Perceval Greystone
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 : 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: Hidden Citizens- Ride of the Valkyries
Hidden Citizens- Hazy Shade of Winter
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
