RPC Library - User contributions [en]

Perceval Greystone

2019-07-25T02:10:32Z

DerFalkenlied: Blanked the page

Perceval Greystone

2019-05-31T05:06:16Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Back story */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of fiery red hair. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with more bulk on him than the average Elezen, yet still allowing him to hold fast to his agility

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

[[File:Perceval Greystone.jpg|thumb|right|A look at Perceval's physique and the scars marring his entire backside in the intricate engraving carved into his flesh.]]

== Back story ==

Born and raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of a highborn heretic. A regular partaker of dragonsblood for the high it would give him, Perceval's blood father, Armalouix, went to a whorehouse one evening, and with enough gil and rampant lust, a child was conceived. After being born, the whorehouse had no need for a child, let alone a boy, setting him out on the frigid back streets to die mercilessly, the infant unknowingly cursed with the mistakes of his father, each and every heartbeat resounding the echo of it in his frail newborn body. Found near instantly by a swiftly moving Highlander, Amoux, scooped up the child and took him to his quiet and empty home, attempting to raise and care for the boy, naming him Perceval the Hawk, for his piercing blue eyes, one of the few traits he did not inherit from his bastard father, as he proceeded to grow up rather well, but not without its twists and turns for a single, inexperienced parent. Luckily, Amoux had inherited a tavern from his own father, a low-to-the-ground establishment with a reputation for hearty food and decent drink, where he was able to raise and house his new child. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music and a smile to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what funds he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy, with the few employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, Perceval and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart, traumatizing the Elezen for life. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. One day, after work, Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. He was practically a clone, an identical mirror of this man in his younger years. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpse of one adult, an elderly man rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for release from his care and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree nearly three weeks later. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the polar bear with all that time ago, to pierce the eye and brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for food, learning, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a roundabout hunter and survivor.

One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly attributed to insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming, melodic and soft- this song- changed depending on situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the world around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him, showing him the possibilities of opening his ears and embracing the simple sounds of nature into his own melody.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his skills with bow, song, and agility steady and constantly growing; now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his wild and ragged appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and filthy red hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and watch over him for formal judgment, and so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', a short-hand term for the Ishgardian word for 'precision', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship, much to even his own suprise (He was certain the Archer's guild master creamed in her pants). Conscripting him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and to get rid of a problem, Perceval made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth and a better life. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end was put to good use, all the while refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, meanwhile becoming a hit with the local ladies with his handsome visage.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's fiancée.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]

[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Miscellaneous==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

"Never hide behind the shield of the meek, for those who inherit the world never fought for it. Never wear your heart on your sleeve, for those who bear their weakness are sure to fall. Balance yourselfs, summer children, and know your many faces. Steel yourselfs, summer children, and weight your heart and life accordingly" is one of his favorite quotes from an old man in the Brume

Perceval Greystone

2019-05-20T01:42:42Z

DerFalkenlied:

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of fiery red hair. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with more bulk on him than the average Elezen, yet still allowing him to hold fast to his agility

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

[[File:Perceval Greystone.jpg|thumb|right|A look at Perceval's physique and the scars marring his entire backside in the intricate engraving carved into his flesh.]]

== Back story ==

Born and raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of a highborn heretic. A regular partaker of dragonsblood for the high it would give him, Perceval's blood father, Armalouix, went to a whorehouse one evening, and with enough gil and rampant lust, a child was conceived. After being born, the whorehouse had no need for a child, let alone a boy, setting him out on the frigid back streets to die mercilessly, the infant unknowingly cursed with the mistakes of his father, each and every heartbeat resounding the echo of it in his frail newborn body. Found near instantly by a swiftly moving Highlander, Amoux, scooped up the child and took him to his quiet and empty home, attempting to raise and care for the boy, naming him Perceval the Hawk, for his piercing blue eyes, one of the few traits he did not inherit from his bastard father, as he proceeded to grow up rather well, but not without its twists and turns for a single, inexperienced parent. Luckily, Amoux had inherited a tavern from his own father, a low-to-the-ground establishment with a reputation for hearty food and decent drink, where he was able to raise and house his new child. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music and a smile to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what funds he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy, with the few employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, Perceval and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart, traumatizing the Elezen for life. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. One day, after work, Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. He was practically a clone, an identical mirror of this man in his younger years. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for release from his care and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree nearly three weeks later. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the polar bear with all that time ago, to pierce the eye and brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for food, learning, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a roundabout hunter and survivor.

One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly attributed to insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming, melodic and soft- this song- changed depending on situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the world around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him, showing him the possibilities of opening his ears and embracing the simple sounds of nature into his own melody.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his skills with bow, song, and agility steady and constantly growing; now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his wild and ragged appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and filthy red hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and watch over him for formal judgment, and so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', a short-hand term for the Ishgardian word for 'precision', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship, much to even his own suprise (He was certain the Archer's guild master creamed in her pants). Conscripting him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and to get rid of a problem, Perceval made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth and a better life. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end was put to good use, all the while refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, meanwhile becoming a hit with the local ladies with his handsome visage.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's fiancée.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]

[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Miscellaneous==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

"Never hide behind the shield of the meek, for those who inherit the world never fought for it. Never wear your heart on your sleeve, for those who bear their weakness are sure to fall. Balance yourselfs, summer children, and know your many faces. Steel yourselfs, summer children, and weight your heart and life accordingly" is one of his favorite quotes from an old man in the Brume

Perceval Greystone

2019-05-17T05:06:37Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Relationships */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of fiery red hair. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with more bulk on him than the average Elezen, yet still allowing him to hold fast to his agility

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

[[File:Perceval Greystone.jpg|thumb|right|A look at Perceval's physique and the scars marring his entire backside in the intricate engraving carved into his flesh.]]

