[hider=Gerhard Brandtson] [center] [img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjcyLjgyYWQ3MS5SMlZ5YUdGeVpDQjBhR1VnUjJGc1pRLCwuMA,,/trade-winds.regular.png[/img] [hr][hr] [img]http://i.imgur.com/JngmrMS.png[/img] [hr][hr] [color=a2d39c][b]Name:[/b][/color] Gerhard Brandtson [color=a2d39c][b]Gender:[/b][/color] Man [color=a2d39c][b]Age:[/b][/color] 48 [color=a2d39c][b]Race:[/b][/color] Human (Glamhoth) [hr][hr] [h3][color=a2d39c]Appearance:[/color][/h3] Broad-shouldered, well-muscled, and immense to boot, Gerhard is prime specimen of Glamhoth-folk. Indeed, the man stands no less than six and four tall, nearing two meters even. A grand amount of mass comes along with that of course. That physique is oft' clad in tunics green, atop which lie plates of armour, the medium variety, just enough for protection and just enough not to restrict his precise movements. At last, wrapped about is a traveling cloak, blue of shade, and rarely seen as more than a cape. Beyond that form of his lies a head set with the wrinkles of age, and those of joviality as well. Still, deep-caramel, almost hawk-like eyes compliment his similarly sun-stricken flesh. Below a thick bridged nose rests the full bristles of an unkempt mustache and beard, that ride upwards along his rigid jaw to reach that wild mane of lengthy greying locks. [h3][color=a2d39c]Personality:[/color][/h3] Perhaps in spite of the fairly serious look ever lingering upon Gerhard's visage, the very first of his traits one might come to see is that of the warm, welcoming nature he ever radiates, or the jolly Glamhoth-accented words that flow 'neath that mustache. A difficult man to anger and one of surprising tranquility. On top of which he is honest to a fault, finding it nearly impossible to hide anything through his very transparent feelings. The man can be seen as too soft for his line of work, for above all, he desires only peace. Gerhard is a very wizened, patient man with a great deal of interest on the theatrical, this is likely due to a great majority of his life spent as a 'circus strongman', which he can also thank his well-trained body to. There are very few people that irk the man through incompetence or immaturity, in fact this elder prefers to share in the naivety and innocence of those around him. Marked by his unyielding spirit, Gerhard is ever touting on about reaching perfection in some trait, this large man always forges onward his hardest to push himself beyond the limits of what makes a man a man, and thus encourages all those around him in the same manner. Whether they be underling, equal, superior, or enemy, Gerhard wishes to inspire those around himself that they may one day do the same for others. Some may say that he is too old to be the knight that he is, the man only laughs it off with a hearty smile. Though due to his age, Gerhard often finds himself acting fatherly, even to those of higher rank than he, occasionally landing him in hot water. Not to mention the mishaps through his rather straightforward attitude, indeed no doubt you would likely find him granting advice in form of old adages to his peers. Ultimately Gerhard's traits are of staunch manliness and perseverance, to see a better tomorrow and brighter future for all things. Deeply ingrained within the man is a love for life, whether they be beast or bird, man or monster. . . [hr][hr] [h3][color=a2d39c]History:[/color][/h3] Barbarians and wastrels, such are the Glamhoth through the lenses of other men. This, perhaps is not wholly false, for every stereotype has its basis. Once such clan of 'savages' hailed he, Vindmönnum; known in two parts for their tribalistic nature magics, and for their wroth upon all whom were born naught of the wind. Those ancient times are much immaterial to the Gerhard you may come to know today, there is a single notable occurrence that cast aside the man's fate as a brute. No further than his thirteenth name-day, Gerhard as a young lad partook in the process of manhood, along too with boys of the age. A simple rite that the Vindmönnum dealt in, and likely no aide to the public opinion of the Glamhoth people, to raid merchant caravans of the Lavas, to shed blood in the name of their old gods. Of course, those boys' understanding of the world at large was so meager, thinner than the clothes that adorned them. They hadn't even played with the vague idea that a knight commander rode alongside that group. Devastated they were, those whom survived or were otherwise spared by that knight in dark armour were merely added to the processions of war prisoners that shambled along in binds, for a time Gerhard would struggle, until the futility of which stuck him at the end of a sword. Come to know he would that knight, Ser Maleagant, a lord of Lavas' chapters. But that is a time far beyond what followed. As a young slave Gerhard toiled, menial labourings after menial labourings that would shatter the resolve of lesser men, something even then kept the boy trudging a path through the mire of hopelessness. Were it perhaps the bonds he forged among others as he over years? Some stupidity then perhaps, to nay see the forest for the trees? Or were it an inborn trait, to be as intransigent and immutable as the wind? In reality, it mattered not, the consistent changing of hands wearied even he, however, by age of twenty, Gerhard was purchased