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Background
Sir Emrys Hawthorne, is notoriously known in Galenthia as the Blackrood. A bastard of Duke Dougal Tarris, the man was raised to be a knight and warrior. He earned his byname in the Succession war, due to his ruthlessness in battle. He is known to have slain several Romante and Sokar lords before his house switched sides. At the end of the war he hunted down Thorn Loyalists, before his subsequent heading off into the woods. Sightings of him have been rare.
Most recently, Emrys now Tenbrae is a Baron. Ennobled by order of the Queen for his valour and service in the Uprisings in the east, and during the 30 years war.
Born in the winter of 1830, Emrys Hawthorne was brought forth into the world a squalling babe-with the world dying around him. His mother was from the country to the North, and his father was the Duke of Tarris, Dougal. A good man, though his one lapse of judgement brought him back from the front with a babe, a year after his own son was born. He was a strong lad, and Dougal being who he was, acknowledged the little boy as his own. His mother, reported to have perished up North, as to explain her absence. Emrys was accepted, cooly by Laurna, but accepted non the less-and she would never be warm with the boy, but she was not outright cruel either. As such he was raised alongside his brother and trained with him as well. Though when the time to become a page and then a squire, Emrys would be separated and placed under a knight in the House's service in order that the Duke could see both of his sons grow, and their progress in the martial arts.
Where as Gauvain was the brilliant strategist and tactician and clearly meant to lead men and the house- Emrys displayed more prowess in the field. Killing and combat was something that came easier to him, and his movements showed a certain grace that was enviable to the squires in the house's service. At tournaments and training sessions in the yard Emrys would again, and again down his foes with efficient blunt force, which earned approval from his father. Also in this time, as the young man was growing up, an emphasis on his station was educated to him- and a made stronger due to the loyalty he felt for his brother (and father) who treated him as thick as blood.
Also being an elder sibling in a somewhat warm home, he built a fine bond with his youngest sister, and would often help her in pranks meant for the eldest. Knowing his place-only cemented that loyalty to house, to his brother, his sister, and to his station. As the boys grew and separated, Gauvain found himself attending war councils with his father, where as the squired bastard found himself riding with his knight in service of the House. The would be reunited during the war- riding with their father and his retinue. His brother would be knighted first, and he would be knighted later-though his father would not be present. He had died a year earlier and his brother-instead would be there for the ceremony. A bittersweet moment, in Emrys life. But even then as combat experience rose- so did the new knight's reputation. The Thirty Years' war would end and in the brief peace Emrys would go ranging and beating the bounds for his brother-only to be recalled. A civil War broke out, and Emrys place as he knew it was with his brother.
Emrys rode and fought with his brother for the Thorn, his own brutal efficiency on the field earning him the by name of The Blackrood, a play on his bastardy which was supposed to infuriate, but did not do so. Instead he embraced it, and wore the jeering name with pride-letting those who he cut down, know it was the Blackrood who did so. And so on the battlefield his legend spread, and Emrys earned himself the honor of being sought out by several men. Some Sokar, some Romante-each fell to his blade and are accredited to him as kills. Boons for battle songs and war stories.
Victories came, and Emrys was in each one, even this most pivotal. On the morning of the Battle of the Betrayer he was handed a name and orders. Emrys tried to press him for the reason as to this sudden change, but the elder merely said it was not for him to know. Emrys accepted this and set about readying his men with their orders. As such he was placed behind some of the smaller houses that would not join in the turning of the cloak. And he rode into them at the signal, butchering the unaware, and making sure to kill and rip by stem, branch, and whatever was left on the field. It was a long and bloody day. But, at the end of it he would ride back to his brother, grim and his mission fulfilled. He has still never asked why the change, he only assumes his brother knew what he was doing and has left it at that.
When Gauvain surrendered, so did Emrys-placing himself custody and sought the Queen's pardon. A week went by-and when Gauvain's blade was returned to him, so was his brother. Loyalty to the crown affirmed, the Blackrood spent the end of the war hunting out Thorn Loyalists and giving them the Queen's justice.
After the war Emrys changed. When as a youth and in the throes of war he had been a robust, friendly, and outgoing man- he transformed into a quiet and reserved fellow. Like his brother he found consolation in drink, and took to ranging and bound beating to keep his mind and body busy. When his brother's consort died he returned to show condolences-and even offered to his brother that he could squire his children-but then after being politely turned away returned to the wilderness.
