Post by Gwyr Malris on Dec 28, 2012 15:59:26 GMT -5
GENERAL
Full Name: Gwyr Malris
Race: Dwarf
Age: 57
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Hetrosexual
Birthplace: Orzammar
Residence: Denerim, travels
Affiliation: Unaffiliated (Currently)
Occupation: Grouchy Stonemason
Religion: Ancestor worship
COMBAT
Class: Warrior
Character Stats:
Strength: 4
Dexterity: 1
Willpower: 1
Magic:
Cunning:
Gear:
A single Red Steel Battle-axe.
While Gwyr claims possession of armour of the legion of the dead, he is rarely if ever seen with it adorning his person. A preference is made for a simple lenin shirt and trousers accompanied with a sturdy pair of leather shoes. The armour is exactly as expected. A heavy set of platemail armour crafted by master smiths and adorned with various text and runes of the dwarven language while being chipped, worn and dented. A fair bit of the detailing and paintwork has been stripped away from the constant conflict it once saw.
Several flask of various ales
Tool kit of hammers, chisels and other such.
CHARACTERISTICS
Appearance: All the hair on Gwyr's body from his mane of chest hair to the tightly-shaven short hair on his head is a light auburn that is starting to show signs of his age by the addition of greys. His beard in turn is woven into five immaculate braids decorated by various decorative bones or shards of metal that he weaves into the beard. His moustache trails off into two smaller braids.
His eyes are a set of dusty chocolate brown orbs, framed by thick and inflated bags and adorned with a collection of crow's feet surronding them. For someone who rides about on a cart all day to then yell about the wares he has for sale, Gwyr is buff. He's thick, stout and barrel-chested but with obvious muscle tone to counter-act his obvious weight gain and beer belly over the past few weeks.
Personality: Gwyr is exactly what one expects of a Warrior caste dwarf that's been publically shamed, demonised and reduced from a rising star amongst the movers and shakers of Orzammar society to a banished dwarf that abandoned his chance at redemption that now lives on a pittance in a human city that's above ground.
Demure and grim, Gwyr would rather drown himself in ale than deal with his problems. He's near the point where he could be described as suicidal and apathic but is torn between what he views as a coward's way out when he could simply wade back into the deep roads and solve all of his existing problems with one fel swoop.
Morbid and stern, Gwyr is infamous for gallows jokes and black humour as a safety cushion for his own failings and the various things he's lived through.
A hardliner traditionalist Orzammar dwarf, he's honourable and truthful to a fault. Characteristics that could be described as his only redeeming features. He can come across as abrasive and rude especially to branded casteless and surface dwarves primarily because he hasn't fully shook off his Orzammar upbringing. Ironically, he treats city elves with some extent of respect due to events in his past. Around nobility and warriors he sees as worthy of his time, he adopts a warming and almost submissive demeanour with heavy flavourings of my lord or my lady thrown in for good measure.
In battle, Gwyr is an entirely person. He's silent to a fault except for the occassional screams of rage as he hurls himself onto his oppenants blades. He says that the battlefield is the only place he feels truly alive and that's the sheer truth. Unfortunately for him, there's very little combat in the world for a travelling street peddler, save the few bandits.
HISTORY
House Malris was founded by the Warrior Malris in a time outside of mind. Malris, himself was a master of arms said to wade into combat in a thick suit of the finest woven armour. The suit was designed in such a way that the helm was a grimacing skull and that Malris would enter an unending rage while on the battlefield and in his suit. He was the first to enter battle and the last to leave it. Or so the legends state, but no one of the house is certain. The only truth known to his story was that Malris was lost to the deep roads and that House Malris is renowned for the amount of Berserkers that make up its ranks and is influential due to its position as a Warrior Caste house serving under House Caldrik of the Noble Houses.
Gwyr was born to House Malris on the eve of thirteen cloudreach in eighty seven cloudreach and from the day he was able to walk and hold a weapon, he's been trained to wield everything from swords and axes to maces. From this time in his youth, Gwyr has pushed himself to be better than his best. He took up the path of the Berserker once he had mastered bladeplay which was taught to him by his uncle Fenrin. The path of the berserker earned him much renown and honour during an expedition into the deep roads led by House Caldrik when during a vast attack of darkspawn, he gave into his rage and threw himself into the horde without batting an eyelash. In a torrent of death and gore, he was described as Malris reborn and with the horde beat back by the tide of dwarves, the expedition was abandoned and they returned to Orzammar.