by a burgeoning Lavas 'entrepreneur' requiring strong stock. . . Gerhard had his first taste of freedom under spiraled tents, performing feats of Glamhoth strength before audiences that grew and grew until before long admidst his twenty-eight name day, the man was a Lavas sensation. Forgotten was much of his barbarous ancestry, forgiven was his enslavement, and proven to he was that even those born of the mud can rise to the clouds. When chance came, he would rise ever higher, even beyond the white cotton of the sky. The very same knight-commander sat in on one of many performances, remarkable to he was the man that ravenous child became. And so, upon that night, Gerhard, still technically a slave was exchanged for a sum of coin once more, and subsequently given true freedom. But the Glamhoth knew no else, and could only produce rage for Ser Maleagant, whom ripped him from the life he grew to love. A new opportunity presented itself however, and 'neath the commander, Gerhard became a squire. And nay long before he became Ser Brandt. . . Nary after, a veteran of the Dark Crusade. Gerhard the Gale was he, for momentous movements, valiant strength, and unshearing will. Something new, something dark deigns to rise, to call knights the world over to the fray once more.[/center] [hr][hr] [h1][color=a2d39c]Equipment:[/color][/h1] [list] [*] Navy-blue cloak/cape. [*] An oft sheathed estoc of length at the right hip. [*] Sacks strapped at the belt, water-skeins, rations, and so on. [*] Boiled leather armour from which a few plates of mail are strapped. [*] A particularly well-looked after mahogany hurdy-gurdy, for amidst the murk of death, music warms frigid souls. [/list] [hider=Example post] "Ohh. . . Dire news, dire, dire news." A dull, almost ancient voice echoes in slight through the masoned hall of its progenitor's office. Among parchments and letters, orders and commandments, an elder man in finery rests atop a raised glove, whilst the other nigh-crumples one such paper in a fist. Once again, those aged eyes dance through the inked words upon the simple sheet before letting out a mere scoff at the idea of all. Just so, continuous heavy footfalls reverberated throughout the chapter, drawing closer and closer still to the sequestered room. The man whom sat could feel the burdensome weight under each boot, no doubt even his knight-pupil could tell the grim nature of this late night summons. The office's wooded threshold opens with a mighty sigh, a few more steps inward reveals quite the large form, adorned in unpolished mail, whose smiling face is flanked by fallen bangs of wild hair. The man outstretches an arm and bows, his gesture of respect to the superior, along with it an accent wrapped, 'My lord.' "Come, come, skip the formalities Ser Brandt, this requires immediate attention." As the man seated speaks without mincing a word, a hand eagerly waves the compacted note, to which Gerhard takes in kind. Those ever calmed eyes of the Glamhoth light with worry the first in many years. His mouth moves slowly, and after agonizing moments, words flow free. "Dire tidings indeed, when are you to leave Ser Maleagant?" The elder responds only with a grin and short chuckle before speaking with certainty. "I am old Ser Brandt, we cannot all be so lucky as the Grand Magus who sent that very letter. Nay, I fear such an undertaking would be the death of me, and so you, you a knight grown shall take up the mantle of this realm in my stead. You think yourself humble Gerhard, were I just so, you would have long lead these knights." The younger of the two places a hand upon the back of his head, lost in thought for a moment before sending a few words back. "Oh ho ho, I could not Ser, you are no doubt the greatest of us, without such guidance Lavas would be as rubble." "You cannot know that!" Maleagant snaps in immediacy before continuing. Within those sunken eyes lies that which to relinquish all to the man before him "But what is certain, what we [i]do know[/i], is that Lavas, nay the realm [i]will[/i] indeed be as rubble if you do not take up this charge and meet with him, meet with Mulad Theon in mine place. Now go! Be as the wind like that of your namesake!" Alas. . . Gerhard would never see his mentor again. [/hider] [hr][hr] [center] [h1][color=a2d39c]Abilities:[/color][/h1] [b]Strongman's Physique:[/b] Gerhard's strength is, well, his strength! The man excels in physicality, and is extremely durable to boot thanks to the immense amount of time he spend perfectly sculpting his body. Just the same, he holds a large well of stamina to draw upon that outlasts even chance demonic horrors. Beyond which just as his name implies, the man can be as swift as a gust, and just as unwavering. [b]Son of the Wind:[/b] Born of the Glamohoth clan, Vindmönnum for which he spent his formative years, the man holds at the very least a minor grip of magical tricks themed by the air. Minor indeed mind you, for his life took another route before any could be mastered. As a circus performer, Gerhard used such to leap or glide shortly as if carried by a breeze, feats that no-doubt wowed audiences. As a knight, the man earned his epitaph through pushing himself forward in thrusts by gale-force, allowing for speed and precision. Perhaps he can bolster the ability further were he to set his mind upon it. [/center] [/hider]