Lord Twyl Dartheon of House Plumrook
Illeveun's Character
Description: Lord Twyl seems somewhat young in appearance. Any human would most likely label him as being anywhere from 18 to 23 years of age; depending on where they were from. They would of course, be wrong in their assumptions; but the faerie noble does nothing to dissuade them from their delusions and allows them to continue to presume that he is no older than their great-grandfathers. Lord Twyl is usually seen wearing the latest fashions of the day, and these days such fashion would be that of a sack coat with matching waistcoat and trousers. His clothing is both generally and generously provided by whatever patron he might have at any given time and always has be cut and custom-fitted in order to provide space for his light, almost translucent, violet wings, which almost sweep the ground. Such is the way of the Faerie-folk. Lord Dartheon's wings and pointed ears are what mark him to most as being one of the fae; a fact which he seems to be very proud of. If asked, Twyl will tell you that the only problem with his wings is that they look as if they are about to break at the slightest touch; a needless worry that is often proven wrong when the faerie lord gets to try his favorite sport, fencing. Lord Twyl is also seen with a ring worn upon one of the fingers of his right hand. The ring is made from the purest of mithril silver and is engraven in bas-relief with the symbol of his family's heritage - a black and purple raven. And finally, an odd-looking sword, made from varnished wood '€" twisted and pointed '€" hangs by the faerie-noble's side at all times and completes his ensemble.
Cliches: Elven Bladesinger [3], Charismatic Diplomat (3), Exiled Faerie Noble (2)
Elven Bladesinger (Possessing Elven traits, wielding a sword with nimble precision, singing songs that emulate magical effects, performing intermediate faerie magic and insanely complex acrobatic maneuvers)
Charismatic Diplomat (Both knowing & maintaining proper etiquette, getting along well with others in general, negotiating peace or other topics, possessing a glib-tongue and an ear for gossip, attending boring drawn out meetings, handling oneself well in a heated debate)
Exiled Faerie Noble (Knowing who's who among royalty, having friends in high places, not needing to work for a living, longing to return home)
Hook: Fae Weaknesses '€" Elven (aversion and allergy towards iron, prone to fits of vanity and boredom)
Languages: Sylvan, English, Irish, German, Prussian
Equipment: LOTS of somewhat fashionable '€" though exotic in appearance - clothing, traveling papers, traveling gear. An elven fae-blade: a rapier made from enchanted wood that is just as strong and durable as the finest of steel. A family heirloom and sign of his noble house: a ring of pure mithril silver emblazoned with his family crest '€" a black and purple raven with claws and beak of golden filigree.
Tale: Lord Twyl Dartheon was born, as all faerie are, in the lands of the Dreaming. His birth was that of one into the noble house of Plumrook'€" a house that had the honor of serving directly beneath King Oberon himself! Lord Twyl remembers little of his time within the Dreaming, but he does remember being trained in the arts of riding, fencing, etiquette, and the ways of court-life; all parts of an education that befits any Noble's child to learn. Then came the Shadow Wars. As any noble child whom was destined to one day inherit the mantle of leadership of their house would, Lord Twyl diligently accompanied his father into the Shadow Lands as the Faerie waged their war upon the Nether Gods. The young Twyl watched fervently from the armies' camps as his father and men rode out into battle each day and came home battered and bleeding each night.
Eventually the Shadow Wars were over, but another war began - this time upon the mortal lands of Tir na Nog. Twyl watched in bewildered wonder as his father's armies entered the lands of man through the great heksenringen known as Stone Hedge. While Twyl doesn't remember much of the war that followed, he does remember the lands of Tir na Nog and it's wonders. The young faerie was saddened deeply when he was sent away abruptly. Twyl wanted to stay, but his father and, in turn, his mother, refused to hear of it and it wasn't long before he was sent away across the sea to the lands of Germany. The young lord still remembers the day he heard the news of the sinking of Tir na Nog and of the imprisonment of his people upon the island known to the mortals as Ireland - and was determined one day to help set it free. And so the centuries passed and Twyl learned all that he could from the nobles of Germany, both fae and human alike. As he learned the proper social graces and etiquette from the German people, Lord Twyl found that it was not so different from that of his own people.
One day Lord Dartheon was recommended to study under the tutelage of one Tobias Gruenhaegen. Herr Gruenhaegen was one of Germany's finest huntsmen and it was rumored that he was in line to become Berlin's next Jagermeister. Twyl was trained alongside Herr Gruenhaegen's very own son, Theodorich, and it wasn't long before the two became vast friends. There was not much of the education that Twyl received that he did not already know but still, he patiently listened to what his mentor has to say and did what he could do to aid young Theodorich with his own lessons. When Lord Dartheon had finished with his training and there was no longer any need to stay, he left to return to the city of Rostock. He did not leave, however, without bidding his newfound friend, now an adult, and vowing to return if Theorodich should ever need his services. Once back within Rostock's city walls, Twyl, or Lord Twyl as he had now become referred to for the past several centuries, finally took his leave and stopped being the student of the various noble houses - instead becoming their honored guest and a fixture of high society.
Over the centuries, Lord Twyl has come to know many people and has forged numerous friendships and alliances, all of which he seems to surprisingly still manage to chat with at various parties, social functions and such. He has even managed to keep in touch with his dear friend Theodorich over the years as well, though both have become to rely on the power of the written word over direct conversation as each of the two seem to always be busy or interrupted after a few words and a healthy hello. Such is the way Lord Twyl has lived for the past few decades '€" talking and chatting up a random noble house, becoming their guest for a few months or so, and then politely taking his leave and moving on to somewhere else. The faerie noble has just now begun to tire of his cumbersome life and hopes that his efforts would soon pay off and that he would be fortunate enough to find a noble house '˜worthy' of a person of his caliber and join it.
Questing Dice: Lord Twyl Dartheon has 5 Questing Dice at his disposal that are each dedicated to the following:
Freeing Tir na Nog from it's imprisonment beneath the waves.