- Name: Gillian Reynaud
- Age: 22
- Gender: Male
- Race: Human
- Appearance:
- Personality: Gillian values honesty, simplicity and trust. All of which he feels are impossible to find in any sufficiently large group of people. A loner by necessity and by nature, he prefers not to speak too much, especially on matters of nobility. He can be very defensive when dealing with intimate issues (or those dealing with his condition), and as such avoids them as much as possible except with those he considers close friends. What few friends he keeps are treated to a watchfulness most attack dogs would envy and the occasional stroke of melancholic humor when he’s in his more ‘peppy’ moments.
He is a loyal knight to his core, and believes in the mission of the Iron Rose Knights with a fervor approaching fanaticism. However, he openly dislikes the glamour in which they operate. The opulent ceremonies and the relic of a tradition for choosing their captains put more at risk than it was worth. A shiny set of armor and a parade with a beautiful young girl might make the population feel better, but it won’t help the village razed by orcs while the knights sat polishing their boots and wallowing in the nostalgia of their roots. As such he can seem a bit of a hard liner when it comes to dealing with enemies of Thaln and is not known for his patience (or mercy). His tolerance for magic users is especially low, distrusting them intensely, even those trained in the Mage College. - Brief Backstory: Gillian was born in the township of La Reine, located on the Velt-Thaln boarder just off a rarely traveled caravan trail. The only truly notable thing about it was the local superstition that a powerful witch resided in the local woods, His parents were both local hunters, trading much needed food and pelts to travelers and locals during the winter months. It was a quiet place to grow up, much of the day spent hunting or practicing with the town militia (which consisted of little more than a few men armed with make shift spears). For the first fourteen years of his life, Gillian faced few hurtles aside from the normal trials of a rural hunter and the occasional disorganized Orc warband attempting a raid.
In the fall of his fifteenth year, a small caravan accompanied by a squad of Iron Rose Knights rolled into town. Their commanding officer, Seigward Parnella, was investigating reports that the local orc bands had gone utterly quiet. The people of La Reine, Gillian included, were eager to believe the Orcs had simply vanished, removing the one few dark marks against their sequestered home. Parnella was less naïvely optimistic, ordering his squad to occupy the town. Parnella’s suspicions held true and within the week the town was under siege by an impressive warband, seemingly brought together by an ambitious and skilled young Orc. The Knights, even while bolstered by the town militia, could barely hold back the attack. Being young and untrained, Gillian broke rank quickly, fleeing into the forest, seeking sanctuary in an abandoned shack deep in the heart of the forest. He soon discovered that he was followed by an orc on boarback, who hunted the boy seemingly for the pure sport of it, side swiping his prey and letting his boards tusk slowly gore the young man. After many wild helpless wings, he eventually managed to land a blow on the rider’s saddle, sending the orc tumbling over the side of his awkward to the merciless hooves that awaited him below. As the Orc lay dead or dying, the cripple Gillian limped onward to the shack, still intent on hiding until the attack subsided.
Just when the shack was a blurry dot on the horizon and he could feel to his wounds edging him ever closer to death, an odd woman stepped from behind a tree branch, offering to save his life in exchange for a favor to be called on at a later date. In no condition to question her motives nor caring too deeply about them at the moment, he accepted hastily. He only had time to watch as the woman called over a lumbering antlered figure, which loomed over him for a moment before unconciounsness took him. He awoke among the smoldering remains of his village, his arm replaced with some eldritch approximation of magically grafted flesh and bone and the orc band seemingly repelled. The victory was not without cost and much of the village, Gillian's family included, lay dead at its heart. What few were left turned on him quickly, blaming the ‘demon child’ for the attack.
Parnella and the remaining knights quickly took charge of the situation, claiming the boy as his squire (for his safety and the safety of the villagers if their suspicions proved true). The village was soon abandoned, the remaining villagers heading north to Velt and the knights and their new ward lingered a while, hoping to find the wayward caster and undo the bargain. Though their search yeilded no witch, it gave time for the squadrons resident caster to determine the nature of the arm. A construct, forged by a demon (through some obscured or lost article of magical craft) summoned or accompanying the witch. Parnella eventually convinced the boy to move on, after nearly a week of scouring the forest for the woman, but allowed him to remain with the squadron while he searched for answers on the road. For a while he was a squire in name only, Parnella initially only intending on keeping the boy around until Gillian could be freed of the bizarre addition. However as the months began to stretch, the elder knight found himself occupying the boys time with training more and more, if only to shield him from the reality that his situation might be permanent. At the very least, this way the aging knight could provide him with a chance to do some real good. On the dawn of his eighteenth year, Parnella asked Gillian to formally join the order, to which he agreed. Soon though Parnella’s age began to show and he could no longer handle the physical demands of Knighthood and was forced to retire to Thaln’s capital and disband his squad. Gillian attempted to stay with his mentor, but quickly found himself chaffing under the obligations expected of a knight in polite society as well as the hesitation of some of his commanding officers who knew of his condition. Deciding he was not welcome, nor wished to stay, in the capital he has since adopted a more mercenary method of performing his knightly duties, joining with squadrons short of hands in remote regions or on jobs ranging from too trivial to suicidal in exchange for basic living expenses or information on sightings of constructs similar to his. - Equipment:
Armor: Being fairly poor in comparison to many of the knights with who he travels, Gillian’s armor is a bit of a hodge podge. While it is all well fitted, it largely consists of old leather armor, with modest amounts of chainmail and the odd piece of plate to supplement weaker areas. While it offers more mobility and reduced weight, it sadly lacks the greater amounts of protection a proper suit could afford.
Boar Spear: Primary weapon of choice.
Kite Shield: Guaranteed to probably block fatal stabbings or your blood back.
Broadsword: Used in conjunction with the shield for when spear is too unwieldly for the area.
The Demon's arm: A magical prosthetic that has taken the place of Gillian's original arm, constructed through an arcane process not as yet fully understood. Its aesthetics are dark and insectoid, black chitinous plates interconnected with ghostly blue membrane beneath. It is slightly more durable than the average arm, thanks to the natural armor, though Gillian is in no rush to test its limits. It can act as a catalyst for casting a limited number of spells, though weather this is a function included for some agenda of the witch or the whimsy of the demon who created is not clear. - Skills:
Gillian is a capable hunter and tracker, having spent many years as a furrier in his youth. There are few Knights of the order who can track a bleeding Orc from a day old trail in the wilds of Thaln, and Gillian is one of those proud few.
Gillian works best as a support fighter, being lightly armored in comparison to many other knights. While he can handle himself in a one on one fight, he prefers to circle around opponents distracted by comrades, harassing them from a safe distance and creating opening.
Demon Arm spells Known:
Griffe longue: Fires a projectile of white hot energy which stabs into the target before dissipating.
Larmes: Places a sigil on another creature for 12 hours. Sigil oozes harmless, but highly luminescent, fluid constantly for the duration. Sigil can be removed with any commonly available method of removing minor curses.
Le Bras du Géants: Increases the strength of the arm itself for a few moments. He can easily crush stone in his grip while this is active. However, only the arms strength is affected. While the arm might be able to palm a large stone with no issue, he would sooner throw out his back than be able to lift it.
Le Vrai Nom: Allows Gillian to disguise his arm as human. Works for less than two hours a day at maximum and prevents the casting of any other spells while it is active.
FlappyTheSpybot