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Background
Born in the year 1835, Havelock was the son of a roving Hedge Knight who had found a good master and settled into a life of dutiful service. Such was the life that Havelock was raised into, taught from an early age the ways of weapons and many an hour spent at the pell, Havelock was tutored in the way of war. Made a page at six, Havelock spent many a day learning weapons and polishing armour for those above his station. All good lessons that would stand him in good stead for the day he became an adult. Though his mother sought to temper the warlike lessons with a more rounded view of the world, from dancing to singing and even a rather decent turn at sketching that developed into quite the hobby throughout his years. Though it was perhaps the quieter hours spent in the garden with his mother that Havelock enjoyed the most, the quiet alone was all too enjoyable, the gentle lessons in plants and their uses, how to look after them and cultivate them though lost over the years, a good many of those lessons stuck by him. Though commonborn, the good service of his father allowed for a certain quality of life, his mother having married beneath her and yet by all accounts their marriage was quite the loving one. Havelock's own life was geared to continuing his father's service, hours at the pell whatever the weather heardened the youth to the rigours of the elements, the rain often considered more of a relief given its soothing nature and the strain his muscles grew accustomed to.
As the years progressed, Havelock was soon made a squire given his promising start and his training began ever anew, ensuring that the hedge knight whom he served never wanted for anything. Armour cleaned, weapons kept free of rust and straps and leather oiled and kept supple. From that to maintaining the man's own horse and his own and further learning to put his skills atop a horse to many a greater test, the lessons of the garden and the more gentile skills slipped for a good while, for Havelock's time as a squire saw him thrust into the Thirty Year War on the side of Galenthia. The screams, the shouting, the utter confusion all further added to the young Havelock's learning and yet he stuck to his knight, aiding him as best he could and putting what strength he had into ensuring his knight had all he could ever need. At times even fighting alongside him for the two short years that Havelock found himself old enough to wage war. At times fear shook him to the very core, yet the knight whom he served taught him well and that fear was banished, if only for his need to prove himself. Though fear was rampant, it was simply channeling that fear into something useful that helped Havelock through. One such bloody battle saw Havelock grievously wounded as he sought to defend his knight, though unsuccessfully. The old knight fell and Havelock fell beside him, his warhammer clutched within his hand and a good few dead enemies scattered about them. Havelock later came to having found himself tended by monks from a nearby Abbey, a good few months passed as his wounds healed and his strength returned. Days were soon spent at a makeshift pell, whittling and hammering at the wood as he built up his strength and as evening came, said his prayers for his survival. And aided the monks anyway he could to repay them for their kindness, often aiding them in the informary where he first learned the art of healing. Simply watching, holding down patients and aiding the weak as best he could. Something that struck a chord within him.
Back home, healed and scarred and strong once more, Havelock resumed his training and was again squired to another hedge knight who had lost his squire during the Thirty Years War, a good friend of his father's. Training in horsemanship and arms began anew. Though he had taken to praying nightly for his survival, he wasn't by any means pious, a good few dalliances with a few of the local girls gave him something of a reputation, partly due to his social skills that had lingered despite their neglect. They were good times, the girls were plump and Havelock was youthful, had a few interesting scars to show and certainly had a liking for hay lofts. But there were the quiet times, spent in the garden, just tending to his mother's plants, sketching, taking time out and often getting slapped about the back of his head by the knight he served for his troubles. But he served well and sure enough, war came once again. Serving the Rose, the family his father served fought valiantly and yet the losses mounted as months wore on. More so as the family home was butchered by the Thorn's less reputable characters, the village burnt, the estate likewise put to the flame and it was only weeks later that Havelock and his father heard the news. Servants. Women and children. All lost to the sword. Such news ensured that Havelock threw himself against his enemies, numb and desiring only a swift end. But an end wouldn't come and Havelock found himself knighted upon the battlefield by his father's master on his twenty first birthday. Yet the numbness never abated. Gaunt, his eyes almost hollow, he sought only an end in battle and his nightly prayers became ever more fervent.