The expedition wasn't a complete failure. It was the first time numerous of House Malris' youth got full experience in combat and Gwyr was appointed as second to Ivin Caldrik. A move that would later prove to be folly. Ivin was of House Caldrik, was one who had no true skills or capabilities of his own. The man was to describe it simply an oaf, a coward and a pitiful stain on the honour of house Caldrik. Unfortunately, he was the first born of House Caldrik and the soon to be Patriach of the family when his ailing father passed on.
Gwyr served Ivin loyally for years. The warrior reduced to little more than a armed babysitter for the petulat noble brought Gwyr's rage to the front and after one insult too many he challenged the nobleman to a duel due to the insult to his honour. What began as a duel to first blood quickly escalated when the nobleman chided and demeaned Gwyr who slew the bastard in cold blood.
Needless to say the Shaperate and House Malris were outraged. Gwyr's actions had scorned House Malris and caused its rapid loss of standing. The death of Ivin left the Caldrik without any heirs of a suitable age. House Malris was declared as honourless and were to be stripped of all history and caste. In a bid to regain his lost honour, the young Gwyr was suggested the alternative. He would wade into the Deep Roads and join the so-called Legion of the Dead, where he would fight Darkspawn until he was dead. His name would be stricken from all records and he would be declared dead. However, it returned the honour of House Malris and saw they kept their place amongst the Warrior Caste. Gwyr agreed and set forth for the deep roads.
The shame and turn of events reduced Gwyr to a wreck and he refused to remove his helm or speak once he joined with the dead. For countless years, he fought against the Darkspawn in the depths of deep roads under the leadership of Kardol. Thus came Gwyr's first venture to the surface when the blight began and the legion marched out to fight in the battle for Denerim.
As the Warden worked to save Ferelden from being consumed by the Darkspawns blight, Gwyr rampaged through the streets of Denerim hunting down and butchering whatever came upon him and saving whatever civilians he could get his hands on. As he eyed an ogre laying siege to a house with a family trapped within it, the dwarf smirked to himself and threw himself onto the beast in a mass of fury. He rained blow upon blow the beast before being swatted away like a fly and crumbling into a heap on the streets.
Gwyr awoke after the battle to find he had been dragged away by a healer to tend to his various wounds. Rather disgruntled that he missed the chance to throw himself into the maw of the archdemon, he thanked the elf for its aid and went to take his leave. The elf, Malraniel, in turn offering a place of residence, which he accepted until his wounds fully healed. Rather than rush off to combat the next tide of Darkspawn that've retreated beneath the surface, Gwyr took up the task of assisting the citizens of Denerim to rebuild their city as thanks to the elf who saved his life... More than ten years later, she was still trying to get rid of him.
BEHIND THE MASK
Player’s Pen Name: Fresh Meat
Contact: PM
Roleplay Experience: About five years of tabletop, roughly.
Language(s): English, Irish, French
How did you find us?: Bioware forums
Roleplay Sample:
Roleplay Sample:
In the darkness of the Denerim household, the surface dwarf Gwyr brooded. He sat over his work station that resided on the table, the only light coming from a single flickering candle. He furrowed his brow, the crows lines and wrinkles of his forehead shifting slightly with his frustration. He glanced over his shoulder to the elderly city elf that was brooding at him, attempting to bore a hole through the back of his head. But his task must be done! It needed to be done!
He picked up the small chisel as he watched the elf who responded with a resounding "No." The two egos clashed into a foray that would make the warden and the Archdemon jealous. He brought the chisel towards the wood on the workstation, slowly, to build up the tension of the sequence. The elf simply furrowed her brow and glowered at Gywr. "Soddin' elf" he retorted as he blew out the candle and left the small wooden toy unfinished.
He picked up the small chisel as he watched the elf who responded with a resounding "No." The two egos clashed into a foray that would make the warden and the Archdemon jealous. He brought the chisel towards the wood on the workstation, slowly, to build up the tension of the sequence. The elf simply furrowed her brow and glowered at Gywr. "Soddin' elf" he retorted as he blew out the candle and left the small wooden toy unfinished.
Password: Divine
