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Race: Mixed Blood (Human + Isur) Gender: Male Age: 19 Birthday: 14, Summer, 495 AV. Birthplace: At Sea
Appearence :
Vital Statistics: Height: 5”7 Weight: 126 lbq Eye Colour: Brown Hair Colour: Black Good Looks: Extreme!
Character Concept
Gyndarios, maybe nickamed Gyn for ease, is hot tempered and reckless to say the least. He has all of the fire of an Isur with the lack of discipline a lot of human youths have. He has a strong sense of lot of things like morality, justice and the like and is willing to throw a punch for them even if it will land him in trouble. Despite this there is a warrior deep within him that, if honed correctly, could be an unstoppable force.
Character History
Guinthil Quickhand Terras was one of those Isur who chose to live at the various trading posts dotted around the river. She dealt with foreign traders on an almost daily basis bartering her smithed creations for foreign delicacies to sell on into the Kingdom. She was friendly, for an Isur. She had a kind face and a hospitable heart. She, like all Isur, believed they were the children of a Izurdin and hence better than other races but sometimes there would be a particular trader with a tongue a Sultros Clan member could boast of. Those rare occasions ended in a quick tumble and never seeing each other again. It was harmless and sometimes she got better trades for it.
Well it was harmless right up until the moment a half breed was conceived within her. When the symptoms of her pregnancy became apparent to her she knew immediately. She hadn't taken an Isur lover in some time. In fact sh'd only taken one lover in the past could of months. A human trader. She knew then what she had conceived. She knew it would never be accepted in Isur society. It probably couldn't even survive an Isur childhood. It was a disgrace to her Clan. For many Isur the solution then would have been to try and kill it before it grew further. Guinthil could not bring herself to do it. She told herself that it was because the blood of Izurdin flowed through it even diluted as it was. However, in reality she had already grown to love it. It was a child just for her.
So Guinthil packed her bags and arranged safe passage to Alvadas. There she got a boat to take the long sea voyage on to Zeltiva where he unborn child's father had claimed to live. She had this idea that she would find him and have the child. Then they would raise it together like a happy family. This thought kept her together on the long journey to Alvadas. She didn't need Sultros; she didn't need her peoples; a family would keep her.
However not all good plans bear fruit. Her pregnancy was advancing more rapidly than that of a normal isur child. As the days turned to weeks it soon became inevitable that the child would be born at sea. The night of the fourteenth day of summer four hundred and ninety-five years after the great cataclysm was a stormy one. All hands were on deck. The water raged around them and thunder split the sky. Laviku and Zulrav met in an epic clash. The child of Guinthil Quickhand took this exact night to free itself from it's wombly prison. Had the First Officer not happened to have sat in on his own child's birth some years ago Guinthil nor her newborn boy would have survived the four hour labour on the furiously raging sea. The storm itself did not abate itself until several hours after the birth. Indeed for many years after would his mother call him 'her miraculous Stormchild'.
She named him Gyndarios and, despite some reservation, decided that he would keep her family name, Quickhand. The blood of Izurdin however diluted ran through his veins. He would never be a man of the Clan Terras but he would be a part of her always and always she a part of him. He was a strong, healthy baby despite the troubling birth. A boat is no place for a baby but under the watchful eye of his mother no ill befell him. The crew themselves saw his birth as a good luck charm and would help out in any duties his mother was too exhausted to perform. By the time their ship pulled into the dock the crew were sad to see the pair off. Even the grizzled old Captain had a small tear in his eye. Alas they had to go back to the sea and Guinthil and her Stormchild had a man to find.
Having finally arrived after the rather long sea voyage Guinthil found herself somewhat overwhelmed. The city, though not as magnificent as the Citadels of Sultros, was large and she had but a name and a half-remembered face. After all those years of trading at the Outpost Guinthil was lucky enough to have some change after organising passage so they stayed at an Inn while she carried out her search. It was slow going especially with a newborn child but Guinthil was a child of Izurdin. The blood of a God flowed through her. The blood of generations of strong Terras' women pulsed in her veins. When she was determined to do something she would do it.