Emrys is proud of his niece and nephew and knows all too well the social struggle they face. And one day, he too likely searches to find a place or bit of happiness of his own, just as his brother experienced. For now? He serves House Tarris in anyway they need him. Blood is always thicker and for Gauvain, Emrys will spill it bloodily.
On the Grid
"The Blackrood was a devastating piece on the battlefield. A black knight, if there was one. Mercy was not shown, if pride had been pricked…" - Father Jeremias Wode, A History of the Succession War.
This man stands at a decently generous height; somewhat above average, but not overly so. He has an average build and bearing, with strong features. His facial structure is rounded, but with a well-defined jawline. Thin lips rest beneath a prominent — without being overly so — nose. There is a nearly constant furrow to his brow, sometimes casting ice-blue eyes into shadow. His hair is a greying black that seems to cascade wildly down his face and match his well maintained beard. A few scars linger on his skin, and his hands are rough, obvious from heavy use of a weapons. And like all Tarris men he sports inked in knots and thorns. Tattoos that mark his visage and torso.
Quirks
Assumed
Down to Earth
Aggressive
Hot Tempered
Justified
Well Equipped
Nature Spirit
Veteran Fighter
Recognized Bastard
Personality
Emrys Hawthorne is a man who is used to war and his place in it. He tends to find himself an agreeable, if not quiet sort. More at home with rougher characters, Emrys is more than likely to feel out of place with nobles than common man. The only exception to this will be men of Tarris, and his brother. He is extremely loyal-and as such he will stick to that loyalty even when it is unpopular to do so.
He's down to earth, and plagued by the horrors he saw in war-though this has just manifested itself in his bluntness and edgy demeanor. Some times from this he will witness nightmares, but he's not let it rule his life. For him, his joys are solace and his family of which he would do anything for.
Though he does display a certain cruelty and ruthlessness in battle (After all he did earn the name: Blackrood) His temper is a cooler thing, and harder to calm once stoked.
These are just for OOC knowledge, and reflect only high and notable numbers.
- Blades - 10
- Defense - 9
- Archery - 8
- Hand Cannon - 7
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Exploits
No bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country. - Patton
(bethany corwin emrys gauvain log shirlyn social thomas wulfred)
(emrys event havelock jarret jephray log sealing shirlyn siada stellan thomas viola yves)
- 1875-09-13 Preparing for the End
- 1874-07-01: Sweat Stained Sheets
- 1868-05-07: A Year of Waiting
- 1868-05-01: There is No Crying in 4C!
- 1868-04-24: I’m Alive
- 1866-11-18: S&E Adventures: Carnival D3: The Golden Leaf
- 1866-11-12: S&E Misadventures: Welcome to the Show
- 1866-11-08: S&E Misadventures: The Price of Admission
- 1866-10-25: Sibling Advice
- 1866-11-07: What did I do THIS Time?
- 1866-10-21: Twixt our Two Houses
- 1866-10-28: A Gift
- 1866-10-19: Urgent Message from Home
- 1866-10-12: Advertising Wildfire
- 1866-09-24: Letter to Home
Carnival
The time of the year when Traitors don't need to wear mask
Desc
This man stands at a decently generous height; somewhat above average, but not overly so. He has an average build and bearing, with strong features. His facial structure is rounded, but with a well-defined jawline. Thin lips rest beneath a prominent — without being overly so — nose. There is a nearly constant furrow to his brow, sometimes casting ice-blue eyes into shadow. His hair is a greying black that seems to cascade wildly down his face and match his well maintained beard. A few scars linger on his skin, and his hands are rough, obvious from heavy use of a weapons. And like all Tarris men he sports inked in knots and thorns. Tattoos that mark his visage and torso.
Though for this time, the face is obscured by a mask of long drawn out wood, the lines etched as leaves make for beard and wild unruly hair under a black hat, cured and curled to look as what a farmer under the sun would wear in the fields. His dress is a motley of greens and browns, as ragged doublet looks homespun though still fine at the same time. The massive trunks of his legs are encased in mossy green pantaloons , which brown boots hold court. A dry cracked leather coat is own over shoulders, and a mottled springily green sash is worn about the waist. He comes with gourded drinking bottle, and gloves-concealing the identity of whom may be lurking underneath.