== Back story ==

Born and raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of a highborn heretic. A regular partaker of dragonsblood for the high it would give him, Perceval's blood father, Armalouix, went to a whorehouse one evening, and with enough gil and rampant lust, a child was conceived. After being born, the whorehouse had no need for a child, let alone a boy, setting him out on the frigid back streets to die mercilessly, the infant unknowingly cursed with the mistakes of his father, each and every heartbeat resounding the echo of it in his frail newborn body. Found near instantly by a swiftly moving Highlander, Amoux, scooped up the child and took him to his quiet and empty home, attempting to raise and care for the boy, naming him Perceval the Hawk, for his piercing blue eyes, one of the few traits he did not inherit from his bastard father, as he proceeded to grow up rather well, but not without its twists and turns for a single, inexperienced parent. Luckily, Amoux had inherited a tavern from his own father, a low-to-the-ground establishment with a reputation for hearty food and decent drink, where he was able to raise and house his new child. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music and a smile to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what funds he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy, with the few employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, Perceval and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart, traumatizing the Elezen for life. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. One day, after work, Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. He was practically a clone, an identical mirror of this man in his younger years. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for release from his care and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree nearly three weeks later. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the polar bear with all that time ago, to pierce the eye and brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for food, learning, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a roundabout hunter and survivor.

One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly attributed to insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming, melodic and soft- this song- changed depending on situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the world around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him, showing him the possibilities of opening his ears and embracing the simple sounds of nature into his own melody.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his skills with bow, song, and agility steady and constantly growing; now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his wild and ragged appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and filthy red hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and watch over him for formal judgment, and so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', a short-hand term for the Ishgardian word for 'precision', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship, much to even his own suprise (He was certain the Archer's guild master creamed in her pants). Conscripting him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and to get rid of a problem, Perceval made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth and a better life. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end was put to good use, all the while refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, meanwhile becoming a hit with the local ladies with his handsome visage.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's fiancée.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]

[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Fun Facts==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

Precis Transvaal

2019-04-18T04:26:51Z

DerFalkenlied:

Please see- https://wiki.ffxiv-roleplayers.com/pages/Perceval_Greystone

Precis Transvaal

2019-04-18T04:26:24Z

DerFalkenlied: Blanked the page

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-15T04:50:33Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Back story */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of fiery red hair. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with more bulk on him than the average Elezen, yet still allowing him to hold fast to his agility

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

[[File:Perceval Greystone.jpg|thumb|right|A look at Perceval's physique and the scars marring his entire backside in the intricate engraving carved into his flesh.]]

== Back story ==

Born and raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of a highborn heretic. A regular partaker of dragonsblood for the high it would give him, Perceval's blood father, Armalouix, went to a whorehouse one evening, and with enough gil and rampant lust, a child was conceived. After being born, the whorehouse had no need for a child, let alone a boy, setting him out on the frigid back streets to die mercilessly, the infant unknowingly cursed with the mistakes of his father, each and every heartbeat resounding the echo of it in his frail newborn body. Found near instantly by a swiftly moving Highlander, Amoux, scooped up the child and took him to his quiet and empty home, attempting to raise and care for the boy, naming him Perceval the Hawk, for his piercing blue eyes, one of the few traits he did not inherit from his bastard father, as he proceeded to grow up rather well, but not without its twists and turns for a single, inexperienced parent. Luckily, Amoux had inherited a tavern from his own father, a low-to-the-ground establishment with a reputation for hearty food and decent drink, where he was able to raise and house his new child. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music and a smile to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what funds he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy, with the few employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, Perceval and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart, traumatizing the Elezen for life. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. One day, after work, Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. He was practically a clone, an identical mirror of this man in his younger years. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for release from his care and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree nearly three weeks later. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the polar bear with all that time ago, to pierce the eye and brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for food, learning, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a roundabout hunter and survivor.

One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly attributed to insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming, melodic and soft- this song- changed depending on situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the world around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him, showing him the possibilities of opening his ears and embracing the simple sounds of nature into his own melody.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his skills with bow, song, and agility steady and constantly growing; now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his wild and ragged appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and filthy red hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and watch over him for formal judgment, and so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', a short-hand term for the Ishgardian word for 'precision', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship, much to even his own suprise (He was certain the Archer's guild master creamed in her pants). Conscripting him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and to get rid of a problem, Perceval made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth and a better life. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end was put to good use, all the while refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, meanwhile becoming a hit with the local ladies with his handsome visage.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]

[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Fun Facts==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-15T04:49:43Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Back story */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of fiery red hair. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with more bulk on him than the average Elezen, yet still allowing him to hold fast to his agility

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

[[File:Perceval Greystone.jpg|thumb|right|A look at Perceval's physique and the scars marring his entire backside in the intricate engraving carved into his flesh.]]

== Back story ==

Born and raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of a highborn heretic. A regular partaker of dragonsblood for the high it would give him, Perceval's blood father, Armalouix, went to a whorehouse one evening, and with enough gil and rampant lust, a child was conceived. After being born, the whorehouse had no need for a child, let alone a boy, setting him out on the frigid back streets to die mercilessly, with, unknowingly cursed with the mistakes of his father, each and every heartbeat resounding the echo of it in his frail newborn body. Found near instantly by a swiftly moving Highlander, Amoux, scooped up the child and took him to his quiet and empty home, attempting to raise and care for the boy, naming him Perceval the Hawk, for his piercing blue eyes, one of the few traits he did not inherit from his bastard father, as he proceeded to grow up rather well, but not without its twists and turns for a single, inexperienced parent. Luckily, Amoux had inherited a tavern from his own father, a low-to-the-ground establishment with a reputation for hearty food and decent drink, where he was able to raise and house his new child. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music and a smile to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what funds he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy, with the few employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, Perceval and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart, traumatizing the Elezen for life. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. One day, after work, Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. He was practically a clone, an identical mirror of this man in his younger years. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for release from his care and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree nearly three weeks later. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the polar bear with all that time ago, to pierce the eye and brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for food, learning, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a roundabout hunter and survivor.

One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly attributed to insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming, melodic and soft- this song- changed depending on situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the world around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him, showing him the possibilities of opening his ears and embracing the simple sounds of nature into his own melody.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his skills with bow, song, and agility steady and constantly growing; now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his wild and ragged appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and filthy red hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and watch over him for formal judgment, and so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', a short-hand term for the Ishgardian word for 'precision', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship, much to even his own suprise (He was certain the Archer's guild master creamed in her pants). Conscripting him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and to get rid of a problem, Perceval made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth and a better life. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end was put to good use, all the while refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, meanwhile becoming a hit with the local ladies with his handsome visage.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]

[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Fun Facts==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-13T05:01:23Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Appearance */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of fiery red hair. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with more bulk on him than the average Elezen, yet still allowing him to hold fast to his agility

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

[[File:Perceval Greystone.jpg|thumb|right|A look at Perceval's physique and the scars marring his entire backside in the intricate engraving carved into his flesh.]]

