Vincent Gorvald

[Vincent Gorvald]

Zeltiva CS - Vincent Gorvald Physical Description Name: Vincent Gorvald Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 30 Birthday: Spring 27, 482 AV Character Concept A rather shrewd, calculating yet somewhat self assured man, Vincent has an air of command about him which makes him seem older than his years. He is the kind of quiet person who does not speak often, but when he does, his soft voice will carry throughout the room, and people will listen. He is extremely vengeful and will take something said against him to the grave, it is unwise to cross him because behind the quiet demeanor is a raging mass of emotion, hatred, fear, jealousy and sheer unbridled wrath at any perceived slight against his personage or that of his closest friends and allies. He treats people he trusts as his family, with great certainty friends mean much more to Vincent than blood and this is apparent in his choice of companions. Character History Vincent Gorvald, son of Leon Gorvald, esteemed Syliran Sergeant Knight and instructor at the academy. Leon is thought of very highly in most circles related to the Knights and carries allot of clout with people who move within them. Vincent as a Knights first born son had a life with little to want for, a good education and somewhat harsh military style discipline in the household gave him a good respect for the law or at least how to give the correct answers in the correct tone. "Yes Sir, No Sir, Three bags full" and all the rest. Behind closed doors or when out on his own though he allowed resentment and disdain to show through in his eyes when conversing with people he deemed to be below his station. While Vincent's father had several occasions to discipline him as a child he was never unfair, he treated Vincent as he would a student and punished him according to the crime. Vincent quickly learned simply to behave in his fathers presence and in any company with which he knew his father would hear of his misdeeds. This being said Vincent was a good, wholesome youth, of average height and a lean muscular build he was set for a career in the Knights, to follow in his fathers footsteps. This was certainly what he was groomed for from the day he took his first steps. Vincent disliked swordplay, while with practice he became proficient in it he never truly lusted for combat like his younger brother. The youth would take extreme pleasure in trouncing Vincent at sparring practice, although two years younger, Alex was an artist. His father even professed amazement when he watched Alex practice, the stubbed and splintered wooden practice sword looked like a treacherous brown snake in Alex's hands, now slithering through the grass, now striking with deft accuracy only to return to a guarded stance not even a moment after the strike landed. Vincent knew he could never match Alex in sword play and took to avoiding practice like the plague, he would always find reason to be absent when he knew Alex had spare time of an afternoon or he saw Alex heading down to the courtyard of their manor house with his practice sword in hand and padded shirt slung over his shoulder. Vincent became very anti-social, almost reclusive toward his family. He would find more and more reason to leave the house and spend his time down at the docks with the sailors there and began to make his own family there. Vincent quickly became familiar with many of the faces that frequented the docks and would happily lend a hand when asked in return for tales of the sea faring life, pirates and typhoons later on at the local watering holes, while these were rough establishments and at first he received unfriendly glares and there were several occasions he barely escaped with his life after a drunken sailor had decided he didn't like the cut of Vincent's jacket. Yet doggedly Vincent would return, night after night, to be swept away into the fantasies the salty old sea dogs would spin. Events came to a head when it was deemed time for Vincent and Alex to pledge themselves as squires and join the service of the Syliran Knights. Vincent's father being well thought of within the Knighthood was asked by one Captain Knight of the 4th Squadron, Ser Trevan to provide him with a Squire. Being a fair man Vincent's father Ser Gorvald struggled with the decision, with one son clearly reluctant to join and who was well known to be shirking his responsibilities and another who was the very epitome of a Knight fastidious, responsible, and the best damn swordsman he had seen in a long time. Yet it was Vincent who was the elder, it was Vincent who was his true Heir. Alex was irate, "Father! how can you be even thinking of letting Vince go! He will make a terrible squire, he will shame our house and name!" The sounds of Alex's voice drifted up the stairs to where Vincent was listening. "Have you not seen him down at the docks? associating with the common rabble, a few months ago he was beaten half to death by a drunk! What kind of message will you send to the Captain if you send Vincent." He argued. "Well what kind of message am I sending to the Captain when he finds out that I have sent my second son! Oh Alex, you know... " Leon tried to explain but Alex cut him off mid sentence. "How about I fight him for it? fair and square! bring him down here now! I will prove to you that I am far more deserving. I will prove to all of you that I am the only REAL son you have here... Vincent, VINCENT!!! GET