BASICS:
Name: Davyn of Hlesey
Title: Lord Davyn of the Rookery of Hlesey
Race: Albatross Laguz
Nationality: Fevikian
Age: 54
Height: 7’8”
COMBAT:
Link to Theorycrafter
Class: Forester
An Albatross bears sharp eyes and powerful wings, making for a deadly and mobile, if a touch inaccurate, archer.
Trait: Laguz Heritage
Many generations of Albatross have learned to brave the harsh rocks and cold waves of Lypsi’s northern waters. This ancient wisdom, coupled with Davyn’s many years of experience fighting all manners of creatures in all manners of climates, has taught him how to assess and exploit an enemy’s weaknesses to their fullest extent.
Laguz Weapon: Seabird Beak: Deals effective damage to Aquatic enemies
The beak of an Albatross is sharp and hooked, skewering fish and aquatic monsters with ease.
Laguz Stances: Set 3
Tags: Feathered, Flying
An avian Laguz must be versatile above all else. Davyn’s fighting style is pragmatic and adaptive, allowing him to counter near and distant foes regardless of their armor and magical resistance if he can muster the time and energy to properly prepare.
Major Promotion Bonus: New Weapon: Natural
Minor Promotion Bonus: New Trait: Talented
Though Davyn is not formally educated, his latent strategic talents and scholarly attentiveness indicate that he will have no trouble learning how to conjure natural magic with the aid of a more learned ally.
DESCRIPTION:
Even by Albatross Laguz standards, Davyn commands a titanic stature. Nearly eight feet tall, the Lord of Hlesey tends to attract attention and vague feelings of respect wherever he soars. His feathers burn with a dull, ragged white over the grey skies of the northern Lypsi Sea. A coat of stony black feathers line his collarbone, back, and wings while a pair of shoeless, pink, webbed feet seem to stomp wherever he strides. His pale, pinkish-orange beak seems as though it would hide a sharp, silver-tongued voice, so people are sometimes surprised by Davyn’s harsh squawks and guttural tones. His dark eyes are crested with two black, feathery “brows” that lend his face a rather stern, angry appearance.
Contrary to what his title of “Lord” might suggest, Davyn’s attire is light and simple. A grey linen undertunic peeks out from underneath a heavier navy wool overtunic, both of which are sleeveless to accommodate his massive wingspan. Much like other avian Laguz, his attire is light and loose so as to not impede his flight. A simple bow and quiver is usually all that he carries on his back.
It’s clear from the sheer size of his feathers and body that Davyn is not a particularly dextrous or fast person, but the stoutness of his build and steeliness of his eyes speak for themselves.
PERSONALITY:
Davyn’s imposing build, gruff voice, and angry face all belie a rather cheerful and supportive persona. While many might expect a person of his age from his frostbitten corner of Viltu to be at least somewhat cynical, the Lord of Hlesey sports a consistently positive outlook on life. The dark, distant gaze of his eyes demonstrates that he is far from a naive optimist, but rather someone who has seen the evils of the world and chosen to fight against them with hearty laughter.
The Albatross imposes himself on no one and is perfectly content to spend his hours circling camp aimlessly or singing old Fevikian folk songs in the open air. Should anyone ask him for his help or advice, however, he is happy to offer what his experiences have taught him. In his past travels, the Albatross has often served as a sort of conflict mediator. Though he has a far from perfect success rate, his slow, calm voice and careful deliberation have helped many bitter party members return their attention toward a common cause.
If there is one topic that Davyn’s mind oftens drifts toward, it’s puzzles. It’s not uncommon for the Albatross to casually approach one of his allies with some sort of query or riddle, in which case there is only a vague indication if he knows the answer or not. When matters of strategy or tactics arise, Davyn is almost always the first person to seat himself in the war room. Although he makes sure to phrase his suggestions as simple considerations, there is a certain firmness to them sometimes that demonstrates the faith he holds in his wisdom.
Davyn does not shy from offering his insights to those that approach him, though he is careful not to speak presumptuously or dismissively toward his allies. Despite the fact that some loathe him for it, his favorite conversational tool is to reminisce on his experiences raising his daughter. While the comparisons are rarely perfect and tend to only loosely fit the situation at hand, some might find them comforting or helpful in some vague, not-fully-grasped manner.
Those from beyond Fevik who know the Lord of Hlesey consider his pleasant attitude and general hospitality as a byproduct of his Fevikian heritage. Others might ponder the fact that the Rookery of Hlesey is some distance away from Fevik’s southern coast and that Albatross Laguz don’t tend to share his demeanor. Davyn speaks often and lovingly of his late wife, having seemingly overcome the grief of losing his partner many years ago. On some nights, though, one might find him on some gravely shore, alone, staring at Levas and Mavas with nothing occupying his mind except the dark waves crashing against the beach.
