There you go. Have a character.

[Hider=William Hewer]
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[b][h3]General Information[/h3][/b]

Name: William Hewer
Gender: Male
Race: Human, Fae-Touched
Age: 19

[b][h3]Appearance and Characteristics[/h3][/b]

[b]Physical Attributes:[/b] 
Tall and thinner than his father, William might have his broad shoulders and strength but he lacks a good deal of the man's bulk. Having managed to inherit the fair looks of his other side he's a more handsome fellow than many you might find, and if he wasn't quite so odd he might have done well with the local girls. A focused and somewhat joyless young man, it isn't often that a joke or jest can bring him a smile for more than a moment before he returns to the task at hand and lets it drop. He comes across as older than he is and between that and his demeanor he can be more than a little off-putting, his soft speech focused and direct. At the best of times he's hard to read and at worst he's downright stony, and ever since the death of his parents his eyes have been black as his hair, which hasn't exactly added to his appeal.

[b]Clothing:[/b]
While in the shop he dresses in cheap cottons that wash out the scent of blood and meat with thick leather aprons to keep it off him anyway. While out and about he does his best to be presentable in memory of a sartorial mother, but between his budget and his penchant for heavy, functional clothing it's rare to see him in anything other than a long collared coat. Not that he goes out much.

[b]Armor:[/b]
His coat is good for brambles and switches, but Lord knows it isn't about to stand up to a knife.

[b]Other:[/b]
William's eyes are black as pitch, a sign of the Lady Morana's favor.

[b][H3]Personality[/h3][/b]

[b]Personal Attributes:[/b]
William is a simple young man, which isn't to say stupid so much as single-minded. He attacks a problem at hand with ruthless and fearless logic, dogged until it is solved and unyielding in his determination. Not that many problems really require quite so much effort, which is just how he likes it--if all went according to plan it would be a good day as far as William is concerned. A practical and down to earth soul, he gets on better with those older than he than he does with the young bucks in town (or would, if they weren't quite so superstitious). Still, there's plenty of warmth to William that most never see. Soft spoken and polite, his sense of humor may be a bit lacking but his manners and hospitality are not. Generous and austere, he takes pride in a good day's work for its own sake and doesn't want for riches or baubles. A bit more company perhaps, but that's neither here nor there.

[b]Religious Affiliation:[/b]
William is a polite pragmatic, which means that he'll pray to whatever it is at a given time that he thinks he ought to. His mother taught him of the Forest God and the various little spirits that make up all things and his father reminded him always that God was watching, and between the two of them he mumbles his way through various little prayers here and there without ever really believing in any of it.

[b]Greatest Fears:[/b]
In truth, William fears very little. Once upon a time he might have feared for losing his family but that's already happened, so these days his fears are more mundane. Losing the shop, failing to carry on their legacy, failure to provide for Erika... it's the daily ins and outs that haunt William's dreams, not ghosts and monsters and wicked things that go bump in the night.

Or at least it was, until Erika went missing. Now he fears for her. 

[b]Likes:[/b]
William likes crafted things that people must have taken pride in making, and knows enough about a surprising number of trades to sort them from the chaff. He likes the little carved creatures that the carpenter makes and the delightfully heavy glass cups blown by the local workers. There are few things more important to a butcher than a good knife so metalwork holds a special place in his heart, and he's traded more than his fair share of meat for the excellent wrought-iron installations about the shop that keep it looking like a respectable place of business. In keeping with his earthbound character he has a fondness for warm fire, conversation, and food, and though he likes his ale he finds himself a sad drunk more often than not and thus keeps a tight leash on his consumption.
 
[b]Dislikes:[/b]
William dislikes mess and untidiness within his own holdings, though he doesn't mind it particularly in others. He has a deep loathing of gardening and the feeling of earth under his fingernails, and can frequently be seen picking at them to ensure they are up to standard. He dislikes his own mistakes as much as the next man, and goes to no small length to correct them, but if there's one thing William hates its dogs. They're not particularly fond of him--and the feeling is mutual--and after a nasty incident with Howard Bowman's hound a few years back he's done his level best to keep away from them.

