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[b]Name:[/b] “Headhunter” Gilvan

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Age:[/b] 29

[b]Race:[/b] Human

[b]Element:[/b] Dark

[b]Dream:[/b] While the Promised Land is sure to be marvelous, its value, as far as Gilvan is concerned, is derived from the journey it requires, and the characters it enthralls. Nothing would please him more than to witness the tales of esoteric and gifted dreamers, and the glory of their story, whether it end in triumph or tragedy. To condense this fancy into a singular dream, Gilvan would perhaps admit that he would like nothing more than to travel alongside the greatest of their number. 

[b]Home:[/b] Zildartz is a plain enough island of stony tower and rigid structure - architecture so pragmatically passable it seems perfunctory. It is a meritocracy of scholars, warriors and governors who preach humble grace and efficacy in labor. Effectively under the thrall of the Zweite Junta, Zildartz aspirants seek to grift and innovate to deliver tribute with efficiency. The sole aspect of Zildartz culture that… indeed, appears to fulfill the more romanticized ideals of culture is the island’s appreciation and facility for athletics, various sports created and played with some ingenuity and finesse.

All is not, however, tiresome servitude and the odd athletic exhibition. There are those bleeding-hand working folk who chafe at the influence of the Zweite Junta. To that end, the ‘Grifters’ - underground organizations - serve to, ostensibly, ensure that the work of Zildartz laborers are not dispersed to those ‘above’ them. Some (it could be argued: most) of their number, however, are exploiters in their own right, who redirect goods unto themselves in disproportionate measure, and engage in unsavory acts such as slavery to fulfill their ends. As such, even the Grifters are splintered, with factions that joust with each other for ascendancy in the underworld. 

[b]Gimmicks:[/b] A masterful sports-player from Zildartz, Gilvan is an athlete who focuses on finesse: in particular, the lad’s feet are almost as if magical in and of themselves. Quick and sprightly, he was notable in his island for being able to kick at objects (most notably, of course, a ball) and cause them to move at logic-defying, curving trajectories, as well as frightening pace. Such has been incorporated into his combat style; he is adept at using his legs in martial combat, as well as striking objects to engage in ranged combat. 

“Blackballed” - Gilvan is able to conjure spheres of darkness to supplement his sports-inspired combat style - with a kick he can cause them to curve, ricochet, make sharp directional changes in the air, and all sorts of tricks of motion. 

[b]Personality:[/b] Headhunter Gilvan is a calm, self-assured sort, who - in his put-upon demeanor and tendency towards flowery verbiage - can’t help but come across as a little pretentious and haughty. There’s also the little matter of his unusual moral compass; good and evil are crapshoots to him, while agency and competency are paramount. Indeed, what matters to Gilvan is that things are done with full, uncorrupted intent and freedom, and that they be done well, if not necessarily with style (though he does so adore finesse and grace). 

As such, while perfectly affable, the ease and levelled nature in which he can glimpse and comment upon violence and similar evils can be somewhat disconcerting. Nonetheless, he is a supremely supportive fellow, who sees it as his mandate to push forth the stories of talented others. 

[b]Background:[/b] Gilvan is, distinctly, not a Zildartz native born. Indeed, where the rest of his compatriots tended towards darker skin more akin to olive, Gilvan’s countenance was pale - fitting for a man born in darkness, a child who spent his first moments in a crate aboard a rickety vessel. Taken by slaving Grifters and marketed as cattle, he found himself bound to the island of Zildartz, for numerous times was he passed over; the nobles hard-of-conceiving chose fairer infants, while unscrupulous crews cast a blind eye towards the slender, narrow-framed figure he would grow into. 

So, his captors decided he might as well be put to work - albeit, not very well. It was perhaps a blessing then, that in what spare-time he was afforded, that his prodigious talents in sport were noticed. Suddenly a slave with market value, he was purchased by a rather more benevolent (if not entirely so) faction of Grifters, made to leverage his talents to line the pockets of Zildartz bookies. In this role, he thrived, even repurposing his sporting ability into an uncanny sort of combat prowess. A crown jewel, he was promoted until he was given the position of ‘Headhunter’, whose responsibility was to scout for talents to recruit into Grifter ranks. 

It was his talent and influence, in fact, that he leveraged to sway his faction out of the slavery business - indeed, as ‘Headhunter’, he served to instead recruit the disenfranchised and mercurial with the promise of freedom, of a journey embarked upon, and of gains well-earned. 

In the present day, sadly, Gilvan’s faction has been more or less eradicated, a multitude of them imprisoned in various terrible places for various crimes of 'conspiracy', whatever that means. Cue Gilvan’s introduction. 

[b]Inventory:[/b] He’s got a lotta balls. ;]
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