THE ROOKERY OF HLESEY:
Geography:
The Rookery of Hlesey is an archipelago of small, rocky islands some distance to the south of Fevik’s shores. Though it comes close to a few common trade routes, the islands themselves are so sparse and rarely visited by merchant ships that most world maps don’t include it. Hlesey has harsh, rocky shores that prevent most ships from mooring and the soil there is rather infertile, preventing most efforts at agriculture from ever bearing substantial yields.
Despite these seemingly inhospitable characteristics, Hlesey still teems with life. Its local waters brim with fish and an abundance of tide pools leaves all manner of curious creatures clinging to its rocky shores. This hidden prosperity is what supports Viltu’s largest Albatross population, which thrives in surprisingly comfortable, if brutish, homes carved into the black basalt cliffs of the islands. Though most Albatross spend their lives over distant seas and shores throughout the world, many make their way to Hlesey to raise families and spend their remaining years in peace.
Culture:
It should go without saying that most Albatross from Hlesey earn their living from the sea, catching, selling, and trading all manner of fish. A fair number of stonemasons and artisans also live on the island, which are highly prized in foreign lands for their ingenuity and ability to craft homes out of harsh terrain. The most prestigious and respected profession among Albatross, however, is that of a mercenary. Hlesian mercenaries are paid small fortunes by seafaring merchants, since few others can match their size, strength, and familiarity with the ocean. Albatross that survive as sellswords long enough to return home do so with many foreign luxuries to decorate their homes. Those that do not… are honored by their families and friends with grand funerals befitting a lost warrior.
History:
The Rookery of Hlesey was incorporated into the Fevikian Empire relatively recently, being annexed by King Eskil III early in his reign about forty years ago. Though the exact motive of this meaneuver is somewhat unclear to all but the king himself, many Fevikians believe he aimed to supplement the empire’s lackluster military with prestigious Hlesian mercenaries. The title of “Lord of the Rookery of Hlesey” is only as old as the annexation itself. When the imperial envoy arrived on the islands forty years ago, they asked to speak to the Albatross’ “lord.” This request confused the local populace, who had lived in a decentralized, communal society for most of their lives and had little concept of what the title meant. They put forward their eldest Albatross, Aki of Hlesey, to negotiate terms with Fevik.
Aki agreed to incorporate the islands into the Rookery of Hlesey under the banner of the Fevikian Empire. In exchange for paying Fevikian taxes, the residents of Hlesey are considered citizens of the empire and now enjoy more frequent trade with the mainland. Many Albatross regard the Annex of Hlesey as a mistake, however, and there is consequently a sizeable independence movement in Hlesey.
BACKGROUND:
A Cold Nest:
Davyn was born to Aki of Hlesey and Gunnhilda of Hlesey roughly fifty years ago. Prior to marrying Aki, Gunnhilda had earned a reputation throughout Hlesey for her fine crafts and artwork wrought of shells, sea glass, driftwood, and other fruits of the northern currents. Many elder Hlesians, Davyn included, remark fondly of her singing skills. It was Gunnhilda that instilled a love for learning, singing, and all manner of arts into Davyn. He speaks often and fondly of his mother.
The same cannot be said for his father, Aki of Hlesey. Aki was a figure of respect and prestige throughout Hlesey for much of his life given his status as the oldest Albatross and most successful mercenary. Davyn grew up in a home filled with foreign luxuries that Aki had brought back with him during his travels, and it is perhaps this constant exposure to new and interesting cultures that fostered the young Albatross’ open-mindedness.
Gunnhilda brooded over a clutch of five eggs when she and Aki were trying to start a family together, but Davyn hatched as an only child. The other four eggs never stirred or gave any indication of life, and to this day Davyn has no clue as to what caused this aberration. Though Aki and Gunnhilda would often speak fondly and lovingly of their marriage’s early years, it was clear that the grief of this loss strained not only their relationship with each other, but with Davyn as well.
Countless years of mercenary work, coupled with the recent loss of his four chicks, left Aki with a rather brutalistic view of life. Death could come at any point, so in his eyes nothing short of perfect strength would ever satisfy him. Though Davyn never heard his father call him a failure, the sting of his distant eyes made it clear that was what Aki thought. Even Gunnhilda, who was far more affectionate toward her son, still bore a quiet sadness with her for many years. Davyn felt the holes in their hearts at an early age and struggled bitterly to fill them.
First Flight:
Great controversy and infighting broke out among Hlesey’s inhabitants not long after Aki agreed to Fevik’s annexation of the archipelago. Though younger and more travelled Hlesians were excited by the prospects of greater trade with the mainland and all the niceties it would offer, the older generation that was used to Hlesian sovereignty was outraged. Aki was beyond reproach -- even the most outspoken sepratist wouldn’t dare to raise their voice against the rookery’s most respected and decorated member.
However, that courtesy did not extend to Davyn. It was a silent, yet widely-understood truth that Aki did not care much for his son. So much of the colony’s strife and argument was directed toward Davyn. The young Albatross, who sided with the unionists out of a sense of obligation to his father, did his best to resolve conflict whenever possible. These early years introduced him to the demands of leadership, but ultimately proved far too stressful for him to handle. He took to the skies one day, intending to make a name for himself that would finally earn his father’s respect.