[b][h3]History and Connections[/h3][/b]

[b]Background Elements: [/b]
The Hewers have been butchers in Gerbovec for...well, as long as anyone can remember, really. Passed from father to son religiously, Marcus Hewer was no different but for his charm and good fortune in capturing the attention of a minor noblewoman by the name of Lily Costanteu. In something of a scandal the pair were wed and shortly thereafter blessed with their young son, William. As far as anyone could tell he was as normal a boy as one could ask for, if a bit more polite and a bit less brassy than a good number of the local lads, and sure as salt his father raised him on meat and knives and good business sense. If his mother tried to interest him in more intellectual pursuits--reading, writing, arithmetic--it stuck only insofar as to give him a rounded enough education. His father's son in spite of his looks, he wanted nothing more than to grow up to be yet another butcher at Hewer & Son's. That Lily had the luck to give birth to a daughter some five years later saved her from a life entirely occupied by meat, and together the four of them were a happy little family as far as anyone could tell, which made the coming bad blood all the more a shame.

Just after his fourteenth birthday young William (then Will, a much brighter and more cheerful fellow) and his family were on their way to a festival in Bessenova when tragedy struck. The wagon they'd signed on with struck a bad rut in the path through the Jarlione Forest and its axle cracked clean through, depositing then-Will and the rest of the caravan in the midst of the woods as afternoon wound down. Though the children were young enough to play and enjoy themselves it wasn't long before the shadows grew longer and the slow haul of the cart threatened to stand the lot of them in the depths of the woods. Neither Marcus nor Benjamin the Cobbler, who'd chipped in on the wagon to haul his own wares, were willing to leave their stock and family in the hopes of making it out on foot, and so between the two of them and the old ox that strained against the yoke they pushed forward as best they could.

They didn't make it.

It was a few days later that the holy hunters found the wreckage of the wagon and the half-eaten corpse of Oren the Ox. Sitting beside the road were a trio of graves and now-William, who looked back to them with tear-streaked cheeks and eyes black as pitch and was nearly put down on the spot. Fortune stayed the quick hand of the Hunter Lucas Peverel, who would have struck the head from his shoulders to be safe, for Captain Lucre took pity on the poor boy and saw him safely back to Gerbovec where he could reunite with his poor sister. Erika had been ill with a fever the night her family had left and spared the horrors of the eve, and the pair were nearly shipped to the monastery as orphans until William steadfastly refused.

"There's been a Hewer & Son's for as long as there's been a Gerbovec," he insisted doggedly, "and there will be one until the day the taxes take it from me."

True to his word, William took up as head of the family and did his fair best, which turned out to be a good deal better than anyone expected. Pity and compassion for his poor sister saw them through those first tough years, but by his sixteenth birthday he was a fair shop-keep and damn fine butcher, and if Erika had to mind till now and then she was as good a sport about it as you could ask. He did his best for her as his father would have and paid through the nose for the education his mother would have wanted her to have. If he wasn't exactly a frolicking young lad it was clear enough why, and the whispers about what had happened in the forest and the rumors about him and his coal-black eyes died down after a year or two of fair dealing and hard labor.

Until, of course, his dear sister disappeared five years to the night of his parent's tragedy. Now the whispers have started up again, whether he hears them or not. William lost his parents long ago--he's not about to lose his sister too. 

[b]Secrets:[/b]
There was nothing normal about the wolves that attacked the night William's parents died. They didn't move like mortal beasts, leaping between shadows and speaking as one voice in mockery of their prey. Their glimmering eyes feared neither fire nor blade and they made their games last, chasing the poor folk down one by one and...

Well. Worse than just killing them.

That he hasn't spoken of the night since means that none but Captain Lucre know the truth of his tale, though whether or not the knight believes him is another matter entirely.

What William [i]doesn't[/i] know is that word of his sister's disappearance has revived the old whispers that it was no wolf that did the family in. Who butchered the butcher, eh? Not some pack of wolves, no, not a man like that. That was something [i]wicked[/i], right, something that chopped them all up and rode right back to live in his home. There's a plot against William among some of the more religious townsfolk who see his black eyes as a sign of the devil, and with this latest disappearance the Hunter Lucas Peverel has joined their number. He has no intention of making the same mistake Captain Lucre did five years ago, even if it means going against the Captain's orders.

[b]Goals:[/b] 
William wants nothing more or less than to bring Erika home safe and sound, and he's more than happy to get his hands dirty doing it if that's what it takes. Though he believes the wolves that killed his family to be simply another creature of the Darkness he can't imagine the two events being unrelated, and if it's going to take a sortie into the forest to get her back then so be it. He's already been on one or two looking, but without much training and without much expertise he's learning quite quickly that he's not going to make it very far. He'll need to find some help...

