[introduction] Gavriel Bloomfield

It was a warm summer day. A chariot pulled by four bright white horses stopped in Westfall. The driver stepped down and with a grand gesture he opened the door for a rich looking man in his early fourties, and his overly dressed wife with a painted face. A crowd, including a bored Gavriel, gathered around the important looking visitors.

The man approached a farmer and talked about buying 'a large amount of grain, needed for a banquet of utmost importance'. But as the negotiation continued, his wife was puffing and suffering from the heat untill eventually she succumbed and fainted.

Quickly everyone scrambled to block the sun for her, waving cool air with their hands or clothes. One brought a skin of water but the man refused, claiming they should not defile her honor by ruining the paint on her face.
"Have you no smelly salt?!" cried out the man. The crowd shrugged and looked around nervously. "How uncivilized!" he shouted in anger.

Gavriel rolled his eyes at the scene and walked to the road, dipping a finger of his gauntlet in the fresh droppings from the chariot's horses. He pushed the crowd aside and made his way towards the woman, holding the dark mass in front of the woman's nose. She cringed and woke up in dismay.

Shocked and amused, the crowd laughed nervously at Gavriel, as he cleaned his gauntlet with a handkerchief and a broad smile.
"How dare you!" Shouted the woman. Red with fury, her husband confronted the smiling Gavriel.
"Well, Chap, a mead would do nic-"
Gavriel was slapped across the face by the man's glove.
- "A duel! I challenge you to a duel of honor!"
"Listen, Chap, I only tried te-"
- "Silence! You unmannered oaf!"
"Now ye're talking loonie Chap."
- "How dare you!? I'll have your life for this!" the man shouted and drew his blade. With a very elegant wave of his hand, a clear display of his trained skills, he placed the blade against brow in sign of salute.
So focused was he on his display of splendor that he didn't see in time the glint of metal from Gavriel's boot as it came flying right up his family jewels.
Before his knees touched the ground, Gavriel's recently cleaned gauntlet was firmly planted in his face. Holding the fallen man with a firm, metal grip on his throat, Gavriel leaned forward till their faces were but inches away from eachother.
"Yield! And.. Chap.. Buy me a mead if you please. It's bloody warm today."

Priceless, and wonderfully written. Do want moar.

Gavriel sounds like a dick xD

Aye. He seems to make that impression sometimes But he's actually.. a good guy really. You tell me what would have been a better solution? A straight up duel that could have cost a life?
Gav tried to finish the ridiculous situation right there before anyone got messed up.

--

Gav was laying in under his blanket, reading a book by the fire light of the camp. The book was his only possession outside his old rusty armor and beaten up shield. It cost him a year worth of mead, or at least at the rate he could afford to buy mead, so the book was worth a fortune by his standards. But he treasured the content enough to be worth such a tremendous sacrifice.

Squinting his eyes and bringing the book closer to his nose he scrutinized the letters carefully. Then he turned the book around and nodded approvingly.
"Hard to read 'em upside down, I tell ye." he laughed to himself.
Flipping pages till he reached the first chapters again, he began checking the drawings on the pages till he found one he remembered. He found one, portraing a great man with brown and gray beard, wielding a large hammer in one hand, holding a book in the other... Below the man, along the sidelines of the page, wretched orcs were depicted with blood dripping from their blades.

Focusing with great effort on the writing, he whispered the words as he read them.
"S.. So.. it cam - m - me.. to be th.. that.. Lord Uther", smiling softly at reading the name of Uther, " dis.. dis.. pla displa.. iua ehm.. displaiued .. displayed.. his ben..". Gavriel grunted. This was going to be a difficult word.
"Ben... vowl.. Vol.. sense? Ohh.. Benevolence.. By... sending.. two.. knights.. to the orcs to ne.. nego... gow.."
Gavriel grunted again. "Negotiaeitee... negotiate."
"Nice Chap alright. Trying to avoid a mess. Good thinking."
He continued.
"But the orcs ki-killed them and ret- returned.. the horr.. horses as a m-m-mess.. age.. message."

He put the book down. "Bah, foul beasts! Ye even gave them a chance to avoid a mess. At least ye showed them right, didn't ye, Chap?" and he quickly flipped a few pages forward to look at a picture of Uther standing tall above the defeated bodies of the orcs.
"Well done, Chap.. Well done." Smiling he closed the book, wrapping it carefully in a cloth before tucking it safely in a shoulderbag.
"Wish ye were still around, Chap... Would fight for ye, I would."

