Sarwyck Graystone - The Price of Tragedy
Posted: Tue Jan 13, 2015 5:21 pm
First Name: Sarwyck
Last Name: Graystone
Appearance:
Race: Shield Dwarf
Age: 133
Height 4'8"
Weight: 198lbs
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Faded Black
Facial Hair Style: Long Beard, traditional for most dwarves. With two massive braids followed by two smaller ones.
Personality Profile:
General Health:
Aging but well conditioned.
Deity: Vergadain, though his faith wains.
Initial Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Profession: Soldier, Scout, Tinkerer, Survivalist
Base Class & Proposed Development:
Habits/Hobbies: Creating flasks, traps, contraptions, inventing new ways to fight.
Languages: Dwarven and Common
Weapon of Choice: Halberd
Yet the reality of the tale is much more severe and grim than he would paint it. His life began like most dwarves. Born in a dwarven stronghold in the mountains. He was the youngest of five brothers and two sisters. The Graystone family was prominent in producing high quality "scouts." Renown for it at one time, at least within the clan's history. Which dwarves are proud to remind you is very important. So naturally as Sarwyck aged he was taught the proper way of addressing people and trained in the dwarven art of combat. Fitted to join his brothers and sisters in the dwarven brigade. It was the natural way of things and Sarwyck enjoyed it. The company of his family, fighting alongside his brothers and kin. Keeping his people safe from the terrors of raiding orcs and the like.
For decades he would fight along side them, drink with them and sometimes even fight them. They were a tight nit group. Family often is and it was on the day of their father's death that the Graystones would be truly tested. He was old and they knew he was passing. It wasn't unexpected or even something that angered them. Just a shame that he could not stay in this world with them forever. Borgar, the eldest of Sarwyck's brothers stayed by their father's bedside throughout the entire length of his bed ridden span. Malgus, Dornga and Sefa, two of Sarwyck's older brothers and his sister. Carried on with their duties, protecting the halls and corridors of the stronghold. Dappi and Lanwyck were the closest to Sarwyck's age, they spent most of their time with their mother. Helping her make preperations for the burial. Sarwyck was torn between duty and family. He spent his time tinkering in a nearby workshop. Making flasks, powder kegs, bear traps, nose traps and various other contraptions.
This is however where the sad death of a father turns into the event that turns our noble Sarwyck into the dwarf he is to day. A horn blarred, they were being invaded. The clans took up arms and Sarwyck rushed to gather up his siblings. There were wailing sounds, hard to determine from his distance but he heard the familar ring of steel on steel. Which haven't been heard in these halls since past his time. He arrived to his house's steed and Malgus was there in full battle plate. He explained the situation to his family, all gathered to hear. Even their dying father. Apparently the miners had unearthed a old construct. One not like they'd ever seen and not of dwarven creation. He discribed the creature to tower at least thirteen feet and it's size was massive like an ogre. The sum of their clan was ready to dispatch the creature. Apparently it wasn't hostile, not at first but it was old so something in it's parameters must've gone awry. Fiffty or so of the dwarven fighters rallied there already. The Greystones said their farewell to their father, knowing it may've been the last time they'd speak. Sarwyck looked into his father's eyes and promised him that he' would do everything in his power to keep the family safe. Much like his brothers said before him. It was the respectful thing to say after all.
They went out to meet their foe. Charging toward the sound and wail of battle as they grew closer they could here the grinding sound of what they thought to be the gears of the construct and when they laid their eyes upon it. Sarwyck, Dappi and Lanwyck were stunned the younger of the siblings simply at a loss for words for the monstrosity. This massive, hunched creature built of stone and metal was swinging its long, heavily plated arms. They seemed to be crashing into the dwarves like metal posts. Its shoulders flanking a flat-featured, oblong head, but its back, that was the true horror. Spikes of various sizes -- all barbed and covered in gore dried and fresh -- sprout from the plates of metal on its back. Yet you could barely see this, because dwarves lined it. Impaled like trophies, their mouths open in silent screams. The colosal creature had already done a heavy blow to their company and Sarwyck was left stunned in fear as he watched each dwarf being added to the pile. As he saw his brothers and sisters slaughtered like lambs, their blood leaking out of their wounds like water from a melon. This construct had no remorse, no mercy and it was clear it was just doing what it thought it needed to do. Where is his god now, where is all the paragons and deities they praised? Lanwyck tried to snap his brother out of it but Sarwyck's resolve snapped and who could blame him? He knew it was their end. The sound of bones snapping and crunching beneath the constructs feet were enough to drive a man mad alone.
