[C] Briar Gamble & Io (A) | Page 1 | ❧ Character profiles | Guild Forums

Roadkill

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Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2012 7:06 pm

Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2012 7:08 pm

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Roadkill

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Roadkill

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Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2012 7:09 pm

Name: Briar Gamble
Nicknames/Aliases: Goes by his surname
Gender: Male
Date of Birth: July 7, 1768
Age: Twenty-nine
Residence: Oldcastle
Occupation: Lumberjack

Appearance__________

Briar is of good and hardy stock. He is well-muscled and stands at a tall 6'4". Briar has a very dark olive complexion. His thick dark brown hair is kept short and the same goes for his full beard. There is more hair than that, however, which he likes to graciously show off on his chest when the occasion strikes. In contrast to his dark features, Briar has deep blue eyes framed by long eyelashes. Down between his eyes is a fairly large aquiline nose and a pair of chapped lips. A square-ish jaw finishes off his rectangular face. If he were to smile, one would notice that his top right canine tooth is missing. He also sports quite a few scars across his knuckles and the back of his hands. There are a few other scars decorating his body, but nothing of great significance.

Personality___________

In his youth, Briar was a raucous and wild boy. Getting into trouble (inadvertently) was perhaps one of his favorite pastimes right under chasing girls. He would even boast his ability to drink anyone under the table and mention that he could use a sword. He could not, however, actually use a sword. The scars scattered about him are not from wild adventures, but instead from his stupid childhood when he was determined to become a "knight from fairytales".

Now, far beyond being a boy, Briar has finally begun to mellow out and settle into adulthood. A bit of a wild flair is left in him, and he still does enjoy showing off, but he's not as big of an idiot. He also has given up the chase of women, focusing all his energy into his work. Felling trees is almost therapeutic for Briar; it's a way to let off steam, concentrate on something, zone out, and just get away.

History______________

Briar grew up on a farm in the countryside not too far from Oldcastle. He is the youngest of five (three sisters and one brother) and was heavily influenced by his older siblings. When he wasn't doing chores around the farm, his sisters would regale to him grand stories of knights defeating monsters and rescuing young maidens. These stories fascinated him greatly-- he was enraptured by them. He dreamed of becoming a knight and live a real fairytale! It did not help that his brother gave him a wooden sword on his eighth birthday.

Stories were no longer enough to satiate Briar's desires, so he would go out with his wooden sword in tow. Many farm animals (monsters, that is) felt the great wrath of Sir Gamble! His parents were none too pleased about his shenanigans, but that never stopped Briar from going off to have fun.

Even as a young teenager of thirteen, Briar would attempt to go on adventures of any kind. He wanted to be considered a man then and would do anything to prove himself. This lead to many stupid incidents throughout his teenage years. This also lead to wanting a real sword. No longer interested in his kiddy fake sword, Briar sought out the real deal. It took a lot of work and effort, but he finally obtained one (much to the chagrin of his parents). He practiced fighting with it all the time, but he never had any real formal training, so in reality, he was quite horrible. Many accidents and injuries befell Briar during this stage of his life, but he only felt that this added more to his manliness.

Doing chores and working on the family's farm interested him less and less. There was nothing exciting there and definitely no signs of adventure. He rebelled against anything his parents said and purely for the sake of rebelling. He was going to do things his own way and live the life he wanted. At seventeen, Briar left his family to start anew in Oldcastle.

His life in Oldcastle consisted of him getting into trouble, causing trouble, drinking a lot, and chasing girls. Briar would brag to his fellows that he never needed to pay a whore because they'd gladly sleep with him for free. Supposing the claim was true: it'd certainly help his enormous bar tab that never quite dwindled down, even when he managed to pay some of it. His days were rowdy and wild, and Briar thought himself as king of his own domain.

The years went on however, and Briar's vivid energy was dying down. The friends he had made were all married and having children. They were all settling down and leaving their old lives of debauchery behind them. What was so great about that, thought Briar. He wasn't so rambunctious anymore, but he still had a thirst for fun. Women and booze were his vices, but he was running out of money for those things. Scrounging up odds and ends to work at around town wasn't paying like it used to.

That is when he heard of work in the Wardwood. With Oldcastle's ever growing population, more trees needed to be cut down for lumber. A fine opportunity to make money and something to keep up his strength. Briar figured he'd be drinking and chatting it up with women in no time. What he discovered, instead, was a harsh boss. The trees needed to be cut in a specific way so they weren't damaged, or damage other trees, or, well, fall on people. This task needed to be done in a timely manner, too. This guy, Flannigan, thought he was king and Briar despised it.

Briar would get into fights with his fellow workers often, and especially get into fights with Flannigan. It was a miracle that they didn't kick him out on the spot. He grumbled, and moaned and complained, but kept working. Flannigan always knew how to push his buttons-- it was infuriating.

With time, Briar became accustomed to his new career as a lumberjack. Flannigan had guided Briar into becoming a more upstanding citizen. Briar's youthful lust had waned, and he was no longer that interested in women. Women were more trouble than they were worth and he had a lot more things to worry about. The drink was still something of interest, but not to the point of getting shitfaced drunk. With age came the maturity to enjoy a fine ale rather than copious amounts of swill.

Now closing in on his 30th birthday, Briar continues his life as a lumberjack and training the newbies. Though a far cry from the days of his youth, he manages to harbor some wildness inside.

Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2012 7:10 pm

Roadkill

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Roadkill

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Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2012 7:11 pm

xxxxxThe pulse of the forest was an ever-present force in Briar's waking life. Eerie emotions would sweep over the new workers like a gust of icy wind-- going straight to their heart. These feelings had waned in Briar quite some time ago, growing accustomed to the mysterious woods in which he'd fell trees. Despite his seasoned attitude, the spirits of old loomed heavily; the clattering of branches and leaves called out to him. "Come," the trees cooed.

Something was guiding him forward through the forest. The gruff man clutched his chest as he gazed deeply into the timberland. An intensity like no other he had felt was coming over him-- an intensity he could not place. Taking another step, the grip on his axe loosened, and then, Briar set his axe down against a sturdy trunk. There was no need for an axe for the place he was being drawn to; Briar knew it. He knew many things he could not place... his final destination was clear, but the reasoning for going there was not.

Wolf-stones would stare threateningly at him as he'd pass them by, but they were not of concern to him. Usually great uneasiness would fill him when he came upon them, and talks of the Old Ways would flood his mind. His purpose was set-- an undeniable task given to him by the unknown propelled him onward. "Come," the trees cooed.

An exasperated sigh came from his chapped lips. Pressing his hands against a towering tree, he leaned forward into it. A brief moment of clarity came to him-- what exactly was he doing? Briar knew he had to do what he was doing, but he had no clue what he was doing in the first place. Conflict of heart and mind began and he dug his nails into the bark in frustration. The heart was never an easy thing to sway; he knew it would win out over his mind every time. Giving in and admitting such was also not very easy. He was a grown man acting so rashly on strange emotions he didn't even know the origin of. This was ridiculous.

The trees were incessant and kept calling. Briar looked up to the canopy for an answer to his troubles. They had no answers for him-- only motivation to keep moving.