Forsilvra :: Winds of Change
Old 08-12-2013, 11:50 PM
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Fólkhvatur Grunewald
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[Public Application]

Character Name: Fólkhvatur Grunewald
Character Age: 23
Gender: male
Birthday (including year): June 9th, 218
Current Location: somewhere in Arbrecht
House [Birth and Marriage if applicable]: Grunewald

Banner Appearance:
House Words: "We Staunchly Guard"
House Description


Player Base: Aidan Turner
Appearance:



Hair: dark brown, shoulder length
Eyes: light brown/hazel
Height: 5’10
Build: wiry

Fólkhvatur is on the tall side for the rather compact mountain people of Bjargheim. Like most of the men of the village, he is ruggedly built, tough, and wiry more than massive in his musculature. Also like many, though certainly not all, of the men who dwell in these colds lands, he prefers to keep a fairly full beard and long hair, useful for an added bit of warmth in the freezing cold of winter. He carries himself with a great deal of assurance, and has a very energetic bounce to his step. He’s athletic, again, from necessity, for wielding bow and sword with skill takes a good deal of strength. His typical expression is one of good humor and high spirits, but he can become as grim a warrior as one could want when the situation calls for fierce, unyielding resolve. But more often than not, you’ll hear him laugh far more often than curse.


Personality:

Fólkhvatur, first born child, and only son, of Valdemar Grunewald, was raised to believe that he should be a leader, and you will never find him hanging back, letting others take the vanguard. He has a great deal of personal magnetism – charisma – that has others rallying about him. Never one to shy away from new ground, he seems to live to trek off into the unknown. For him, life is all an exciting challenge. A bundle of energy and dynamism, he looks forward to the dawning of each and every new day -- and all of its possibilities.

On a slightly less positive note, Fólkhvatur is quite impulsive, and has a tendency to ram his ideas down everyone's throats without even bothering to ask if they want to know. Blunt and to the point, he can be completely lacking in tact and diplomacy does not come easily to him. The flip side of this more obnoxious trait is that the sheer force of Fólkhvatur ‘s personality can actually accomplish a great deal. Bold, aggressive and courageous, he can summon up the inner strength required to take on most anyone, and he'll probably win, given the amount of energy and vitality he’ll bring to bear on whatever he’s facing. Independent and well aware of his own interests in a given situation, he doesn’t slip into attributing his motivations to any highfaluting moral high ground. He just does what he thinks he needs to get a job done. Fólkhvatur may be construed as arrogant and domineering, but in the end, it takes a lot of focus to be a leader, and you can’t do so if you’re afraid to step on people’s toes.

Action, enthusiasm and a burning desire to play, and win, are what Fólkhvatur is all about. He’s a very physical type of person, and he’ll jump into the fray full force without hesitation. Sure, some of his decisions may later prove to have been hasty, but you'll never find him regretting them later on. All of the above can be said about his approach to love and women, though his marriage two years ago has seen him focus all of his attention on his wife, either to the relief or chagrin of the parents of the young women of Bjargheim. As to those young women themselves, their sentiments about Fólkhvatur being now “off the market” is quite the mixed bag. In any case, Fólkhvatur is quite crazy about Nótt, the young woman that he kidnapped to be his bride, and Starri, the son she has already given him, with another child imminently to make his or her appearance. He’s a very enthusiastic husband, and a proud and attentive father.

As for the rest of his family, Fólkhvatur has a quite deep loyalty and respect for his father, and an equally deep love for his mother and sisters. He’s very protective of the women, though his sister Astrid seems to have little need for his watchfulness. Fólkhvatur has a lot of respect for her abilities and they are very close. He’s equally as close to Elvý, the baby of the family, though their relationship has never been quite as competitive as that which he enjoys with Astrid.

History: [publicly known character history]

Fólkhvatur was born on an early summer day, when the wind blew fitful clouds through the mountain passes, and with his arrival came a brief summer squall. Whether this boded ill for the infant or no, his parents were quite delighted with their firstborn, and even more so for the fact that he was a son. The people of Bjargheim are probably far more equitable than many in the Kingdom, when it comes to their views on the relative worth of sons and daughters. The women of the mountain stronghold are often accorded far more respect and privilege than many of their southern sisters. Still, it is always an occasion to celebrate the birth of son and heir, and Fólkhvatur was born to the man who was already a leader in the high, isolated community. Fólkhvatur was a sturdy, robust baby with a healthy wail – always very curious and early to conquer all the typical baby milestones. By the time he was two, he was trying to trail after his father as he went about his day to day tasks, which mainly centered around the governance of the tiny town. By the time he was three, a younger sister joined him, though at first he held little regard for the cranky ginger haired girl. His parents emphasized, however, that Astrid was his sister – his to companion, and to protect and to watch out for. So soon enough, he accepted her presence in their daily life, while he himself began the busy work of learning to be a small warrior.