== Back story ==

Born and raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of a highborn heretic. A regular partaker of dragonsblood for the high it would give him, Perceval's blood father, Armalouix, went to a whorehouse one evening, and with enough gil and rampant lust, a child was conceived. After being born, the whorehouse had no need for a child, let alone a boy, setting him out on the frigid back streets to die mercilessly, with, unknowingly cursed with the mistakes of his father, each and every heartbeat resounding the echo of it in his frail newborn body. Found near instantly by a swiftly moving second generation Ala Mhigan immigrant, Amoux, scooped up the child and took him to his quiet and empty home, attempting to raise and care for the boy, naming him Perceval the Hawk, for his piercing blue eyes, one of the few traits he did not inherit from his bastard father, as he proceeded to grow up rather well, but not without its twists and turns for a single, inexperienced parent. Luckily, Amoux had inherited a tavern from his own father, a low-to-the-ground establishment with a reputation for hearty food and decent drink, where he was able to raise and house his new child. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music and a smile to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what funds he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy, with the few employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, Perceval and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart, traumatizing the Elezen for life. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. One day, after work, Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. He was practically a clone, an identical mirror of this man in his younger years. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for release from his care and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree nearly three weeks later. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the polar bear with all that time ago, to pierce the eye and brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for food, learning, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a roundabout hunter and survivor.

One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly attributed to insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming, melodic and soft- this song- changed depending on situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the world around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him, showing him the possibilities of opening his ears and embracing the simple sounds of nature into his own melody.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his skills with bow, song, and agility steady and constantly growing; now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his wild and ragged appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and filthy red hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and watch over him for formal judgment, and so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', a short-hand term for the Ishgardian word for 'precision', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship, much to even his own suprise (He was certain the Archer's guild master creamed in her pants). Conscripting him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and to get rid of a problem, Perceval made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth and a better life. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end was put to good use, all the while refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, meanwhile becoming a hit with the local ladies with his handsome visage.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]

[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Fun Facts==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

File:Perceval Greystone.jpg

2019-04-13T04:57:09Z

DerFalkenlied:

A brief look at the scars engraved and marred into his back, along with an idea of his Highlander-esque physique

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-13T04:55:16Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Back story */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of fiery red hair. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with more bulk on him than the average Elezen, yet still allowing him to hold fast to his agility

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Born and raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of a highborn heretic. A regular partaker of dragonsblood for the high it would give him, Perceval's blood father, Armalouix, went to a whorehouse one evening, and with enough gil and rampant lust, a child was conceived. After being born, the whorehouse had no need for a child, let alone a boy, setting him out on the frigid back streets to die mercilessly, with, unknowingly cursed with the mistakes of his father, each and every heartbeat resounding the echo of it in his frail newborn body. Found near instantly by a swiftly moving second generation Ala Mhigan immigrant, Amoux, scooped up the child and took him to his quiet and empty home, attempting to raise and care for the boy, naming him Perceval the Hawk, for his piercing blue eyes, one of the few traits he did not inherit from his bastard father, as he proceeded to grow up rather well, but not without its twists and turns for a single, inexperienced parent. Luckily, Amoux had inherited a tavern from his own father, a low-to-the-ground establishment with a reputation for hearty food and decent drink, where he was able to raise and house his new child. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music and a smile to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what funds he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy, with the few employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, Perceval and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart, traumatizing the Elezen for life. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. One day, after work, Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. He was practically a clone, an identical mirror of this man in his younger years. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for release from his care and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree nearly three weeks later. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the polar bear with all that time ago, to pierce the eye and brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for food, learning, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a roundabout hunter and survivor.

One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly attributed to insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming, melodic and soft- this song- changed depending on situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the world around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him, showing him the possibilities of opening his ears and embracing the simple sounds of nature into his own melody.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his skills with bow, song, and agility steady and constantly growing; now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his wild and ragged appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and filthy red hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and watch over him for formal judgment, and so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', a short-hand term for the Ishgardian word for 'precision', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship, much to even his own suprise (He was certain the Archer's guild master creamed in her pants). Conscripting him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and to get rid of a problem, Perceval made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth and a better life. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end was put to good use, all the while refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, meanwhile becoming a hit with the local ladies with his handsome visage.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]

[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Fun Facts==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-13T04:38:31Z

DerFalkenlied:

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of fiery red hair. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with more bulk on him than the average Elezen, yet still allowing him to hold fast to his agility

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Born and raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lord-ling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Perceval. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy, with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, Perceval and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart, traumatizing him for life. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. One day, after work, Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. He was practically a clone, an identical mirror of this man in his younger years. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for release from his care and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree nearly three weeks later. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the polar bear with all that time ago, to pierce the eye and brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for food, learning, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a roundabout hunter and survivor.

One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly attributed to insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming, melodic and soft- this song- changed depending on situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the world around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him, showing him the possibilities of opening his ears and embracing the simple sounds of nature into his own melody.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his skills with bow, song, and agility steady and constantly growing; now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his wild and ragged appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and filthy red hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and watch over him for formal judgment, and so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', a short-hand term for the Ishgardian word for 'precision', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship, much to even his own suprise (He was certain the Archer's guild master creamed in her pants). Conscripting him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and to get rid of a problem, Perceval made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth and a better life. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end was put to good use, all the while refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, meanwhile becoming a hit with the local ladies with his handsome visage.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]

[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Fun Facts==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-10T23:34:37Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Back story */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of fiery red hair. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with more bulk on him than the average Elezen, yet still allowing him to hold fast to his agility

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Born and raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lord-ling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Perceval. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage.