Desc
This man stabds at a decently generous height, somewhat above average, but not overly so. He has an average build and bearing, with strong features. His eyes are ice blue, and the rest of his visage is obscured by his mask
Dressed in greens, greys and blues his coat has been structured to give the appearance of scales where as tunic comes to a color of river foam. His doublet is stripped in silver and salmon, like the underbelly of a great river monster. his sash is a churning weave of green and silver as if he was wrestling with the waves. his pants are grey with sea-green piping and bloom from black boots.
A great tri-corn hat with a hole in a flap is worn on his head where as his mask hold thick leathery whiskers in the mimic of a catfish, complete with silver hook and red ribbon trailing from his left ear.
Relationships
Family
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Gauvain Tarris : My elder brother. Since my coming to Griffon Point, we have been thick as blood and close as thieves. He is truly a good man, despite what others may say of him. The Betrayer they call him. Without him they would have never won the war-and they are fools if they cannot see it. He and I must have gotten our long suffering from Father. He has never told me why we switched sides, but then. I never question him either. |
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Lady Claire Tarris : My little sister. She was born Ten year after my own squalling arrival into the world. I cherish her dearly, as she is a treasure amongst the Stallions that our father sired. Unlike Gauvain and I-I would argue she is indeed the best of us. And I fear she be the only amongst the nobility that understands my placement in it. |
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Sir Bethany Ashedown : My niece. I do love her, as she is my brother's child. Hell, I love both my niece and nephew-and when they were of age to squire I begged for them. I was denied, but I have gotten to see them grow from afar. Bethany herself is a fine woman and will make a fine Duchess if she is ever legitimized. Her only crime is she is a bastard. A crime I know all too well. |
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Sir Corwin Ashedown : My nephew of whom I am well pleased. Like me, he is now a knight! He is learning a good lesson with this: A bastard must make his own way in this world. |
Vassals (please)
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The Wolf : My Bother's trusted man, leader of the Burnished Spur. I find the Wolf to be utterly charming and made of the same stuff as my brother and myself. He's a great leader of men, even if he is too humble or drunk to acknowledge it. He's been closer to my kin than I have in recent years-and I am envious of him for it. |
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Baron Thomas Chandus : There are few men I would consider brother in arms, or even best friends. Thomas is one of those men. He is exceedingly loyal to a fault, and honest. Such things you do not find every day in Nobility, or even in friends. I am blessed to have a man like that at my side, and know that I can indeed count upon him to have my back in my endeavors, just as I would have his back should he need it. |
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Lady Synthia Reine : Ever peculiar this one. She is quick witted and quick to tease. But, I believe she is in the race for power and not for the betterment of the kingdom either. I would classify her a camp follower, if I did not know better. Thomas' squire so I do know he sees promise within her. |
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Viscount Letholdus Romante : My grim necked brother in law. It's funny how fate, or perhaps the one shines and molds things. To think, Gauvain and I divested this fellow of his father, and several other family members-and now he is entwined to us, due to his marriage to my sister. I don't know how I feel of him. He is a proud one, but that is what I would expect of a templar, and a Romante whom goes by the name of the Steel Griffon. I hope him the best with my sister-though should he prove her wrong, I would dare say that it would be the end of him. |
Arkanin
Vassals
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Lady Shirlyn Charing : How queer that this woman would invade my thoughts so succintly and thoroughly. When I met her, I thought she was one of many after a place within Thomas' house and hold after the recent death of his wife. However I was pleasantly surprised. Though she has a rough way about her, I find she and I are kindred spirits. She is loyal to her friends, and by the one she is beautiful in soul and skin as well. I can't properly talk around her, and I pray she feels the same for me as I do for her. Either way I have decided to press the issue with her father. For in her, I do not see some broodmare or some woman to leave at the hearth and home, but I see an equal and a companion. One of whom I can face hopefully, joy and danger with side by side. One I pray she will see the same in me. |
Cassomir
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Viscount Jaren Cassomir : The former Queen's champion and I did not get along, though he was friend with my brother. I'll not understand his bond, but I do know our kingdom is weaker for his passing. |
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Viscount Henric Cassomir : He served my brother for a short time. I found him to be pompous and over reacting. But such is the way of young men looking to make their mark on history. His brashness however has not cooled since he took over his brother's shadow. I do not care for his actions at Court, and find him false for what he states. Loyal men do what is right, without the greater eyes on them. |