Valdemar had every intention that his first born son follow in the mountain tradition of being well versed in weaponry, hunting and fighting – for the area had a long history of internecine squabbles amongst the various clans. Even despite the influence of men like Auberon Vulferam, whose family came to hold sway over the area around Mier, higher up in the mountains, men such as Valdemar and his ancestors always had to be vigilant and stalwart in their defense of what they wished to claim as theirs. Valdemar raised Fólkhvatur to wield sword and bow and spear, as well as hunting, tracking and wilderness survival. He taught him how to outwit and vanquish both beast and man. Fólkhvatur had a natural aptitude for the skills he was asked to master, and beyond that his personality was such that he attacked all of it with great energy and will. He loved the thrill of it and welcomed all challenges to both his wiles and his muscles.

Two years after his first little sister was born, a second came along – beautiful, loving Elvý. She was as different in personality from Astrid as day is from night, and of course, Fólkhvatur now understood his role as big brother even better by this point. He loved both his younger sisters, and made a fairly decent playmate for them – especially for Astrid, who, it seemed, was determined to follow him about like a little shadow. Fólkhvatur accepted this with good natured equanimity, usually, and eventually Valdemar began to train his older daughter, just as he was training his son, for such is the way of mountain folk who have to make sure as many hands as possible are available to defend and protect their homes. No doubt this shared passion for all things warlike brought brother and sister even closer together, though both still held a deep affection for the youngest sibling as well, despite that she did not join them in their training. He became a skilled tracker, and spent almost all of his limited leisure time hunting in the primeval mountain forests, bringing down mountain sheep and goats and the great brown bears and snow leopards, as well as trapping ermine and mink and fox and rabbit. Fólkhvatur became ruthlessly proficient with a bastard sword, though his skill with the bow and spear was nothing to be sneered at. Both of Valdemar’s children joined the regiment that he led, though when he was called up to lend his men’s support to Conor Conchobar in the war of Heldenbrecht, only Fólkhvatur was old enough to accompany his father and the others down from the mountains and to the other side of Arbrecht. To say Astrid was disappointed might be the understatement of the century.

Another young woman who was sorely disappointed to see Fólkhvatur’s back as the men left Bjargheim was a girl by the name of Nótt. She and Fólkhvatur had known each other since they were children, though she was three years his junior. She wasn’t interested in training to be a warrior, and though she was the same age as Astrid, the two girls hadn’t been particularly close. But somehow, she and Fólkhvatur had struck up a fast friendship, that persisted even after he’d begun to mature into his youth. In the year or so before the War began, and Fólkhvatur left, their friendship had blossomed into something of a first love for both of them. They seemed to have eyes only for each other, though they were far too young to consider anything more than just holding hands, and perhaps an occasional stolen kiss. Before Fólkhvatur left to fight, he promised Nótt that when he returned, he would come and kidnap her, as was the Bjargheim custom, and claim her as his bride. That made her giggle, and blush, but as he left she prayed fervently for his protection and safe return.

Four years later, return he did, taller, far more mature, a seasoned veteran of battle, but still with all the feelings for Nótt with which he had left her. During his travels – fighting interspersed with long periods of stultifying downtime – he’d often been egged on by his friends and relatives in the regiment to stop mooning over Nótt and get to a brothel and enjoy himself. Well, perhaps it can’t be said with 100% truthfulness that he never indulged his curiosity in that regard. But he never forgot where his heart lay. On the night before the rest of the regiment returned to Bjargheim, he snuck off and snuck back to the village under cover of darkness, and thence into Nótt’s bedroom, through her window. There, in the dark, he slid a hand over her mouth, to keep her from crying out, and when he revealed his identity, she cried in earnest – warm tears of relief and joy. Fólkhvatur made her his that night, and later, towards dawn, he carried a very willing Nótt over her father’s doorstep. They were soon married, and it might not have been a full nine months before their son, Starri, was born.

They settled into being a comfortable and loving family, and a few months ago, Nótt shared the good news with Fólkhvatur that Starri would soon have a little brother, or sister, come November (241) or thereabouts. But life, as it does, has intervened. In the summer, the call came up from Conor Vulferam, Lord of the Mountain, to take up arms to assist Corbin Blanchard, the lost rose King, to reclaim his place as leader of Arbrecht. Loyal to a fault, Vlademar Grunewald assembled his regiments and retreated from the foothills of the mountains and down into the valleys and the lowlands, his son and daughter and brothers and cousins in tow, all the able-bodied men and women of Bjargheim expected to take up their arms for the cause. With a good will, Fólkhvatur has left once again to fight for the cause of the Vulferam. Once more, Nótt, and their son, and their child to be, await his return, praying each day that he will come back safe and unharmed.