As far as my personal goals go, I'm always interested in characters who have to fight fire with fire and become what they hate in order to prevail. I'd be interested to see William struggle with embracing the darkness in order to save Erika, or perhaps to avenge her if she can't be saved.

[b]Connections:[/b] 
Belle Parsings, the wife of Arthur Parsings and the brains behind the delicious stews and rich pies at Gerbovec's local watering hole The Old Stable, has taken a fancy to the young black-haired boy ever since he popped around at a tender age and asked if she could teach him to make a pasty half as well as she could. She couldn't, but she could at least give him a more-than-fair trade for the meats he provided for her while the pair were recovering from their tragedy and pint'n'pie on the house for his efforts on the occasional long-day. While Arthur isn't quite so fond of the young Hewers he remembers Marcus well and turns a blind eye to the out-of-pocket in exchange for first dibs on Sunday's cuts.

Walter Crussel, who lost his own wife and son to a beast of the forest, has been more than sympathetic to the Hewer children since the accident. The town watchmen, the closest thing to a guard that Gebrovec maintains, unbeknownst to William has done more than a little advocacy on behalf of him to the rest of the town (who very nearly lynched him not long after he returned). Always happy to stop in for a chat and bring toys along for Erika, the aging watchman has helped ensure that no one has gotten fresh with the Hewers during the long nights and has once again started keeping watch on their house to ensure no rapscallions take matters into their own hands. That Erika disappeared on a night he was keeping to the rest of his rounds wounded him deeply, and he's tentatively willing to help the young man prepare for his journey to find her.

Howard and Margaret Bowman are a pair of God-fearing farmers well known in the area for their dairy and for Howard's massive hunting hounds. Having never much liked William after his return from the forest, his wary dislike turned to outright aggression when William took the eye of one of his dogs. It had latched onto the boy's arm at market (likely trying for a scrap of meat), and when it refused to let go William turned to one of his knives. That things stopped there was only in response to Walter's well-timed intervention and the extent of the injuries to his arm, which were deep enough to leave a scar that lasts to this day. The scar between the Bowman's and the Hewer's hasn't healed any better, and Howard and William maintain a heated dislike of one another. Margaret, though less outspoken about the matter than her husband, is one of the chief conspirators calling for blood in the wake of Erika's disappearance.

[b][h3]Skills, Magic, and Abilities[/h3][/b]

[b]Skills:[/b]
William is a reasonably skilled young man, having grown up around tradesmen and then needing to learn to keep up a house and home on his own. His mother's teachings have given him a passable understanding of the scholarly arts (mathematics, geography, letters and the like) and his attention to detail and craftsmanship have helped him acquire a decent understanding of a good number of trades, including blacksmithing and carpentry. First and foremost, however, he's a damn fine butcher who can disassemble most forms of creature with frankly alarming proficiency. It doesn't hurt that he's had to spend a good number of years lugging around heavy slabs of meat, which have kept him strong.

[b]Magic:[/b]
The only magic William has access to is the magic provided to him by the gifts of Lady Morana. Though he knows her only as the Lady in White, he has dreamed of her plenty of times since the fateful night he earned her favor by taking the pains amidst his grief to provide a proper burial to his family. In return, his midnight eyes can see the weaknesses in things, the softest parts. He can tell where a gate might be rusted or brittle or a knee weak and sore after a bad turn. Though it provides him no special ability to [i]act[/i] on the knowledge, it also has its uses in a scrap or a brawl--one man's weakness is another man's opportunity, after all...

[b]Weapon:[/b]
William has no special weapons aside from a dangerous and assorted smattering of knives. Loath though he is to turn to such tools in a fight he's certainly no stranger to them, and a cleaver and hook can be more than dangerous enough in the right hands. He also maintains a runic whetstone that makes sharpening them a breeze--a quick rasp over either side of a blade returns it to a razor's sharpness in the beat of a heart. 

[b]Combat Abilities:[/b]
William is not a proud fighter. Though he much prefers to avoid a fight and is fairly successful in doing so, if push came to shove he would acquit himself well enough. With no training but with good instincts and a fairly intimate understanding of how to use a knife on a body, William is a cautious foe who waits for a proper moment to strike and isn't above making a sacrifice to open up a lethal opportunity. That Lady Morana's gift allows him to see where a strike might do the most damage doesn't hurt his chances.

[b]Combat Weaknesses:[/b]
William may be fast and precise with his knives, and strong enough of arm outside of that, he's no soldier. With no formal training and only the barest experience in battle, anyone with a foundation of skill-at-arms would have a substantial leg up on him.
[/hider]