Eventually, Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals, found Perceval and forcefully took him under his tutelage. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, begin to find other of their type, and slowly begin to amass a team of sorts. Eventually, however, like most things, they'd part as Perceval learned all he could, and began to seek a life of less violence and combat.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]

[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Fun Facts==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-10T00:44:33Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Appearance */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of fiery red hair. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with more bulk on him than the average Elezen, yet still allowing him to hold fast to his agility

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lord-ling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Perceval. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage.

Eventually, Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals, found Perceval and forcefully took him under his tutelage. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, begin to find other of their type, and slowly begin to amass a team of sorts. Eventually, however, like most things, they'd part as Perceval learned all he could, and began to seek a life of less violence and combat.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]

[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Fun Facts==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-10T00:41:42Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Other Notes */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself on.

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lord-ling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Perceval. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage.

Eventually, Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals, found Perceval and forcefully took him under his tutelage. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, begin to find other of their type, and slowly begin to amass a team of sorts. Eventually, however, like most things, they'd part as Perceval learned all he could, and began to seek a life of less violence and combat.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]

[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Fun Facts==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-10T00:41:25Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Fun Facts */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself on.

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lord-ling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Perceval. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage.

Eventually, Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals, found Perceval and forcefully took him under his tutelage. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, begin to find other of their type, and slowly begin to amass a team of sorts. Eventually, however, like most things, they'd part as Perceval learned all he could, and began to seek a life of less violence and combat.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]
[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]
[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Fun Facts==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon

Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons

He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-10T00:41:16Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Other Notes */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself on.

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lord-ling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Perceval. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage.

Eventually, Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals, found Perceval and forcefully took him under his tutelage. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, begin to find other of their type, and slowly begin to amass a team of sorts. Eventually, however, like most things, they'd part as Perceval learned all he could, and began to seek a life of less violence and combat.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Themes: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]
[https://youtu.be/xkZ0x3LuH6A Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter]
[https://youtu.be/wsYP1VjOSX8 Hidden Citizens- Casualty]

==Fun Facts==
He loves a good whiskey or bourbon
Perceval is a fan of the Qalli for obvious reasons
He's got a penchant for cooking good hearty foods

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-10T00:35:18Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Relationships */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself on.

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lord-ling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Perceval. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage.

Eventually, Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals, found Perceval and forcefully took him under his tutelage. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, begin to find other of their type, and slowly begin to amass a team of sorts. Eventually, however, like most things, they'd part as Perceval learned all he could, and began to seek a life of less violence and combat.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers, who hired him to help to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Theme: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-10T00:34:39Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Back story */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself on.

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lord-ling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Perceval. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage.

Eventually, Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals, found Perceval and forcefully took him under his tutelage. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, begin to find other of their type, and slowly begin to amass a team of sorts. Eventually, however, like most things, they'd part as Perceval learned all he could, and began to seek a life of less violence and combat.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Theme: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-10T00:33:52Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Back story */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself on.

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lord-ling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Perceval. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Name-day came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Perceval was out purchasing some whetstones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put the money to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the unmistakable imagery of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the a mark of heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die.

Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with a lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy.

Recuperating for three months, he worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him.

Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage.

Eventually, Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals, found Perceval and forcefully took him under his tutelage. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, begin to find other of their type, and slowly begin to amass a team of sorts. Eventually, however, like most things, they'd part as Perceval learned all he could, and began to seek a life of less violence and combat.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Theme: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-10T00:29:12Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Relationships */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself on.

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lordling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Perceval. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Nameday came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Perceval was out purchasing some whetsones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put it to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an axe cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the head of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the Brand of Heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die. Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy. He recuperated for three months, and worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him. Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage.

Eventually, Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals, found Perceval and forcefully took him under his tutelage. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, begin to find other of their type, and slowly begin to amass a team of sorts. Eventually, however, like most things, they'd part as Perceval learned all he could, and began to seek a life of less violence and combat.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Perceval's lover.

Lederic Haragin: A strong-willed, bland Xaela who holds immense prowess in the Hunt, one of his employers to seek out and eliminate, in one way or another, the man known only as 'Mister Provolone', a terrifying figure in the underworld of Ul'dah.

Ardent Tempest: Shield brother and once-tutor in the ways of combat and free-spirited aetheric manipulation

Lynette Sakumi: Hunter and friend of Lederic, little is known of this Xaelic woman to him other than her tendency to be bitchy

Vortigern Du'lupus: A paladin he met through both Tempest and Lederic with their investigation of 'Mister Provolone'

Mikha Namaliyo: A knife-wielding traitorous pirate in the eyes of Perceval, someone who needs to find the wrong end of a blade in their stomach for her deeds and actions

Greg Goldenhands: A god amongst men, companion of the Warrior of Light, master of all forms of warcraft and spellcraft known possible, and CEO of all of the gil-banks around the Star

== Other Notes ==

Theme: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-10T00:17:16Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Back story */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself on.

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lordling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Perceval. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Perceval excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Nameday came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Perceval's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Perceval was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Perceval was out purchasing some whetsones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put it to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an axe cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the head of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the Brand of Heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die. Perceval, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy. He recuperated for three months, and worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him. Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of 'Precis', now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage.

Eventually, Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals, found Perceval and forcefully took him under his tutelage. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, begin to find other of their type, and slowly begin to amass a team of sorts. Eventually, however, like most things, they'd part as Perceval learned all he could, and began to seek a life of less violence and combat.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Precis/Artouix's metaphorical goddess. He spoils her beyond hope and reason, and she protests innocently against it all to no avail.

Beralda of The Valkyries : A fierce winged warrior woman who believes she'd saved him in a past life from the struggle across the wastes of Coerthas. Having no other reference for his past, he believes this, and they're currently engaged in a bond of warrior-hood. She's proved to be a good friend, and one hell of a warrior to fight alongside.

== Other Notes ==

Theme: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

Perceval Greystone

2019-04-10T00:08:31Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Appearance */

== Appearance ==

Percy stands at a staggering 6'10". Handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself on.

He's typically seen clad in plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great-sword over-shoulder, and a brace of daggers on his hip.

