Dwillon
| Dwillon | |
|---|---|
 | |
| DWILL-on | |
| Created by | Matthew Walther |
| Information | |
| Gender | Male |
| Occupation | Gaidin |
| Affiliation | The Grey Tower |
| Nationality | Tairen |
| Attributes | |
| Weapon Skills |
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| Masteries | |
Dwillon is a Tairen Gaidin of the Grey Tower.
Description
Average height, dark hair and lighter eyes. Though at the age of 19 his hardened face has added many years to him. Quick temper, though easy to please if you try. Strong built body, though not fast in combat.
Biography
The night was as cold as ever, and dark as pitch. Dwillon sighed and, what now seemed like tradition, pulled his jacket around him as tight as he could to hold in the heat. Once again he had failed to find adequate shelter for the night.
And once again he cursed himself for not bringing a tent.
Dwillon had forgotten a great many things when he had fled; a tent being the least of the problems. No food, none of his possessions, only the sword he was commisioned. That had never left his side.
His father had taught him a little when he was younger, when he had seen that his son was very interested in the skill. Dwillon hadn't learned much more than that since he had left home in search of greatness, like every other teen with a swelled head. He remembered the eyes of his mother as he left; trying desperately to hide the tears, understanding that he needed to roam.
Dwillon shivered, wondering what she would think if she knew where her son had gone. Or the things he had done....
He had thought he found greatness when a recruiter for the military approached him during his travels. The man talked much of this greatness, and of how Dwillon could easily become "one of the heroes of the land" and all the usual rot. As a swelled-headed, easy to manipulate teen he had, of course, accepted wholeheartedly. He soon learned that not only would it take a long time for him to even come near the level of those so-called "heroes", but there would be a lot of punishment along the way.
Dwillon's temper was always getting him into trouble. It was very short, and every drill instructor used that to the fullest extreme they could. Sometimes the fellow trainees would as well, and as such Dwillon had no friends.
Not that he cared now. Not after what he had done.
He had passed with flying colors and been immediately assigned to a platoon. Soon after, they were sent on a mission to--
"NO!!!" he screamed, sending a nearby flock of birds skreeching into the night. This startled him, and he jumped quickly into a defensive stance. He knew it was birds, but anyone could have heard him.
After all, the military does not appreciate deserters.
Morning came finally, and with it the brightness of the sun. Dwillon rose quickly and resumed his course, though not as quickly as he had hoped. Lack of full meals had slowed his pace and lessened his energy. He only hoped that he could reach his destination before he collapsed.
The haven of the Tower. His only refuge from the military.
From his torment.
Career History
- Drin
- Ji'val
- Sa'ji'alantin (6 July 2008)
- Gaidin (1 December 2007)
- Master of Training (8 January 2009)
- Master of Arms (1 June 2009)
- Master of Arms (7 November 2011)