Battle.
((OOC note, as any story above, so is this one situated some years back when Gavriel was still fighting with the Westfall Militia))

It was a cool, clear night. Moonlight was reflected in grass where the leaves bent under the soft whisper of wind. By the stairs of the Westfall tower, Gavriel peered over the landscape. He shifted his weight and repositioned his shield, his rusty armor creaking under the movement.
"A quiet night, Chap." He spoke softly to the soldier on his left, who nodded silently in agreement. In the tower, behind them, five more guards were chatting with low voices, speaking and laughing again with Gavriel's confrontation with the nobleman.

Gavriel squinted briefly and looked at a hill to his right. In its moonlight shadow, he briefly saw a flicker of moonlight.
"That ain't right... Damn! Chaps! Wake up!"
He quickly ordered his fellow guard to the barracks to alert the troops and ran inside.
"Defias on their way! Keep it quiet till the other chaps arrive. Get yer arms. I bet ye a lifetime of mead they'll try to sneak into the barracks and kill them chaps in their sleep. You! Run to the barracks, wake everyone up! Rest of ye, grab your shields and spears! We guard the tower's entrance. We stay out of the light, in the shadow."

One ran off, fast as he could, towards the barrack. Some of the other soldiers picked up their shield and shortblade, taking a shieldwall position. Gavriel slung the shield on his back and picked up a spear along with the two remaining soldiers. Tucked a little to the back of the entrance, they stood hidden in the shadow, waiting for their attackers.

Shouts and clangs of metal bursted from the void outside. The fight in the barracks had begun. Suddenly shadows loomed up in the entrance, a small band of Defias ran in, seemingly unaware of the defense that was waiting inside. With a loud clang, the first two ran straight into the shield wall and were hauled down by the shortswords. Two more got stabbed by a spear. The wounded defias fell down shouting aimlessly in the night. One spear was dragged along with its victim, another was grabbed by its shaft by the lightning fast hands of one attacker.
"Hold!" shouted Gav, leaning in the front men to make sure they could hold the pressure of their attackers. Quickly they tried to stab the Defias holding on to the spear, but succeeded only after he slashed down two shafts including Gav's. Gavriel drew his shortblade and aimed stabs above the frontliners.

New attackers sprang into the fray, shouting a battlecry that screamed for blood. In the confusion of parries and stabs gone wide, one front soldier jumped up and aimed a shield bash at his opponent. The opponent stumbled back, but two more launched themselves at the soldier cut off from his defensive line. They landed on the ground, daggers were drawn and the soldier was lost under his aggressors in a desperate struggle for his life. Gavriel jumped in to take the soldiers position.

More attackers joined the small tunnel entrance, a visible death sentence to their soldier on the ground who was already in mortal peril. Gavriel grunted softly, in preparation from the grim order he was about to shout.

"Forward!" he shouted. With trained effort, the whole front line leaped forward, pushing any attacker back as they went, stabbing any attacked that lay on the floor... Dead or not, they would make sure. The reek of blood started filling the entrance. After a few steps, they cut down the two aggressors on their fellow soldier. Still they continued, making sure the soldier was behind the safe line.

The moonlight gleamed on their shields, their formation and numbers were revealed. A few Defias fell back and reformed. The path to their defense was now rid of the obstacles of the dead. Their defense had weakened. The Defias saw this as well. Switching their daggers for their larger blades they renewed their attack with greater number.

The Defias added more pressure, their sheer collective power beginning to imbalance and push back the defense. Two soldiers in the back tumbled over the corpses behind them. The front soldiers, lacking their proper support, lowered their knees and fended off any stab as they could. Gavriel knocked a guy back and shouted "Bastard!". One of the rear guard disappeared in the shadows. Four seconds later, a shout was heard in the rear. In harmony, the entire defense ducked their head behind their shield. A flicker of metal flew through the air, cutting down every Defias body in its path till finally the bastard sword slammed hard into the wall, shattering a few stones and one of its edges. The sheer horror of its destruction, seeing four Defias fall down in a single swing, made the remaining attackers fall back, cursing and swearing.

Outside, the noise in the barracks kept swelling. The battle seemed to be turning ill for the Defias.
A horn could be heard in the hills. Too fast for the defense, the Defias had turned and fled the scene.
"Stay! Don't expose yourself!" he shouted till finally they could see the first troops of the barracks reach them. The fight was over.

I really like Gavriel, with his quick sense and gruff manners. He has layers as a character - looking forward to hearing more about him, both IC and with the further stories.