Opposite of that is his more agile gear, a light cloak that drapes his form, with low-cut boots and padded leather trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and clothing to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lordling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Artouix. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Precis/Artouix excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Nameday came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Precis'/Artouix's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Precis/Artouix was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Precis/Artouix was out purchasing some whetsones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put it to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an axe cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the head of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the Brand of Heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die. Artouix/Precis, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy. He recuperated for three months, and worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him. Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of Precis, now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage. He then met a Qestir and fell in love with her over the course of a month, in which it was a mutually returned feeling, and they became official. Shortly thereafter, around two months so, he joined her on a job to eliminate some voidsent occupying some ruins, and was possessed without the knowledge of those around him, leaving him trapped to suffer in his own mind-scape for six months, in which the voidsent made his life a living hell, destroying his friendships, relationship and everything he held dear was lost, even stressing out his now-fiancee to the point of miscarriage , eventually making his body attempt suicide, but failing due to the efforts of a friend.

Post-Possession, he'd take a few weeks to regather himself, before leaving his fiancee behind after realizing nothing could reconsile them truly, as she'd faded from the woman he once loved into something his considered depraved. She'd already chosen another man who'd previously blown his leg off of Precis' own body while possessed, which was later regenerated by a blessed Xaela of Azim, the Sun God of The Steppe. During these harsh weeks, where he pushed himself to his limit over and over again to cope with the mental pain, he meets with a Roegadyn called Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, in search of wealth and a bit of glory, set off on a job together one day to clear off something blocking a trade route. Lo and behold, it's a large Wyrm, reanimated by otherworldy forces which they barely manage to kill and exorcise, nearly dying themselves in the process of fighting such a being. Precis/Artouix in a sparing thought, harvests the eye of the wyrm, and after cleaning it of voidal energies with the assistance of Tempest, is struck by the consciousness of the great beast. It seems that the strength of dragons was not to be underestimated, as the wyrm introduced herself as Yrventh the Kind, and later, offered Precis/Artouix herself as a being to fuse with, in hopes of reuniting Man and Dragon like days of eld. He accepted unconditionally, and the fusion nearly ended his life, if not for the wisdom of his partner in assisting him in withstanding the transformative properties of dragon-aether on Ishgardians. Weeks later, on Precis/Artouix's twenty-fourth nameday, he'd attempt to celebrate for the first time since his father's death, which sends him into a terrible mood, only resuscitated by his brother-in-arms Tempest, and his lover, Nanama Kha, a local detective whom he'd unwittingly fallen for, and she him, in a matter of circumstance, luck, and both of them being in a terrible spot in life. Tempest, dragging Precis/Artouix to the Sea of Clouds, unknowingly awoke something in the Bardic Warrior, as his dragon companion blessed him with her grace and power, bestowing upon him blue-steel and platinum colored scales, and befitting wings to match, as they slowly fused into a single mind, the Dragon Mother becoming his guardian of spirit, and Precis/Artouix himself becoming embodiment. He now works today as a simple beast hunter and part time inspector with his loved and loving partner Nanama in the city of Ul'dah, awaiting the next curveball of fate as he enjoys what he's regained.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Precis/Artouix's metaphorical goddess. He spoils her beyond hope and reason, and she protests innocently against it all to no avail.

Beralda of The Valkyries : A fierce winged warrior woman who believes she'd saved him in a past life from the struggle across the wastes of Coerthas. Having no other reference for his past, he believes this, and they're currently engaged in a bond of warrior-hood. She's proved to be a good friend, and one hell of a warrior to fight alongside.

== Other Notes ==

Theme: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

Perceval Greystone

2019-03-08T05:36:38Z

DerFalkenlied:

== Appearance ==

A towering mass of Elezen flesh, Precis stands at a staggering 6'10". His handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself
on. Underneath his usual dark-clad thick armor sit scales of a blue-steel and platinum color, hard and Draconian in nature, adorning his flesh in a matter similar to that of Au'ra.

He's typically seen clad in Shire plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great sword on one hip, a quiver on the other, and his bow strung on his back.
Opposite of that is more agile gear, a light Shire cloak that drapes to his calves, with low-cut boots and padded gambeson trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and suit to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

Raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lordling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Artouix. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Precis/Artouix excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Nameday came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Precis'/Artouix's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Precis/Artouix was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Precis/Artouix was out purchasing some whetsones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put it to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an axe cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the head of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the Brand of Heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die. Artouix/Precis, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy. He recuperated for three months, and worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him. Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of Precis, now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage. He then met a Qestir and fell in love with her over the course of a month, in which it was a mutually returned feeling, and they became official. Shortly thereafter, around two months so, he joined her on a job to eliminate some voidsent occupying some ruins, and was possessed without the knowledge of those around him, leaving him trapped to suffer in his own mind-scape for six months, in which the voidsent made his life a living hell, destroying his friendships, relationship and everything he held dear was lost, even stressing out his now-fiancee to the point of miscarriage , eventually making his body attempt suicide, but failing due to the efforts of a friend.

Post-Possession, he'd take a few weeks to regather himself, before leaving his fiancee behind after realizing nothing could reconsile them truly, as she'd faded from the woman he once loved into something his considered depraved. She'd already chosen another man who'd previously blown his leg off of Precis' own body while possessed, which was later regenerated by a blessed Xaela of Azim, the Sun God of The Steppe. During these harsh weeks, where he pushed himself to his limit over and over again to cope with the mental pain, he meets with a Roegadyn called Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, in search of wealth and a bit of glory, set off on a job together one day to clear off something blocking a trade route. Lo and behold, it's a large Wyrm, reanimated by otherworldy forces which they barely manage to kill and exorcise, nearly dying themselves in the process of fighting such a being. Precis/Artouix in a sparing thought, harvests the eye of the wyrm, and after cleaning it of voidal energies with the assistance of Tempest, is struck by the consciousness of the great beast. It seems that the strength of dragons was not to be underestimated, as the wyrm introduced herself as Yrventh the Kind, and later, offered Precis/Artouix herself as a being to fuse with, in hopes of reuniting Man and Dragon like days of eld. He accepted unconditionally, and the fusion nearly ended his life, if not for the wisdom of his partner in assisting him in withstanding the transformative properties of dragon-aether on Ishgardians. Weeks later, on Precis/Artouix's twenty-fourth nameday, he'd attempt to celebrate for the first time since his father's death, which sends him into a terrible mood, only resuscitated by his brother-in-arms Tempest, and his lover, Nanama Kha, a local detective whom he'd unwittingly fallen for, and she him, in a matter of circumstance, luck, and both of them being in a terrible spot in life. Tempest, dragging Precis/Artouix to the Sea of Clouds, unknowingly awoke something in the Bardic Warrior, as his dragon companion blessed him with her grace and power, bestowing upon him blue-steel and platinum colored scales, and befitting wings to match, as they slowly fused into a single mind, the Dragon Mother becoming his guardian of spirit, and Precis/Artouix himself becoming embodiment. He now works today as a simple beast hunter and part time inspector with his loved and loving partner Nanama in the city of Ul'dah, awaiting the next curveball of fate as he enjoys what he's regained.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Precis/Artouix's metaphorical goddess. He spoils her beyond hope and reason, and she protests innocently against it all to no avail.

