very attuned to animals, and he is very adept at tracking as well as being able to judge an animal’s intentions and needs thanks to growing up and caring for a large herd and observing other wildlife. He is a survivor and is very hardy, capable of living off scarce resources and making the most of land that has few trees or stones, and no way of reaching the metals. 

[B]Possessions:[/B] A six foot hardwood spear with an iron head purchased from traders, a hand carved war club crafted some years before from lumber harvested from felled trees in the North Forest, a bone handled hunting knife, a vest of armour crafted from bones, bison leather clothing (pants, shirt, ankle high boots, fur overcoat), two water skins, a sleeping bag, coin, and his bison steed, Starla.

[B]Miscellaneous:[/B] He speaks with a heavy, but easily understood, accent that is very uncommon to hear outside of his region. 

[B]Relationships:[/B] WIP

[i]Thaddeus:[/i] He is a stranger who is shrouded in secrecy, making great claims of knowledge but never sharing what he claims to know, even though he asks us to follow him North, towards an unknowable peril. My partnership with him is entirely based on his willingness to go North, where I may find answers about my brother’s whereabouts. He is a kind man, but I don’t know if that is an act or his true self. Do I have any choice but to trust in this man? Staria seems to like him well enough, which is enough to ease my conscious for now.

[i]Gryffyth Wolfsblood:[/i] An elf, I had never thought I would have seen such a thing in all my years. I’ve heard stories, and whenever I ventured close to the North Forest, I always felt as if I were being watched, but it was never a malicious feeling. To see what they look like, it is strange, but I think I could understand them in time. Judging by his garb and belongings, he and his people live off the land, and with it. Maybe we aren’t so different from one another, although his temperament is rather excitable. I’m not sure what trials he’s faced, but they certainly don’t seem like they’ve slowed him down. So far, he’s a fine companion and his confidence is reassuring as we venture into the North. And what a magnificent creature he has tamed! I have fended off wolves before, but I could not imagine they would ever grow so large in the forest, and Staria needs to be reassured when Lwyci draws too close, but I feel Gryffyth has trained the wolf well. I hope one day he will find it in himself to tell us about his lands, his people around the fire. He is a window into a world I’ve only heard in stories.

[i]Tina So’Viari:[/i] What a strange woman, it’s clear she’s a child of the towns and not of the country, and she feels like she’s from a world as strange and foreign to me as that of the dwarves. She has an intuition towards people and the streets that I could only dream of, and she’s nimble in both feet and hand. She knows how to read, something I simply never learned, and she always seems to be working something out. She is very charming, I am almost embarrassed to admit to myself, especially since she is well-equipped for breaking into other people’s dwellings. I don’t think I can condone that, but at least she doesn’t seem to be the sort of person who wants to hurt anyone intentionally. She’s been genuinely kind to me, enthusiastic even, and the way she looks at Staria almost seems child-like in her wonder at the whole thing, perhaps I’ll teach her to ride if she is curious. I’m discovering these people don’t see bison very often and prefer horses. And they think me the strange one. 

[i]James Morter:[/i] By my people’s standards, James has lived a good long life, and he is quite brash and arrogant. There’s something to be said about confidence in one’s self, but I’m wondering how much is that is just blustering. He’s a hard man, I can tell he knows what it means to toil in a field, so I can trust him in so far that he knows what takes to do hard work, and a part of me thinks that maybe a part of him doesn’t feel alive unless he’s on some adventure or another. I’m not sure if I can make it past his temperament, but I feel his heart is in the right place. That will have to do.

[i]Peren Di-Jagal:[/i] I didn’t even know elves came in different races, and if it weren’t for his dagger ears, I’d mistake him for a man at a glance. He’s soft, someone used to luxury and prestige, caring mostly for coin and earning it without having to toil for it, or so it would seem. It’s clear he has a conflict of identity, not knowing whether to style himself an elf or a man, and there’s something about him that feels like he’s constantly second guessing himself. I don’t think he’s cut out for this kind of expedition, and I think he’s scared of Staria, which tells me enough about his world compared to my own. He’s polite enough and means well, but I worry for his safety and his willpower. What stakes does he have to risk his life? Did he lose someone, too? The cities raise strange folks, and if it weren’t for Gryffyth, I think I’d feel somewhat disappointed in my first encounter with their kind. He is not at all what I’d expected.

[i]Imirria Val’annis:[/i] Her name is quite a mouthful, I’m glad she goes by Miri. Another myth come to life, I never knew of a half-elf, or if such a thing were possible, but here she is. She’s quite comely with fair human features, and if it weren’t for the ears that I occasionally glimpse, I’d have no idea of her elven heritage, and I think she’s had a hard life finding a sense of belonging, she doesn’t seem to fully embrace either her elven or human heritage. Despite her withdrawn personality and untrusting eyes, she’s capable of rather fierce outbursts and seems very hesitant to let anyone see a softer side of her, whether such a thing exists, who  can say? She’s quick, and the way she handles those small blades makes me think of her like a viper, quick and deadly. A lesser man might wither under her gaze, but I do not intend to give her reason to loathe me. She’s an ally, she does not need to be a friend. She can handle herself, and that’s good enough for me.