In the dim light of torches that remained Sarwyck saw his family, his kin and his heritage snuffed out in a singular battle. With an ungodly creation. He watched motionless like a statue as the construct picked up bodies of his brothers Malgus, Lanwyck and Borgar and impalled them on his back. In his mind he imagined that this gave him a boost of rage which he acted out charging the creature and taking it out with one lucky fell swoop. Yet he knew the reality, he would die. So many before him just tried what good was he? So instead he loomed like a ancient watcher. Seeing his family defiled. Their corpses gnarled and twisted as the clank of the creature moved around the massacre.
As if this wasn't enough, the stomps of the massive collector went deeper into the stronghold. As he seemed not to register Sarwyck in his monolithic state. Which meant the certian doom of the women, men and children who were not at the battle. Sarwyck knew this included his mother and father. What was he to do? He was broken a shell of a dwarf he used to be. His will taken from him, an overwhelming sense of dread had been his aura. The knowledge of nearly every one he had known, being taken from him led him to leave his home. The sound of the crashing monster behind him as he walked out on those he swore to protect.
As he wandered the surface area his mind began to warp and flay to protect the memories and so that he could function. His doubts of the gods and ability to lead led him to go freelance, during this time he develops a more bouestores personality, trying to forget the past by enamoring himself with explosives and fighting, whilst maintaining his morals and gentleman like décor.
Goals: To regain his honor as a fighter. Protect those who need it and invent the biggest bomb the world has ever seen. Properly mourn his loss.
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts:
He's a fighter, so he'll be happy to join a fight or help someone who needs it.
He seeks no riches but will not turn them away. Glory is his main prize, for now.
Last Name: Graystone
Appearance:
Race: Shield Dwarf
Age: 133
Height 4'8"
Weight: 198lbs
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Faded Black
Facial Hair Style: Long Beard, traditional for most dwarves. With two massive braids followed by two smaller ones.
Personality Profile:
General Health:
Aging but well conditioned.
Deity: Vergadain, though his faith wains.
Initial Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Profession: Soldier, Scout, Tinkerer, Survivalist
Base Class & Proposed Development:
Habits/Hobbies: Creating flasks, traps, contraptions, inventing new ways to fight.
Languages: Dwarven and Common
Weapon of Choice: Halberd
Background:
If he were to tell the story, it would be a lot different. “Sir and or Madam the tale is simple and quite boring..I was raised by bears, in the winter lands of Icewind Dale. Took my first bounty at the age of twelve! Built my first explosive device out of tree sap, twigs, some sulfur and bear dung! Broke my first bone….NEVER, I’m too strong to have bones broken sir and or madam! Have I ever been in love? What a preposterous question!!! Of course I have. Her name is Vio Lance!”Yet the reality of the tale is much more severe and grim than he would paint it. His life began like most dwarves. Born in a dwarven stronghold in the mountains. He was the youngest of five brothers and two sisters. The Graystone family was prominent in producing high quality "scouts." Renown for it at one time, at least within the clan's history. Which dwarves are proud to remind you is very important. So naturally as Sarwyck aged he was taught the proper way of addressing people and trained in the dwarven art of combat. Fitted to join his brothers and sisters in the dwarven brigade. It was the natural way of things and Sarwyck enjoyed it. The company of his family, fighting alongside his brothers and kin. Keeping his people safe from the terrors of raiding orcs and the like.
For decades he would fight along side them, drink with them and sometimes even fight them. They were a tight nit group. Family often is and it was on the day of their father's death that the Graystones would be truly tested. He was old and they knew he was passing. It wasn't unexpected or even something that angered them. Just a shame that he could not stay in this world with them forever. Borgar, the eldest of Sarwyck's brothers stayed by their father's bedside throughout the entire length of his bed ridden span. Malgus, Dornga and Sefa, two of Sarwyck's older brothers and his sister. Carried on with their duties, protecting the halls and corridors of the stronghold. Dappi and Lanwyck were the closest to Sarwyck's age, they spent most of their time with their mother. Helping her make preperations for the burial. Sarwyck was torn between duty and family. He spent his time tinkering in a nearby workshop. Making flasks, powder kegs, bear traps, nose traps and various other contraptions.
