Name: Guss, for those who know him call him 'Rook' or the common nickname 'Hands'
Age: 43
Appearance:
Guss is tall standing at 6.9 - broad shouldered, short hair, sharp blue eyes and almost black brown hair with tips showing the signs of grey. A thick moustache and heavy browed, a cruel scar catches in his left cheek and stretches down to his neck - luckily had the cut been deeper he'd have died from blood loss from a cut neck vein. In combat he wears both the full plate and rivetted mail over a padded leather gambeson. His gear is practical, designed to set up in ways to ensure that if parts break that they can easily be replaced. The metal is a mixture of patch work repairs - weathered and showing signs of battle testing and even tell tale signs where the armour took more of the brunt over the blow. When he isn't fighting he still wears his gambeson and other gear, and while he could have been handsome in his younger years - time has made him weathered and tired.
Personality:
Guss isnt a man of few words, nor the brooding one in the corner with a chip on his shoulder. He reads people when they arrive and is someone who judges someone of first impressions than really if they grow. If they grow and survive its good, but from having so many friends in the ground than breathing he's found it easier just to keep people at arms length. The nobles find him rather blunt, effective and to the point. Motivated - driven and never afraid of putting his fist through someone's jaw if they want to test him. In most cases its how he deals with it, want to run your mouth expect to enjoy a well placed blow to knock the wind out of you. If you fall behind during a fight and die, at least you'll die doing what you were supposed to do. Normally the first to offer someone a bit of advice, whether they use it he doesn't care. If they live long enough - they might earn a nod of respect but for him anyone who is new, he personally writes off as inexperienced or expendable as 'chaff'.
For those who earn his respect, or show promise he is as loyal as any warrior, betray it. There is no earning his trust once its broken.
Weapons:
Great-sword - a weapon designed for both with reach and effective cleaving potential. The pommel of the weapon also has a cruel spiked end designed to if used carefully to be similar to a mace. The weapon is made from layered steel, yet double edged, chisel sharp and a weapon of technique along with brutality.
Two hand Axes
A one handed spiked Mace along with shield.
Armour:
Heavy plate, riveted chainmail and studded leather.
Large shield.
Afflictions:
- Unrested -
Experiences of battle have left their mark on this fighter, whether he is exhausted, drunk or resting early. On numerous occasions he wakes from nightmares - flashbacks to the horrors he has seen both upon the battlefield and the lengths of how cruel humans can be to one another. As always even after sleep, he never has fully gained a truly comfortable nights sleep.
- Old Wounds -
Some wounds despite magical healing never truly heal in the way intended, or correctly, in colder environments his joints in both his knees and right shoulder become stiff, sore and prone to discomfort. In hotter environments, he is prone to muscle cramps from the mixture of scars that do line his body. Each with a lesson to tell and on rare occasions those old wounds show his age, that even his body is prone to failing because of age.
- Veteran -
Anyone bright eyed, wet behind the ears as he calls it. Or deeming themselves to be capable at the age of less than thirty is someone he writes off as either dead, or going to be dead. Those who act all hard, silent, sultry or just impractical grates on him and he tends to disregard them as mere greenhorns being sent into the meat grinder to die. His rather hard disregard for individuals makes it hard for him to really make connections with those who are aloof and too egotistical of themselves.
Boons:
Know thy Enemy:
He's fought them, almost died against them and survived all this time doing what he does best. Either being the one removing the threat or working with a experienced team to actually get an objective completed.
For him, knowing was half the battle. Understanding how your enemy moves makes them predictable and for starts he tries to keep fighting less theatrical and much more swift, fast and ending it quickly but brutally in the same process.
As someone who has fought a long time, he's kept a journal on the various types of Forlorn he's slain. In most cases he seems that death is a mercy.
Grit:
He's learnt to be comfortable being uncomfortable, digging out the remnants of strength when its spent and pushing on defiantly when things are felt as almost hopeless. Despite being able to get by, its experience and mental strength that has got him this far. Even in a fight he's been known for being ruthless, hard and unrelenting for all the right reasons. When push comes to shove, cruel for a reason to get results.
Experience:
Actually being out in the thick, in combat in armour with various arms and conditions of weather has been an excellent but ruthless teacher. He's learnt to be practical over the theatrical, to improvise rather than depend on the weapon he was trained in. Not to mention, taught long enough to ignore the past and carry on with the present. Better to solve an issue now than later. The other thing also is, his mental guards make him resistant to magic simply because of his refusal to accept it.
Background:
Outsider. A veteran of war - a war against creatures that had once been human. The enemy changed from people to monsters and he was there are key points, pushing back the horrors, loosing both friends along the way.
HIs origins are not tragic, mostly mundane a son who joined an army for the ideals of fame and glory but also to provide for his family back home. While he endured and survived, his parents raised more children but despite this never forgot him. As the sickness spread - they fled further away to avoid the sickness as for where he hasn't been able to find letters of their whereabouts and in all honesty for how the lands are now succumbing to this - maybe its better he doesn't know.
After the king called out for aid and for a quest to find the prince, denying him the chance of peaceful retirement. Then again, who better than to go find this myth of a prince, drag his ass back to the shithole of a kingdom and make him get it sorted.
After having seen so many recruits and others die in battle, he had no real care for those who are too young mostly those in their 'early' twenties. Having seen so many die in horrific and disgusting ways. In recent news his oldest friend passed away in his sleep not from the disease but just age. Regarding this, he tends to be guarded about who he knows mostly because knowing others too well just means more complications when they die next.