YOUR LOUSY ASS OUT HERE! COME DOWN AND FIGHT ME!" Alex paced back and forth a fire burning behind his eyes. Vincent skulked at the top of the stairwell, not knowing whether to run or hide, but something within him drew him to the confrontation. Something within him could not back down. "NO!" Leon shouted when he saw Vincent poke his head into the room, even Alex's face showed his surprise that Vincent had actually heeded his impromptu challenge. "Vince, you know you can't win, just tell father to send me, tell him now. Tell him I am the better swordsman, Tell him I will make the better squire." "No" The words hung in the air for a moment, soft as silk yet hard as iron. "You couldn't poke a hole in a bed sheet with your stumpy little practice sword." The words were cold and calculated, delivered with precise intent and they had their desired effect. Alex flew into a horrendous rage, no one EVER spoke to him like that in his life and Alex felt as though this was something from which he could never regain face if it did not end in death. Alex fumbled with the clasp of the sword at his hip (their father had only just given them each a sword the day before, with the news of their imminent initiation into the Knighthood he thought it best they got used to carrying one around) and with the rasp of iron sword leaving sheath, he drew the blade, its glittering surface alight. Flames danced upon the swords surface, a haunting reflection of the fires in the hearth. Leon stood steadfastly between the two boys, arms outstretched, his own sword not with him as he had been sitting in the lounge reading at the fireside when Alex had stormed in to question him about the news. "This goes no further, You will draw no swords in my house, there will be NO blood shed beneath my roof!" It was Vincent's turn to draw his sword now, slowly, in deliberate disregard of his fathers commands, Vincent pulled his sword from its scabbard at his hip. "C'mon Alex, show me how you whip the daisy heads of their stalks with your pig sticker!" Vincent taunted his brother, knowing full well what it was doing to him. Alex was speechless, he was making flabbergasted grunting noises under his breath in an attempt to make some kind of response. He was almost foaming now with rage. "What are you doing Vince!" Their father yelled, "You know this only has one possible conclusion!" "Yes father, there can only be ONE... conclusion." and with that he took a step to the side and lunged at Alex, Alex was slow to recover from his shock, but with Leon in the way the stab Vincent made was hardly threatening in any way. Then they danced. Vincent and his brother circled for what seemed to be hours, Vincent whipping his brother further and further into a frenzy and the father continuing to try to bring the situation back to a manageable level. Several things happened next and they seemed to happen almost in slow motion. Firstly, Vincent appeared to loose his footing in the dimly lit room, stumbling over a chair, a split second later came Alex's strike. Fast as a cobra the sword whipped out to slash at Vincent's face as he managed to knock Leon out of the way with a sudden burst of energy. The strike missed Vincent by mere centimeters as he quickly ducked and rolled out of the way, Alex was already preparing another strike though, this time a sweeping overhand strike with enough force to cleave Vincent's head from his body. Unfortunately at this stage Leon had recovered and was rushing back to re-take his place between the boys. The blow landed with a sickening crunch of metal on bone, the shock of the contact sending shivers up Alex's arm. The rest of that night is blackness, Vincent has suppressed the memories so deep that he will never willingly remember them. His next memory is of being on board a ship to Zeltiva, the crisp sea breeze running through his hair. He took with him a sizeable portion of his families wealth, which was hidden among his belongings and had signed up as crew, now he sailed out the Faleyk Gulf and onward to sea, returning to port in Zeltiva after a few years spent living off of his work on board the ship, the sea and what trading he could do at other port cities along the way. All the while a dark cloud hung over his head, brooding, boiling and casting a dark shadow over his life. Yes, Zeltiva was where he would seek to make his OWN name, and seek the means to his vengeance. Possessions 1 Set of Clothing -Simple Shirt -Simple Pants -Simple Undergarments -Simple Cloak/coat -Simple Boots 1 Waterskin 1 Backpack which contains: -Comb (Wood) -Brush (Wood) -Soap -Razor -Balanced Rations (1 Week’s Worth) -1 eating knife -Flint & Steel Heirloom: Fathers Sword (Longsword) 600 Gold Mizas Housing: None. Ledger Purchase Cost Total Starting +100 GM 100 GM Housing +500 GM 600 GM Skills, Lores, Magics, Gnosis, Languages Skill EXP Total Proficiency Weapon: Longsword 15 SP 15 RB 30 Competent Philosophy 5 SP 5 Novice Leadership 10 SP 10 Novice Navigation: Sea 20 SP 20 Novice Practiced Languages: Common Fluent Language: Common Lores: Syliran Knights Lore (marshal - field tactics) Seafaring Lore (Ocean Mythology/Tradition)

[Vincent Gorvald]

Thread List

Prologue:
[Flashback] That night, things changed
[Flashback] Next Stop Zeltiva

The adventure begins Chapter 1:
[Entrance] The Rolling Waves
[Flashback] First Steps
[Flashback](open) Vincent learns about the Martial Association

The best laid plans Chapter 2:
[Seasonal Event] The Winter Ball