Eventually she found a woman claiming to be the father's mother. She said that he roamed all over Mizahar trading and came back very infrequently. When Guinthil informed Mrs Emily Whitcreek of that she had a grandson and they were staying at an inn the elderly woman demanded they come stay with her. At first Guinthil declined. No daughter of Izurdin would take charity from a human. The elderly woman, however, had a fire burning within that reminded Guinthil a lot of her own mother who still lived back in Sultros. She wouldn't take no for an answer and that was how the Quickhands began living with the Whitcreeks. With a grandmother now to look after her young Stormchild she did what Isurs do best. She opened up a blacksmiths and worked the forges. She was glad to feel the heat of the forge again and finally felt her life resuming to something half like normal. She would work and wait for the father of her child to return.
As the days turned to weeks and the weeks to seasons he never did return. They thrived without him, however. Gyndarios was growing up healthy and strong. Guinthil raised him like an Isur as best she could. She told him the stories of her people; gave him the weighted toys to play with; watched as he ran circles around all of his little friends. She knew he'd never be as strong as a true Isur but what his physical body lacked he made up for in spirit. She would always tell him that deep within was spirit of a true Isur. He rewarded her for her love by always striving to impress her. The only time his prowess truly caused friction between mother and son was when it came to the crafts. Unlike a full blooded Isur he had almost no innate ability in them. Children half his age in Sultros could have made finer works than he. He wasn't even that good at other crafts either.
This friction grew as Gyndarios entered the human age of puberty. Then he stopped wanting to impress his mother as much. The human children he played with didn't do this. They seemed almost to hate their mothers and fathers. Gyndarios paid even less attention to his Isur heritage than ever before. He would refuse to work the forge at all. He only worked at his physical training to impress the ladies.
At the age of sixteen he had a rather large falling out with his mother and moved out. He only got worse after that. He started going to Taverns. He started using his physical superiority to start fights with guys that were taller than him. Really he was just trying to show off in front of the girls which was a time honoured practice among the Isur. However without a father to show him what was really appropriate he got a bit out of control on several occasions. He might have had quite a string of girlfriends over the years but he paid for it in an equal amount of beatings.
It was only when his grandmother died did he realise that his mother was all he had. He'd grown wickedly out of control. He'd been trying to live as a human and, ironically, it had been his isur stubbornness that had blinded him to it. He moved back into the Whitcreek house which had been passed down to Guinthil through his grandmother's will.
Some moons later they were going through some of his grandmother's old letters and they found one that had come the day before she died. It was a letter from Jonathan Whitcreek, Gyndarios' father. It said that he was between jobs at the moment and living in Stormhold Citadel. Despite the time that had elapsed between the letter being sent and them reading it Gyndarios had immediately made up his mind to go to Syliras and find his father. To his surprise his mother decided not to join him. She gave him her blessing to do so but she had long since abandoned the idea of them being a happy family.
He arranged to leave with a caravan as soon as possible. They would take the relatively safe Kabrin road over to Syliras. On the eve of his departure his mother gave him a shield she had been gifted a long time ago back in Sultros by her sister. He had practised with it before as Guinthil had always known her son would one day want to go out into the world and he would need the protection only the Isur could give. She would not see him off the next day but she tucked him into bed like she had done when he was little and told him “Be safe, my miraculous Stormchild.”
Language
Fluent Language: Common Basic Language: Isurian
Please note: I am taking no Poor Language. Yes, I'm sure.
A shield given to him by his mother. His only link to his Isur heritage. It initially appears to be the size of a buckler and acts as such. It can actually be expanded with the pulling of a release key. Upon release the fans that make up the retractable shield spread out and become a large shield. The retractable shield then acts just like large shield. Retractable shields require one minute to retract to their original state and this is done by turning the key until the fans that make up the shield lock into place.
![[Verified by Crosspatch]](./images/checkmark.png "[Verified by Crosspatch]")
Gyndarios Quickhand 
by Gyndarios Quickhand on February 12th, 2015, 5:30 pm 