Beralda of The Valkyries : A fierce winged warrior woman who believes she'd saved him in a past life from the struggle across the wastes of Coerthas. Having no other reference for his past, he believes this, and they're currently engaged in a bond of warrior-hood. She's proved to be a good friend, and one hell of a warrior to fight alongside.

== Other Notes ==

Theme: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries]

Perceval Greystone

2019-03-08T05:32:32Z

DerFalkenlied: /* Back story */

Perceval Greystone

2019-03-08T05:32:09Z

DerFalkenlied: Created page with "== Appearance == A towering mass of Elezen flesh, Precis stands at a staggering 6'10". His handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tann..."

Precis Transvaal

2019-02-24T10:21:53Z

DerFalkenlied:

== Appearance ==

A towering mass of Elezen flesh, Precis stands at a staggering 6'10". His handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself
on. Underneath his usual dark-clad thick armor sit scales of a blue-steel and platinum color, hard and Draconian in nature, adorning his flesh in a matter similar to that of Au'ra.

He's typically seen clad in Shire plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great sword on one hip, a quiver on the other, and his bow strung on his back.
Opposite of that is more agile gear, a light Shire cloak that drapes to his calves, with low-cut boots and padded gambeson trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and suit to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

His back story would be he was raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lordling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Artouix. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Precis/Artouix excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Nameday came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Precis'/Artouix's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Precis/Artouix was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Precis/Artouix was out purchasing some whetsones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put it to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an axe cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the head of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the Brand of Heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die. Artouix/Precis, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy. He recuperated for three months, and worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him. Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of Precis, now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage. He then met a Qestir and fell in love with her over the course of a month, in which it was a mutually returned feeling, and they became official. Shortly thereafter, around two months so, he joined her on a job to eliminate some voidsent occupying some ruins, and was possessed without the knowledge of those around him, leaving him trapped to suffer in his own mind-scape for six months, in which the voidsent made his life a living hell, destroying his friendships, relationship and everything he held dear was lost, even stressing out his now-fiancee to the point of miscarriage , eventually making his body attempt suicide, but failing due to the efforts of a friend.

Post-Possession, he'd take a few weeks to regather himself, before leaving his fiancee behind after realizing nothing could reconsile them truly, as she'd faded from the woman he once loved into something his considered depraved. She'd already chosen another man who'd previously blown his leg off of Precis' own body while possessed, which was later regenerated by a blessed Xaela of Azim, the Sun God of The Steppe. During these harsh weeks, where he pushed himself to his limit over and over again to cope with the mental pain, he meets with a Roegadyn called Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, in search of wealth and a bit of glory, set off on a job together one day to clear off something blocking a trade route. Lo and behold, it's a large Wyrm, reanimated by otherworldy forces which they barely manage to kill and exorcise, nearly dying themselves in the process of fighting such a being. Precis/Artouix in a sparing thought, harvests the eye of the wyrm, and after cleaning it of voidal energies with the assistance of Tempest, is struck by the consciousness of the great beast. It seems that the strength of dragons was not to be underestimated, as the wyrm introduced herself as Yrventh the Kind, and later, offered Precis/Artouix herself as a being to fuse with, in hopes of reuniting Man and Dragon like days of eld. He accepted unconditionally, and the fusion nearly ended his life, if not for the wisdom of his partner in assisting him in withstanding the transformative properties of dragon-aether on Ishgardians. Weeks later, on Precis/Artouix's twenty-fourth nameday, he'd attempt to celebrate for the first time since his father's death, which sends him into a terrible mood, only resuscitated by his brother-in-arms Tempest, and his lover, Nanama Kha, a local detective whom he'd unwittingly fallen for, and she him, in a matter of circumstance, luck, and both of them being in a terrible spot in life. Tempest, dragging Precis/Artouix to the Sea of Clouds, unknowingly awoke something in the Bardic Warrior, as his dragon companion blessed him with her grace and power, bestowing upon him blue-steel and platinum colored scales, and befitting wings to match, as they slowly fused into a single mind, the Dragon Mother becoming his guardian of spirit, and Precis/Artouix himself becoming embodiment. He now works today as a simple beast hunter and part time inspector with his loved and loving partner Nanama in the city of Ul'dah, awaiting the next curveball of fate as he enjoys what he's regained.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Precis/Artouix's metaphorical goddess. He spoils her beyond hope and reason, and she protests innocently against it all to no avail.

Beralda of The Valkyries : A fierce winged warrior woman who believes she'd saved him in a past life from the struggle across the wastes of Coerthas. Having no other reference for his past, he believes this, and they're currently engaged in a bond of warrior-hood. She's proved to be a good friend, and one hell of a warrior to fight alongside.

== Other Notes ==

Theme: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Rideof the Valkyries]

Precis Transvaal

2019-02-24T04:35:51Z

DerFalkenlied:

== Appearance ==

A towering mass of Elezen flesh, Precis stands at a staggering 6'10". His handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself
on. Underneath his usual dark-clad thick armor sit scales of a blue-steel and platinum color, hard and Draconian in nature, adorning his flesh in a matter similar to that of Au'ra.