This is however where the sad death of a father turns into the event that turns our noble Sarwyck into the dwarf he is to day. A horn blarred, they were being invaded. The clans took up arms and Sarwyck rushed to gather up his siblings. There were wailing sounds, hard to determine from his distance but he heard the familar ring of steel on steel. Which haven't been heard in these halls since past his time. He arrived to his house's steed and Malgus was there in full battle plate. He explained the situation to his family, all gathered to hear. Even their dying father. Apparently the miners had unearthed a old construct. One not like they'd ever seen and not of dwarven creation. He discribed the creature to tower at least thirteen feet and it's size was massive like an ogre. The sum of their clan was ready to dispatch the creature. Apparently it wasn't hostile, not at first but it was old so something in it's parameters must've gone awry. Fiffty or so of the dwarven fighters rallied there already. The Greystones said their farewell to their father, knowing it may've been the last time they'd speak. Sarwyck looked into his father's eyes and promised him that he' would do everything in his power to keep the family safe. Much like his brothers said before him. It was the respectful thing to say after all.
They went out to meet their foe. Charging toward the sound and wail of battle as they grew closer they could here the grinding sound of what they thought to be the gears of the construct and when they laid their eyes upon it. Sarwyck, Dappi and Lanwyck were stunned the younger of the siblings simply at a loss for words for the monstrosity. This massive, hunched creature built of stone and metal was swinging its long, heavily plated arms. They seemed to be crashing into the dwarves like metal posts. Its shoulders flanking a flat-featured, oblong head, but its back, that was the true horror. Spikes of various sizes -- all barbed and covered in gore dried and fresh -- sprout from the plates of metal on its back. Yet you could barely see this, because dwarves lined it. Impaled like trophies, their mouths open in silent screams. The colosal creature had already done a heavy blow to their company and Sarwyck was left stunned in fear as he watched each dwarf being added to the pile. As he saw his brothers and sisters slaughtered like lambs, their blood leaking out of their wounds like water from a melon. This construct had no remorse, no mercy and it was clear it was just doing what it thought it needed to do. Where is his god now, where is all the paragons and deities they praised? Lanwyck tried to snap his brother out of it but Sarwyck's resolve snapped and who could blame him? He knew it was their end. The sound of bones snapping and crunching beneath the constructs feet were enough to drive a man mad alone.
In the dim light of torches that remained Sarwyck saw his family, his kin and his heritage snuffed out in a singular battle. With an ungodly creation. He watched motionless like a statue as the construct picked up bodies of his brothers Malgus, Lanwyck and Borgar and impalled them on his back. In his mind he imagined that this gave him a boost of rage which he acted out charging the creature and taking it out with one lucky fell swoop. Yet he knew the reality, he would die. So many before him just tried what good was he? So instead he loomed like a ancient watcher. Seeing his family defiled. Their corpses gnarled and twisted as the clank of the creature moved around the massacre.
As if this wasn't enough, the stomps of the massive collector went deeper into the stronghold. As he seemed not to register Sarwyck in his monolithic state. Which meant the certian doom of the women, men and children who were not at the battle. Sarwyck knew this included his mother and father. What was he to do? He was broken a shell of a dwarf he used to be. His will taken from him, an overwhelming sense of dread had been his aura. The knowledge of nearly every one he had known, being taken from him led him to leave his home. The sound of the crashing monster behind him as he walked out on those he swore to protect.
As he wandered the surface area his mind began to warp and flay to protect the memories and so that he could function. His doubts of the gods and ability to lead led him to go freelance, during this time he develops a more bouestores personality, trying to forget the past by enamoring himself with explosives and fighting, whilst maintaining his morals and gentleman like décor.
Goals: To regain his honor as a fighter. Protect those who need it and invent the biggest bomb the world has ever seen. Properly mourn his loss.
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts:
He's a fighter, so he'll be happy to join a fight or help someone who needs it.
He seeks no riches but will not turn them away. Glory is his main prize, for now.
- His mother could still be alive, along with his sister Sefa.
The Cadaver Collecter that killed his people could be in control of someone.
His mind breaking again, to revert to he once was.