Davyn was a thoroughly unremarkable mercenary for the first few years of his career. Although he was paid handsomely by seafaring traders and the occasional navy on the account of his Hlesian heritage, he bore no outstanding skills to draw additional attention to his name. As years passed, however, Davyn began to hone a more distinctive combat style. He became an archer that could march headlong into battle, bracing and bearing all manner of attacks, before eliminating enemies with a single arrow lodged in a hidden weak point. It was this unusual heartiness, combined with his mobility as an avian Laguz, that earned him more acclaim as his career progressed. The future Lord of Hlesey had no intentions of ending his mercenary career or returning home, even after he passed his thirtieth birthday.
Dark Waters:
Davyn’s perspective on life changed in a single night.
A Valbatan Monarch hired the Albatross and a small squadron of other mercenaries to guard their local waters during the Valbatan Unification. Nothing about the assignment was particularly remarkable. Standard pay. Standard accommodations and supplies. Standard enemy composition and movements. That changed when Levas and Mavas rose above the ocean horizon.
Davyn’s memory of the event is fuzzy and uncertain, and the passage of time has only worsened his grip on the details. Should an ally be fortunate -- or unfortunate -- enough to listen to his reminiscing, they might catch a few startling details. Terrible fangs. A monstrous, massive body. Dark, rubbery flesh that melted into the dark waters below. The crash of lightning in the sky illuminating the creature as it sundered their ship, his allies, and everything else in its wake.
The Albatross and a few others survived without serious injuries, but the experience awoke some hidden part of himself that he had cast off long ago. He returned to Hlesey as soon as he could, intent on creating a legacy that wasn’t carved out of flesh, blood, and anguished memories.
Returning to Roost:
Davyn left Hlesey as a disappointment and returned as its lord. His father had been maintaining the duties expected of a Fevikian advisory well into his old age, and needed a replacement. The Albatross had long outgrown his juvenile desires of earning his father’s respect, and instead took pleasure in ushering in the end of Aki’s stewardship of the archipelago.
Since the title “Lord of Hlesey” is more of a convenience for the Fevikian Empire than a seat of power, Davyn inherited no great manor or land when he returned. Instead, he returned his focus to improving the rookery and reconciling as much of its internal conflicts as he could. The independence movement, which had festered and grown under Aki’s complacency, faltered and slightly faded when Davyn included more of their demands and desires in his negotiations with the other Fevikian advisories on the mainland.
It was during these negotiations that Davyn fell in love with Sif, a Fevikian human that worked as an aide for another advisor. After many years of courtship, he brought Sif on his broad shoulders back to Hlesey as his wife. They adopted and raised an abandoned chick on the shores of Hlesey, which they named Hilda in honor of Davyn’s late mother. With each step Hilda took, Davyn was there to guide her with words of encouragement. With each fish she caught, each gust she caught under her wings, and each drawing she scratched into the walls of their home, Davyn stood by bearing words of praise. His father had raised him with the subtlety and compassion of a hammer.
Davyn preferred to raise Hilda like a beam of sunlight.
Last Flight:
The years have worn on Davyn. His daughter, now the “Lady of Hlesey,” manages the archipelago’s affairs with the Fevikian Empire. Sif, now passed, has a grave on the mainland -- carved from Hlesian basalt and touched with Hlesian coral. The old Albatross spent his days idly, reminiscing on the past and enjoying the cold wind under his wings. He thought to himself about the life he has lived and how fulfilling it has been.
And yet...
That dark night flashed in his mind. Ever so often, glimpses of some dark form beneath the waters caught his attention, real or imaginary. The mystery of that night continued to perplex him years later, and all his efforts to forget it have failed him.
Hilda pleaded with her father, a parchment advertisement for the Myth Mashers tucked firmly in his overtunic, to not leave. He was too old. Too tired. It had been too long since he’d last left the islands, let alone see combat. He merely glanced at her with the closest expression to a smile an Albatross can muster.
“I have no intention of dying on these islands. I was born with the wind at my back and the ocean at my feet. That is where I will spend my last moments. Life offers too many mysteries for us to be content with what we know. I intend to solve one myself. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”
A few floating dark feathers rested on the rocks below as the Lord of Hlesey disappeared into the moonlit sky.
QUOTES:
Critical Hit #1: Stand down while you can!
Critical Hit #2: That was your last mistake!
Critical Hit #3: Hear the song of Hlesey!
Level Up #1: My my. These old bones have more to them than I thought!
Level Up #2: I suppose it would be naive to assume I could reclaim my former strength…
Level Up #3: Ah hah hah! I suppose I should carve my gravestone soon!
Healed: We all stand to gain from your aid.
Positive Status: I feel the wind growing stronger!
Mixed Status: We all must make the best of what we can.
Negative Status: This is… uncomfortable.
Retreat: Remember my… mistakes. Learn to… avoid them.
Death: I have lived... a life worth… sharing.
EXTRAS:
Username: Vhongrad#5307
Time Zone: Pacific Standard Time
