Gairn the Holy Knight, Archon of Valour
Gairn created on 01st of July 2017, and is currently 22 years old (115 hours played).

Title: the Holy Knight, Archon of Valour
Gender: Male
Level: 50
Class: human paladin

Background history:

  1. A strange family. - posted at 2017-07-12 20:51:41
A strange family.
Gairn Beirst an only child, raised in a far away village, across a vast ocean, was aware that his family was different. Strange even. The little community of fisherman to which he belonged seldom dealt well with the strange, but he and his family were tolerated. It was for his grandmother, Sarah's sake, Gairn knew this. She had been at the center of a great miracle, at around the same age as Gairn's own, five or so. Despite the cautious celebrity of his grandmother, each member of the family since that fateful day could do things that were only described as mystical, or magic. Being a people of small means, such magic was foreign to them and so they held it in a fearful awe. As is the way with such things, things that scare the community are out casted or shunned. It was not until his own birth, that the villagers and even his own family understood the reason for these seeming abilities. When Sarah was touched by the boy who had injured her and healed in that way, the God of Storms had put inside of her and her lineage a powerful gift. The villagers, of course, would not have described it so. They would have said a strange spell had been placed upon the family and now they were blessed, or cursed, with gifts. The custom of his village was such that around the fifth year of life, children were placed with those who knew a profession. Fisherman, net mender, boat captain and the like. For Gairn it was different. He was sent away, as the boy a generation ago had been, to study and fulfill an obligation. The villagers only knew, that the strange boy with the intense stare would be gone from among them, until the next time the Storm blew home.


Description:

He is a solemn looking man, his dark brown eyes gather his surroundings with a measured sweep, as if he is categorizing each individual thing he looks upon, filing it away and moving to the next. Upon his head is a thick curled mass of sun-lightened hair, the longest portion of which is pulled back into a warriors knot. The exposed skin of his body is dark, from long days out of doors and it has taken its toll upon the skin of his face, which bears scars and wrinkles, a historical manuscript, if one could only read it. The frame of his body is long, bordering on the lanky. He is muscled, of that there is no doubt, but it seems to be of a tendon strength, rather than the strength of bulging muscles. As he walks, it is with a grace, though hobbled by the certain bow legged nature of a horseman.


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