Sir Filshiar Shieldborne
It is not enough to protect your own. To shield yourself is instinct, to shield your brother is love. To shield your King ... that is honor above all things.
Social Rank: 7
Concept: Northern King's Knight
Fealty:
Crownsworn
Family:
Shieldborne
Gender: male
Marital Status: single
Age: 26
Birthday: 2/4
Religion: Shamanism/Pantheon
Vocation: Knight
Height: tall
Hair Color: dark, dark brown
Eye Color: soft brown
Skintone: brown
Description: Long and lanky, Filshiar's rangy strength leaves him built more or less like a rake -- broad shouldered, narrow hipped, with long bones and sturdy muscle of a man in fit fighting form. His skin is warm brown, his even features sculpted but left a little soft with the shade of unspent youth, his long hair a shade of brown so dark it is near-black. He keeps facial hair neatly groomed, shading dark over his full, soft mouth. His eyes are a soft, liquid brown, their depths shaded by the sooty thickness of long, long eyelashes, and their melting dark is expressive beneath fine, straight, dark eyebrows.
Personality: Introverted, intelligent, and reserved in character, Filshiar's is a quiet warmth that rarely entirely fades. When it is gone, all that is left is the cold breath of his fury, and there is little that can withstand this. Deeply loyal to persons over principles, he feels for friends and comrades with overpowering passion, an amiable and unstinting devotion that makes all else pale before it. Easygoing and quiet typically, he is more likely to smile than laugh, and rarely boisterous, but enjoys the bonhomie of others around him, soaking up delight like a kind of human positivity sponge. Compassionate and dedicated, his gentleness and kindness seem his most common traits -- but his sturdy will and raw ferocity are astounding when he provoked.
Background: Filshiar was a third son of a second son, and in many respects, no one special. His mother was a blacksmith who worked long hours at her smithy, serving the scouts of Farhaven and the knights of the House of Redrain; his father was a shaman and a healer who worked closely with the Mercies of Lagoma at Farhaven. As a boy, he trained aggressively, showing early aptitude for the blade. He was the strongest of the young boys his age, consistently; the fastest, consistently; and a stalwart influence on the youth and the squires who trained together. He was a firm hand to keep the strong from mocking the weak, gently insistent and too large and disciplined even in youth for even the sharpest young bully to defy him. It was this consistent attitude, as well as his strengths in the practice yard, that drew the attention of the knight who eventually took him on as squire. The boy whose instincts are to protect the weak until they grow stronger is a good boy to train.
He spent long hours in the wilds as a squire and scout, listening carefully to the forest and learning the ways in snow or sunshine. He was never particularly boisterous, inclined to an introverted reserve, but his smile was always warm, and he made strong connections with the other squires, and as he grew older, with the other knights. His aptitude could not be denied. He was strong, and fast, and sure; and more than that, he was dedicated. He was a warrior, and an able one, who proved himself time and time again in the practice yard, and whose swordwork left nothing to be denied in the field, either.
Filshiar drew many eyes by virtue of his prowess in the field and by virtue of his looks, but though he was not averse to warming the bed of this person or that, he found true connection elusive. The grand passion and romance of the storybook was simply not to be found for him in the arms of a pretty maid or a rough young scout, no matter how he tried, and he found that it made less heartbreak for others if he began to turn down advances. He focused on service and spent more time walking alone in the woods, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees, and thinking about how it could sound like music.
He was in his twenties by the time he was assigned to travel to the South, part of Prince Darren's detachment to Arx, and bore quiet witness to many strange and interesting things. Already tested at the time of the siege of the Silence, he made himself impossible to overlook in battle against the Bringers, in an epic fight that should have been his last stand but for a combination of his abilities and some damned good luck. It was not the first or last time he would distinguish himself before the eyes of the Compact, but it was certainly one of the most memorable, and after it, the first overture was made to suggest that he might -- maybe, just maybe -- have the stuff to serve as a Knight of the King's Own. Someday.
Someday came sooner than expected when a series of events and circumstances led him to take a warrior's samaritan aid to the King's Own in holding a bridge, during an attempt upon the life of His Majesty staged by corrupt influences within His Majesty's Inquisition. It was after that fateful day that Filshiar shyly accepted and took oath with the finest knights in Arvum.
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