One battle saw Havelock struck to the ground and for a brief moment, he unnerved his enemy by smiling as he sunk to the ground. But even then bloodied and beaten, he found himself in the healers tent. Many more far worse than him bleeding, crying, screaming and wailing. The young knight pushed himself from his cot and amidst the confusion his state was barely noticed and remembering what he could of his time at the Abbey, he sought to aid his fellow soldiers. Comforting them and soothing them, holding down those in dire pain and aiding the healers as best he could in their duties. Till even he once again collapsed, refusing to rest for even a moment. His collapse was own to an injury that he simply hadn't felt, his own stubborness preventing it from being healed and only once he was unconscious was it found. Another grievous wound almost claimed him and his time was almost up. His life given for his comrades, though so wounded, Havelock found himself carted off with other soon to be lost souls to that monastery that had helped him regain his strength before. And so began his slow and painful return to good health. Weeks were spent in bed, in and out of consciousness. But as his fever broke and his strength slowly returned, he set about aiding the monks and helping his fellow soldiers. At first little more than carrying supplies, but as time passed and the war ravaged the land, Sir Havelock limped from bed to bed, learning about the human body, its frailties and how to treat and set such wounds. Blood and gore of the battlefield, was different to the hands on gore that often seeped between the fingers when trying to stem a bloody wound or worse. Yet Havelock took it upon himself to learn and for the first time in a good while, he learnt how to heal.
Yet as the war continued, his family and those they served were simply wiped out. A lineage snuffed through bloodletting, Havelock was set adrift. His health had returned. He had learnt how to repair bodies alongside his daily training whittling the pell, yet he couldn't return to war for there was little to serve, he knew that a good many others suffered, the villages they had passed through as he fought proved that. And so he sought to repay the One for saving him, his old destrier, his ragged and battered and much repaired armour polished and worn, has cast what few coins he had into the hands of the Prior and rode to the nearest Church. It was there that he professed his desire to serve as a Reliant. A homeless, itinerant hedge knight, stricken with grief and a desire to do only good. His prayers having become increasingly dedicated to the One, his piety stretching to even taking a vow of chastity… having sewn a good many wild oats. Giving himself entirely to the One, a fresh start. To aid the weak and protect them, for in war he saw little but bloodshed and the innocents were often caught within the middle of it all. Assigned to a Paladin, Havelock found himself stretched in both matters martial and spiritual and medical. From village to village he travelled, aiding the noble Paladin as he tended to his flock in the north, the cold weather hardened Havelock and though there were a few tempting maidens who offered warmth, he said his prayers, repented his impure thoughts and healed and provided succor. It was in the north that he learnt the barbarian tongue, managing enough over the year and a half to communicate well enough in the few rather peaceful run ins that they managed. A good many others lead to bloodshed. Though Havelock found himself to have quite the gift for learning a new tongue.
As the year of training progressed, Havelock's training further endured and his grasp of wouns of all sorts and causes and the effects they often had didn't phase the young knight at all. He found that even as others may baulk, he hardly batted an eyelid. Part of him put it down to the numbness war no doubt inflicted, another part of him praised the One for making him a better healer. For grasping those precious seconds to aid another and keep life flowing within them. Though their travels took them far and wide, Havelock relishing the journey as much as the learning which gave him purpose. For a good six months, Havelock and the Paladin toured and from the Paladin's own tomes, Havelock was able to seek to decipher the Imperial language. For it was impressed upon him that diplomacy was preferred, though righteous anger could and should be waged against those who seek to harm the defenceless, the less blood that was spilled, the better, and what better way to become that diplomat than to be prepared for any tongue and any test of ones piety. Though his faith was often tested, for even still war waged and the defenceless suffered. The peasantry often in dire need of their aid, and more than once the two stood shoulder to shoulder against those lesser men, looters and bandits who sought easy prey. Blood was spilled and prayers were said in equal measure. There was simply no talking to those so taken with such a foul path. Yet between villages, between encounters with the worst of humanity, Havelock still sought to learn. Aiding the worst wounds that war could levy upon the human body, to treasuring his time with the Paladin's tomes, ragged books long since given to the elements, small treasured possessions. His grasp of the Imperial tongue academic, but enough to perhaps pass.
And as it turned out, a year and a half the journey and Havelock's training took. War had ravaged the land and so their path often turned to those villages worst afflicted. Days and nights spent tending and offering succor, giving peace to those who had lost family and friends, and defending them against the worst such times had to offer. It was in the year 1863 that Sir Havelock Synn found himself an errant Knight Reliant. In service and dedication to the Church, his entire life pledged to such service, Sir Havelock swore himself to the Church in body and soul. And even as peace descended, Sir Havelock found that aid was ever more in need as bandits and looters sought to bring misery and death to villages that had only just started to recover. Travelling far and wide, to places that a good many might never see, Havelock brought his mission to those who needed aid. It was as he travelled, that he became a fair hand at repairs, aiding those with his strength in repairing homes and shelters. Guided by those with more knowledge, he grasped the concept, akin to healing a home. Cutting wood and hammering home a good many boards while slowly grasping his old knowledge of the garden. Its plants. And how to cultivate them. New knowledge built upon old. Though as the year 1866 dawned, Sir Havelock found his errantry noted by an Inquisitor, Nathaniel Tomas and the young knight's grasp of medicine and war was brought into the Inquisitor's retinue.