He's typically seen clad in Shire plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great sword on one hip, a quiver on the other, and his bow strung on his back.
Opposite of that is more agile gear, a light Shire cloak that drapes to his calves, with low-cut boots and padded gambeson trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and suit to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

His back story would be he was raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lordling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Artouix. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Precis/Artouix excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Nameday came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Precis'/Artouix's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Precis/Artouix was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Precis/Artouix was out purchasing some whetsones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put it to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an axe cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the head of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the Brand of Heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die. Artouix/Precis, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy. He recuperated for three months, and worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him. Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of Precis, now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage. He then met a Qestir and fell in love with her over the course of a month, in which it was a mutually returned feeling, and they became official. Shortly thereafter, around two months so, he joined her on a job to eliminate some voidsent occupying some ruins, and was possessed without the knowledge of those around him, leaving him trapped to suffer in his own mind-scape for six months, in which the voidsent made his life a living hell, destroying his friendships, relationship and everything he held dear was lost, even stressing out his now-fiancee to the point of miscarriage , eventually making his body attempt suicide, but failing due to the efforts of a friend.

Post-Possession, he'd take a few weeks to regather himself, before leaving his fiancee behind after realizing nothing could reconsile them truly, as she'd faded from the woman he once loved into something his considered depraved. She'd already chosen another man who'd previously blown his leg off of Precis' own body while possessed, which was later regenerated by a blessed Xaela of Azim, the Sun God of The Steppe. During these harsh weeks, where he pushed himself to his limit over and over again to cope with the mental pain, he meets with a Roegadyn called Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, in search of wealth and a bit of glory, set off on a job together one day to clear off something blocking a trade route. Lo and behold, it's a large Wyrm, reanimated by otherworldy forces which they barely manage to kill and exorcise, nearly dying themselves in the process of fighting such a being. Precis/Artouix in a sparing thought, harvests the eye of the wyrm, and after cleaning it of voidal energies with the assistance of Tempest, is struck by the consciousness of the great beast. It seems that the strength of dragons was not to be underestimated, as the wyrm introduced herself as Yrventh the Kind, and later, offered Precis/Artouix herself as a being to fuse with, in hopes of reuniting Man and Dragon like days of eld. He accepted unconditionally, and the fusion nearly ended his life, if not for the wisdom of his partner in assisting him in withstanding the transformative properties of dragon-aether on Ishgardians. Weeks later, on Precis/Artouix's twenty-fourth nameday, he'd attempt to celebrate for the first time since his father's death, which sends him into a terrible mood, only resuscitated by his brother-in-arms Tempest, and his lover, Nanama Kha, a local detective whom he'd unwittingly fallen for, and she him, in a matter of circumstance, luck, and both of them being in a terrible spot in life. Tempest, dragging Precis/Artouix to the Sea of Clouds, unknowingly awoke something in the Bardic Warrior, as his dragon companion blessed him with her grace and power, bestowing upon him blue-steel and platinum colored scales, and befitting wings to match, as they slowly fused into a single mind, the Dragon Mother becoming his guardian of spirit, and Precis/Artouix himself becoming embodiment. He now works today as a simple beast hunter and part time inspector with his loved and loving partner Nanama in the city of Ul'dah, awaiting the next curveball of fate as he enjoys what he's regained.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Precis/Artouix's love interest, due to many a factor

== Other Notes ==

Theme: [https://youtu.be/sYpCMLW2n_Q Hidden Citizens- Rideof the Valkyries]

Precis Transvaal

2019-02-24T04:33:23Z

== Appearance ==

A towering mass of Elezen flesh, Precis stands at a staggering 6'10". His handsome facial features frame him to look like some sort of prince-ling, with tanned flesh, piercing blue eyes akin to those of a hawk, and run-back mop of raven-black hair tinted with strands of what would appear to be bluish-silver in tandem with platinum, gilding the spare few locks of his. Having been a person of labor most of his life, his muscles are toned and corded for practical use, with not an ounce of spare muscle growing to make him seem bigger or more intimidating, letting him hold fast to the agility he prides himself
on. Underneath his usual dark-clad thick armor sit scales of a blue-steel and platinum color, hard and Draconian in nature, adorning his flesh in a matter similar to that of Au'ra.

He's typically seen clad in Shire plate-armor, dyed a dark gray to better absorb sunlight for the cold of the Coerthas, his main working location. Over his armor sits a thick, bearskin-canvas cloak that drapes from shoulder to calves, connecting around his neck and under his horned helm, with the weapon of such a kit being his great sword on one hip, a quiver on the other, and his bow strung on his back.
Opposite of that is more agile gear, a light Shire cloak that drapes to his calves, with low-cut boots and padded gambeson trousers, adorned with his bardic-style flared hat-and-feather if he's feeling flashy. He will usually dress for the environment, adapting both color and suit to fit with the area he's working in.

