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[center][h2][u]Hanadyl Gwynt[/u][/h2][/center]
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[center][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/da74b45aaf82ab6dec5f85cadd0ec897/tumblr_oo5dougkyV1qfuntho1_1280.jpg[/img][/center]
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[b][u]Age:[/u] 34[/b]

[b][u]Gender:[/u] Male[/b] 

[b][u]Race:[/u] Dwarf[/b] 

[b][u]Job:[/u] Lookout[/b] 
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[b][u]Personality:[/u][/b] Hanadyl is a relentlessly cheerful soul. Optimistic, playful and curious, he will seize any opportunity for adventure. He doesn't have a malicious bone in his body, but he's not afraid to fight if he feels the need. Like most dwarves, he has a keen interest in the way things work, and in his case its particularly true of guns and rifles, so much so that he even went out his way to build his carbine by hand. That said, he's more than a little naive. Hanadyl will trust a stranger just because he thinks they look dependable on account of his young age, and thats lead to more than one bad situation. He is ferociously loyal, though, and won't do anything that he feels would endanger his friends. Hanadyl also has a relentless hunger.

[b][u]History:[/u][/b]
Hanadyl's childhood was spent in a no-name village in Laxen. An only child to a single mother, Hanadyl was made to work pretty much as soon as he was able to. Carting, farming, fishing, lugging goods back and forth... anything that would earn a couple of pennies or a loaf of bread just so he didn't starve.

Being raised on a coastal village meant they were more subject to raiders than most, which meant lots of repairs... and lots of weapons. Gathering up dropped pirate pistols and rifles was something of a hobby, and he'd practice with them until they ran out of shot, or until they were discovered and confiscated from the poor boy. He swiftly learned how to hide them, and then he learned how to shoot them until he could get a gnat's eye at a hundred paces. On top of that, when they stopped working, he would take them apart to see how they worked, using the skills he'd learned from repairing the village to avoid breaking them. Going into his teens, Hanadyl had a very active knowledge of how guns worked and how to take care of them.

Then, tragedy struck. During a raid like any other, Hanadyl and his mother were caught on the coast. The pirates chased them down, and murdered his mother with a sword. Hanadyl managed to escape and got back to the village in time to warn them. After searching his stash for a weapon, he slipped around the fighting and went straight for the ship. He stashed himself in the storage hold and waited for his revenge.

After the inevitable defeat, the raiders were sent back to their ship, licking their wounds. With the ship out at sea, their fate was sealed. Little by little, the hidden Hanadyl began to mess with them. Guns went missing or were taken apart, food improperly sealed where it didnt vanish altogether, ropes cut that really shouldn't be cut, and as paranoia grew, so did Hanadyl's confidence. The turning point came when he murdered one of the crewmen in cold blood - rammed a bayonet through his spine and battered the rear of his skull in with the butt of a rifle. When the body was discovered, the pirates, already paranoid, went in to a panic. Accusations were launched, the captain's authority supplanted and previously petty gripes evolved into full blown hatred and suspicion.
Understand, dear reader, that this was not a quick nor easy process, but one several months in the execution. Hanadyl was playing the long game. Instilling fear and panic among the Pirates was Hanadyl's prime objective and that's not done by rushing. No, no, no, to truly mix fear into a group, you never make one or two large moves all at once, but lots of little, subtle things over a long period of time. Then, when the niggling little doubts have been planted deep in the psyche of the enemy, perform one grand spectacle that cripples them with fear and paranoia. Then you watch as they do all your work for you.
The murder pretty much sounded a death knell for the pirates. Paranoia erupted into open fighting as different groups of friends accused other groups of being complicit in the last few months of fuckery. Someone killed the captain in an impulsive rush and from there, they werent going back. The deck was stained red with blood, and when the fighting died down, when there only a handful of wounded pirates left, Hanadyl revealed himself to finish off the rest.

A passing merchant ship was eventually flagged down and Hanadyl explained the situation to those onboard. Though initially suspicious of the bloodstained dwarf - why wouldn't you be? - they eventually agreed to take him back to dry land in exchange for him working the ship. It was on this ship he learned how to look after a boat and he worked his ass off. He learned at the school of hard knocks, so he did, and by the time they got to dry land he was as much as sailor as anyone else on the ship.

Rather than seek work on land, Hanadyl looked for another ship that would take on someone of his talents. The Great Aquarius is just the latest of series of ships he's worked on.

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[b][u]Weapons[/u][/b]
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[*] Marksman's Carbine - well suited to long ranges, while also light enough to swing about atop the crow's nest
[*] Butterfly Swords - Admittedly he bought them for the name, but he's saddled with the bloody things now so he might as well use them
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[b][u]Magic[/u][/b]
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[*] It's a subtle type of magic to be sure, but Hanadyl's ability to influence the wind and air around small areas has saved his life innumerable times. It's not a huge degree of control - he won't be whipping up whirlwinds anytime soon - but its enough to, say help him keep balance on a thin surface or keep a bullet on course or make a small air pocket for diving underwater in the rare case that its necessary
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[b][u]Other[/u][/b]: For some reason, Hanadyl just can't seem to grow a beard. He's also a lot thinner than most dwarves, so there's some speculation as to whether he's a "full" dwarf or not.
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Finished, I think