On the Grid
- Overview
- Physical Description
- Quirks and Personality
- Gallery
- Logs
- Memoirs
- History
- 500 Gold Crowns
- Notes
Well fought! You found a secret, and battle for the win. You healed others, despite your .. Synn. The blade you wield calls for death, but you heal others, perhaps it is your calling? Will you fall to the siren song of war and lose your way, or will you find healing, and perhaps, save the day?
Standing tall at six foot, his build is toned and firm. His blonde hair is a distinctly shaggy mess, with the locks falling where they may given the messy hairstyle tumbles about his ears, partially covering them to a degree. His lightly tanned features are handsome and his hazel eyes are bright and clear, while over them his thin dirty blonde eyebrows are arched. His nose juts lightly above his lips, lightly bearded as his features are, while his cheeks are defined and offer a certain wolfish appeal. His youth offers a healthy glow and only adds to that strength that is evident in his frame.
His strong figure is clad in armour, the heavy full plate just noticeable beneath the red warcoat that hangs heavy about his frame and bears the white Cross of the Reliants upon the front. His arms are protected by good chain with buckled plates atop, his hands by plated gloves and about his waist a thick leather belt is fastened and wrapped. Upon it a good many pouches hang, while against his left hip a sturdy looking warhammer is looped. Upon his back a sturdy red shield, painted with the white Cross of the Reliants is slung. The red warcoat falls about his legs, each protected by leather breeches, chain and full plate, while his feet are shod with thick plated boots, well worn and spurred.
Chaste - Havelock has given himself entirely to the One true faith. His mortal body and eternal soul at the mercy of the One. And though he might have the occasional thought that requires a penitent moment or two, he believes this offering gives him strength in his actions and his faith.
Skilled-Diplomat - Havelock has travelled far and wide, from the north to the east, the west and the south. And through it all he garnered a good grasp of the tongues that are used across the varied cultures. This and his desire for peace, his grasp of the language and his efforts in understanding others have gone a long way to aiding his diplomatic skills.
Unphased - Havelock has fought and seen much bloodshed in war and even worse in the healers tents. His desire to heal outweighs any horrific injury that he may gaze upon, he truly believes he has seen the worst that humanity can inflict upon itself. The sight of blood and gore does little to phase him.
Well-Traveled - Havelock has travelled. There are villages that some might never know exist that this Reliant has travelled to. Atop his horse, on foot, even on a wagon, Havelock has travelled, explored and offered succor to people so distant from cities and towns. The road has often been his place of worship.
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(bedivere brennart dertan event havelock kaedontourney75 log ludovic myrana philippa rowena tavi thomas tourney)
(bedivere bethany brennart dertan event havelock jarret kaedontourney75 log myrana rowena tavi tourney)
(bedivere brennart eisen elian event fallingbladetourney havelock jarret log myrana nicolas tavi tourney valeria)
(bethany brennart cervantes eisen event havelock imogen log qatunaxstories)
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- 1875-03-22: Proper Attire
- 1875-02-08: Opening of the Falling Blade Tourney
- 1875-02-05: Death of a Doctor
- 1874-06-06: A Reliant settles
- 1874-05-08: A Pledge Fulfilled
- 1874-05-03: The Reliant's Gift
- 1874-04-24: A letter from the field
- 1874-04-07: In the event of my untimely demise...
- 1873-12-15: Reliants in disarray
- 1873-05-30: Letter to Havelock
- 1868-Onwards: Death to the Doctor
- 1868-05-21: A letter to the Grand Master
- 1868-04-03: Reliant's Orders
- 1868-01-29: Aequorian Aftermath
- 1867-06-20: Whitehallers, Wenches and Wickedness
- 1867-03-28: A letter to the Cardinal
- 1867-02-27: The Lone Hospitaller
- 1866-09-10: The penance begins
- 1866-09-09: Five hundred crowns and one too many drinks
- 1866-07-06: Hallowed healing
18th Fevrier 1866 Havelock fights alongside the northerners on foot in their planned ambush of a barbarian raid. The ambush itself was a great success, much attributed to the trickery and command of His Grace, Duke Cesare al'Callenta. Though it is the Church that can claim a great act, for it was none other than the Bishop Nathaniel Al'Sylenthar who slayed the barbarian Chieftain with a single mighty blow no doubt guided by the One.