== Back story ==

His back story would be he was raised in the Brume of Ishgard as the bastard of some random highborn lordling, raised at the local tavern as a busboy by a compassionate Highlander by the name of Amoux, who'd taken in the boy as a mercy for looking like his own son, naming the nameless child Artouix. Quickly learning speech craft and the appeal of music to gain a few extra coins to feed himself and his father, Precis/Artouix excelled in those methods to pinch what he could for his savior. His childhood from age four to twelve passed uneventfully, as he developed as a kind and caring boy with the employees of the tavern becoming his close-knit family unit. As his ten-and-second Nameday came around, himself and his adoptive father traveled to the markets, wherein an attack by some spares of Nidhogg's Brood saw his father sacrifice himself, burned to ashes before Precis'/Artouix's eyes, sheltering him under a turned-over cart. At age 16, Precis/Artouix was still working in the tavern now as a chef, busboy, and icon of the Pillar's brought into the Brume with his handsome developing features. Precis/Artouix was out purchasing some whetsones for the kitchen when he spotted his estranged progenitor on a far catwalk with his supposed wife and two children. Overcome with fury at the man who'd left him to freeze on the streets of the Brume, he stalked them for about an hour in a haze of pure revenge before mercilessly slaughtering them all in a back alley shortcut back to their estate, getting caught nigh-instantly with the sound of grief at his acts racking him. Three guardsmen of the Holy See found him over the corpses of four people, two adults, a child, and an infant, each one rich with wealth in jewelry and gil. Deciding they'd put it to better use, they administered their own form of justice, flogging him with twenty lashes of a barbed whip, fifty lacerations from the cut of a longsword, and an axe cleave across his lower spine, each wound meticulously placed to form the head of a dragon, the heretic icon of Ishgard. After doing so, they grasped an iron brand, heated it in the flame of their torch, and scarred the left side of his face with the Brand of Heresy, proceeding to carry his half-dead body to the wastes of the Coerthas Western Highlands, tossing him asunder as a corpse, and leaving him to die. Artouix/Precis, however, half-dead and running off of the last dregs of his own life, crawled his way towards the wind-whipped branches of a tree, and into a nearby cave. He'd manage to start a small fire, in which he cauterized each wound shut painfully, passing out roughly five times in the entire life-saving process. Two weeks would pass, in where the gods graced him with the dragon-claw torn near-dead corpse of a polar bear, which he brought himself to end with the smallest knife in his boot, eating the flesh raw out of starvation. He then forced himself to journey south to the forests of the Black Shroud while half-crippled and severely injured. Through strength of will, and no lack of pain, he hobbled and crawled his way to the Divide, where in he was found covered by skin of bear by a Dravanian scout, with lesser drake in tow, passing out shortly thereafter, only able to mutter the words "Please", and point feebly across The Divide. He awoke later, the warm, moist ground of the forest kissing his face, and a small package of food hidden under his body. It did not take long of his crawling before he happened upon some Sylphs, who took him under their wing with concern for what could harm such a young boy. He recuperated for three months, and worked his way towards hobbling, walking, jogging, and eventually sprinting, and rebuilding himself to the point of being able to do basic farm labor. The sylphs deemed him ready for the world and allowed him to leave and wander about their lands with their blessing, to explore the Shroud. It did not take long before misfortune struck again, as a rampaging wild boar charged him into a tree. It took all of his willpower and strength to drive the knife, of which he'd killed the Polar Bear with, to pierce the brain of the pig. He managed to gut the thing, taking a strong tendon and a nearby branch to form a makeshift bow, with arrows of rock, twig, and tree sap. He used this weapon, later refining it, to survive, hunting for survival, growing, adapting, and strengthening himself to be a primal warrior. One day, he awoke to hear a faint, ethereal humming in his ears, which he quickly assumed to be insanity, but it later came to his attention that the humming- the song- changed depending on the situation, and was -speaking- to him of the nature of the forest around him, speaking to him of the beasts, the trees, the wind, and all that surrounded him. Fast-forwarding, the progression of his ability with bow, song, and athletics increasing greatly, now age 18, he was found and apprehended by the Wood Wailers of Gridania for poaching their wilds. Taking note of his primal appearance, with toned skin, dirt-covered form, and ragged hair, they escorted him into the city proper to clean and care for him, so they could properly question him without wincing at his smell. After extracting what information he would give them, including his fake name of Precis, now his usual alias, they handed him a proper bow with real arrows, not sharpened wooden ones, and he proceeded to split his own shot down the middle three times over in a display of uncanny marksman ship (He was certain the Archer's guildmaster creamed in her pants). They instantly conscripted him to the adventurer's guild as the condition for his pardon, and made off to Ul'dah to assist and quell the rising levels of crime and monster activity in that area as one of many who went in pursuit of wealth. There he regained his civility, found his path in music and speech-work for years on end, refining his dead-eye aim and survival work, and becoming a hit with the local ladies with his prince-like visage. He then met a Qestir and fell in love with her over the course of a month, in which it was a mutually returned feeling, and they became official. Shortly thereafter, around two months so, he joined her on a job to eliminate some voidsent occupying some ruins, and was possessed without the knowledge of those around him, leaving him trapped to suffer in his own mind-scape for six months, in which the voidsent made his life a living hell, destroying his friendships, relationship and everything he held dear was lost, even stressing out his now-fiancee to the point of miscarriage , eventually making his body attempt suicide, but failing due to the efforts of a friend.

Post-Possession, he'd take a few weeks to regather himself, before leaving his fiancee behind after realizing nothing could reconsile them truly, as she'd faded from the woman he once loved into something his considered depraved. She'd already chosen another man who'd previously blown his leg off of Precis' own body while possessed, which was later regenerated by a blessed Xaela of Azim, the Sun God of The Steppe. During these harsh weeks, where he pushed himself to his limit over and over again to cope with the mental pain, he meets with a Roegadyn called Ardent Tempest, a man with a talent similar to his own song, a slab of steel as his weapon, and a body covered in only the toughest metals. Over the course of weeks, they become close enough to call each other brother, and eventually, in search of wealth and a bit of glory, set off on a job together one day to clear off something blocking a trade route. Lo and behold, it's a large Wyrm, reanimated by otherworldy forces which they barely manage to kill and exorcise, nearly dying themselves in the process of fighting such a being. Precis/Artouix in a sparing thought, harvests the eye of the wyrm, and after cleaning it of voidal energies with the assistance of Tempest, is struck by the consciousness of the great beast. It seems that the strength of dragons was not to be underestimated, as the wyrm introduced herself as Yrventh the Kind, and later, offered Precis/Artouix herself as a being to fuse with, in hopes of reuniting Man and Dragon like days of eld. He accepted unconditionally, and the fusion nearly ended his life, if not for the wisdom of his partner in assisting him in withstanding the transformative properties of dragon-aether on Ishgardians. Weeks later, on Precis/Artouix's twenty-fourth nameday, he'd attempt to celebrate for the first time since his father's death, which sends him into a terrible mood, only resuscitated by his brother-in-arms Tempest, and his lover, Nanama Kha, a local detective whom he'd unwittingly fallen for, and she him, in a matter of circumstance, luck, and both of them being in a terrible spot in life. Tempest, dragging Precis/Artouix to the Sea of Clouds, unknowingly awoke something in the Bardic Warrior, as his dragon companion blessed him with her grace and power, bestowing upon him blue-steel and platinum colored scales, and befitting wings to match, as they slowly fused into a single mind, the Dragon Mother becoming his guardian of spirit, and Precis/Artouix himself becoming embodiment. He now works today as a simple beast hunter and part time inspector with his loved and loving partner Nanama in the city of Ul'dah, awaiting the next curveball of fate as he enjoys what he's regained.

== Relationships ==

[[Nanama_Kha|Nanama Kha]] : A kind-spirited blue-haired Xaela inspector in Ul'dah, and Precis/Artouix's love interest, due to many a factor