Writing Sample: [Please include 2-3 paragraphs as a writing sample.]

Smiling, Fólkhvatur held out his hand. The little dark haired baby rocked uncertainly on chubby feet, reaching for his father’s index and middle finger, held so tantalizingly just out of his grasp.

“Come on, you can do it,” Fólkhvatur encouraged with a coaxing tone, while Nótt, sat on the other side of the hearth, smiled warmly.

“If he’ll do it for anyone, he’ll do it for you,” she teased, her voice proud and full of love. “Your mother almost got him to take a step earlier today. So close…” She reached out a protective hand as the child wobbled against her knee, though she did not try to hold him. Clearly, Starri was ready for this. He just needed to gather up his courage.

Waggling his fingers, Fólkhvatur smiled up at his wife, then turned his attention back to his little son. “Well, if he does do it tonight, maybe we shouldn’t tell her. She’s been so set on seeing her first grandchild’s first step.”

His fingers stilled and he held his hand steady, just out of reach. He said no more, just fixing the baby with a reassuring look. Starri’s big brown eyes looked up to his father’s face, and he crowed happily, but then his expression too became more steadfast. This walking stuff was serious business. He wobbled as he moved a foot, hesitated, and then released his clutch on his mother’s skirts. The other foot moved and there he stood, balancing, reaching, his face a work of concentration. Fólk grinned, holding quite still, those tiny, pudgy fingers only an inch or so from his. Starri stepped again, wobbled some more and slowly sank - down into the floorboards of the cozy room. Fólk made a desperate grab for the child, but all he got was air. Turning alarmed eyes to his very pregnant wife, he saw that she too was shrinking, fading, dwindling, down….

His fingers reached futily, and found only…nothing.


“Fólk! Wake up. You have the midnight watch!”

The gruff soldier’s voice brought him awake in an instant. The jostling of his shoulder was unnecessary. Blinking, he rose nimbly to his feet. There was no need to dress – they slept fully clothed, rolled up in a woolen blanket. As it was summer and fine weather, they weren’t even using tents. The smell of smoldering embers reached his nose, as he drew in a deep breath, trying to dispel the last shreds of the already fragmenting dream. Taking up his sword belt, he buckled it about his waist.

It was only just a dream.



[Time Line Events]

Year 218: Fólkhvatur Grunewald is born.
Year 221: Astrid Grunewald is born.
Year 223: Elvý Grunewald is born.
Year 234: Fólkhvatur leaves Bjargheim to fight with his father and the others of the regiment in support of House Vulferam in the War of Heldenbrecht
Year 238: Fólkhvatur returns to Bjargheim and marries Nótt Arnadóttir
Year 239: Starri Grunewald is born
Year 241: August Fólkhvatur and his father and sister Astrid, along with the regiment from Bjargheim, follow the forces of Mier into the lowlands of Arbrecht to prepare for war.


Family Genealogy:
  • Valbjörn Grunewald -- Kolperna Grunewald
    • Valdemar Grunewald (late 40's / early 50's) -- Fjora Halensee (Commoner)
      • Fólkhvatur Grunewald – Nótt Arnadóttir
        • Starri Grunewald
      • Astrid Grunewald
      • Elvý Grunewald
    • Famke Grunewald -- Ásleifur Forsetison (Wealthy Merchant Commoner)
      • Styrkár Ásleifurson -- Spouse (Commoner)
        • Children
    • Reginbaldur Grunewald (twin) -- Spouse
      • Ísold Grunewald -- Spouse
        • Children
      • Ulrich Grunewald
    • Reginleif Grunewald (twin) -- Cinaed Aemilianus Lanzo Vulferam
      • See House Vulferam
  • Sævaldi Grunewald -- Spouse
    • Kaprasíus Grunewald -- Vanessa Silverstein
      • Sylvia Grunewald -- Spouse
        • Children
      • Sónata Grunewald -- Spouse (Wealthy Commoner)
    • Haukvaldur Grunewald -- Spouse
      • Gustav Grunewald
      • Helga Grunewald
    • Skuld Grunewald

Credit to Friday for the family history and much of Fólkhvatur's part in it.

Last edited by Fólkhvatur Grunewald; 08-14-2013 at 02:48 PM.
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Old 08-14-2013, 02:57 PM
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Old 08-14-2013, 03:00 PM
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Old 08-14-2013, 03:02 PM
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Old 08-14-2013, 03:05 PM
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