13th Marse 1866 During a scouting mission into the northern wastes, Havelock finds that the One does indeed work in mysterious ways. Unsure as to whether he'd call it a miracle or sheer good fortune, Havelock staunches the grievous wounds of Lady Nadine d'Cadri and saves the arm of Lord Michael al'Callenta during a less than effective ambush by barbarians. Once the battle is over, Sir Havelock is spoken of as 'The Penitent'.
10th Mai 1866 Havelock serves alongside the Aequorian forces and together they see the Relief of Rias and end the city's occupation.
4th Juillet 1866 Havelock is at the Battle of Unterfjal and sees the occupation of Gendiel bought to an end. A few new scars, odd as they may seem join his array of scars from previous campaigns.
29th Aout 1866 Havelock wins the Kentaire melee and is awarded a light silver arming dagger of intricate and artistic design and five hundred gold crowns.
9th Septembre 1866 Havelock comes third in the Kentaire obstacle course and is thus proclaimed 'Champion of the West' once the points are tallied. Sir Havelock is awarded a sidhe steel blade for his efforts and he later names this blade 'Judgement'.
The Sealing of Rikton Sir Havelock Synn and his fellow Reliants find themselves declared Heretics and cast out from the One Faith after refusing to hand over the Grand Master to the Templars. To compound the troubles Havelock does find himself also accused of murdering an Inquisitor and thus Havelock escapes to Four Corners.
27th Fevrier 1867 Sir Havelock Synn sets up a Hospital deep within the slums to aid those in need of succor and treatment.
5th Juillet 1867 It is a random encounter that further draws Havelock and a good many others deeper into the troubles that beset the world. Thwarting the Cardinal's men who have settled within Four Corners to aid with recent troubles, in helping a troubled arrival escape their clutches.
22nd Novembre 1867 Having been helped defend Fiorello during the Siege of Rosa castle, Havelock is rewarded with a rare gift by Viscount Adriono d'Armaz. Havlock is given his laurels, while laurels would be etched into his helm, the laurels themselves bequeath the title of Doctor upon Havelock. A title of learning, compassion and knowledge.
6th Juin 1874 Having been pardoned by the Church of Rikton, Sir Havelock Synn was granted lands for his service to the Church. It is upon these lands that Havelock settles for a time, stewarding those upon them, and tending to those who serve him.
5th Fevrier 1875 Havelock feigns his own death, allowing him to escape into obscurity. Though he informs the Vigilants, all others assume the good Doctor to be dead. It is under this guise (using the name Penn), that Havelock goes monster hunting. Looking every bit the itinerant hedge knight, Havelock blends in well and travels as and where his mission takes him.
Date | Total | Outgoings | Log | Remaining Crowns |
1866-09-08 | +500 Crowns | — | Obstacle Course | 500 |
1866-09-09 | 500 Crowns | 1 Crown | Drinkies | 499 Crowns |
1866-09-10 | 499 Crowns | 65 Crowns | Penance | 434 Crowns |
1866-09-12 | 434 Crowns | 40 Crowns | Purchases via +request | 394 Crowns |
— | — | — | 2 Lightsilver Warhammers + Sundries | — |
1868-05-21 | 394 Crowns | 2 Crowns | The Brawl of the Bluff | 392 Crowns |
1875-02 -05 | 392 Crowns | 344 Crowns | Death of a Doctor | 50 Crowns |
Alongside his usual poultices and bandages, Havelock has a pot of Lady's Mercy, with enough of the mix for four uses. Obtained after the 'massacre' at Mothrose. (USED Three doses given to Dertan for Helena, and a dose for Jarret & Lysette's child)
Relationships
Lion o' the North : A most fierce warrior, to see him wade into battle and roar is indeed a fine sight. |
The Squire : A young squire who stands firm against these barbarians, there is perhaps no more harsh a place to earn those spurs than the north against such a foe. |
Devout : A man who rallies those about him, for he stands firm against all threats. |
The Scouting Squire : A skilled scout and a skilled warrior, I have no doubt that the north will earn him his spurs. |
The Baron : A hardy warrior who is able to take great punishment on the field and gives even greater to those who stand against him. |