Zevandir

[John (Zevandir) 80]

Zevandir
The Hunter
 

 

Zevandir is a hunter, an ideal that has swept him through seasons of change, misery and triumph. A hunter of the wind and the waves, of time and men, and of his breakfast. Zev, as he is oft known by those with whom a bond is shared, spent much, if not all, of his early years aboard ships, great swan’s of Elven design, and the lean wolves of northern raiders. Regardless of where he came from, his skill upon the seas is largely unrivalled, and whether he was serving aboard a longship in sheets of ice rain, bending against an oar, or commanding the sailors of a Great Swan, wings filled with warm summer air, sedately sweeping the southern oceans, he excelled. Zevandir remembers not his parents, given them up as drowned in the great sea of time that surrounds all. However, the great sea has changed him, and Zevandir is alike the sea in manner and form, tall and lean and dark, white hair bleached the colour of bone in the sun and the spray a match for his manner, sunny as the afternoon, before crashing like a winter storm of furious waves into a dark, raging beast, blind with rage. Zevandir, though a creature of the sea, is at ease upon the waves of the land, ranging far over hills and plains and mountains, a lone wolf or the leader of a pack.

 

Zevandir has never been a man of disciplined training, preferring to fight with whatever is at hand, oft a marlin spike grabbed up and thrust through the jaw of an orc, before drawing a sword or boarding axe to repulse attackers. Though, in the event of attacking, Zevandir preferred to fight in a style both alike and distant from that of the traditional elves, for he largely served with great barbarians of men, cloaked in furs and armed with monstrous axes. As such, Zevandir too, powerfully built as a result of rowing and climbing and steering, has come to favour the axe, and it’s powerful, crashing strokes, splitting skulls and cleaving bodies with great waves of fury. However, he discovered at an early age a skill with a bow, instinctively directing a shaft of hissing pain through captains of ships, disorientating and defeating the crew before the battle was even joined. It is this skill, of matching an arrow to waves and sea wind, that lend Zevandir uncanny skill on land, as the unmoving landscape is almost too easy. Though Zevandir masquerades as a swaggering bravo of the seas, when he is in port, in truth his skill with the gentleman’s blade is poor to say the least, as the fine blades are prone to break under the great power of Zevandir’s strokes, the point finding little use past whittling or picking bone from beneath his nails.

 

Zevandir’s life as known to the people of Anthos began in Aegis, as a badly wounded and disorientated elf swept up on a beach near Malinor, the fallen Captain of a great fleet, beset upon by orcs of a fell and terrible nature, their great dreadships crushing the fleet of wolf ships beneath their mighty prows of iron and stone. It was his own ships that was first attacked, without warning, an orcish warship slamming into it, from the darkness of a fierce storm. Orcs rushed aboard, cutting down the fierce men and elves. In a final rally, Zevandir led his hardened core against the boarders, his axe cleaving a bloody swathe thorugh the enemy. Though the effort stunned the orcs, a monstrous brute swept a mighty hammer against Zevandir, and taken for dead, he was cast from his ship.

 

In the forests of Malinor, Zevandir was tended, and began his life anew, fighting for the princes, training in the mighty eleven crucible, a dark and terrible cavern of darkness, in which the fell creatures of Aegis roamed unchecked. Zevandir then joined the military of the elves, fighting with and agains the rangers, alongside Elven Princes, before venturing weeks from the city, to begin the founding of the great tree of the Pathfinders. However, Zevandir soon left, in a disagreement, he was cast from the pack, traveling to the Elven city of RavenHall, founding the first lodge of the hunters, upon which the blessing of the High Prince was cast, immortalizing Zevandir’s destruction of the enemies of the land, their heads mounted atop plinths. It is here that Zevandir’s time in Aegis was to end, as upon a far and long ranging hunt, the catastrophe that caused all Aegeans to flee hit the world with force, and the lone hunter knew not of it, until returning to desolation. He built a boat, and swept after them, upon the tides of the cataclysm, to the world of Asulon, it was here that Zevandir could find no solace, wandering the glades of the Gypsies, unable to find purpose. Thus did he take again to the seas, a lone wolf once more, until, finally, he came to Anthos. It is here that his story again takes form, Zevandir can feel a sense of rebirth, and seeks to direct himself to the reconstruction of his former guild, the Hunters, and find quest to fill lost purpose, and to reconstruct his mighty ship, the Sea Fang, and take once more to the sea, to become the huntsman of the waves once more.

Fact sheet:

Chaotic Neutral

Tall, lean, muscled, tanned

Bleached hair

Scar, face and back

Very good with axe and bow

Superb hunter and sailor

Elven

Approx. 135 years

Reckless, powerful fighting style

Hunter

Aims: Restore ship, build the guild, a port/longhouse

Social connections: none

Diety: the sea is his god, the wind his aenguls

Like a lightning strike, quick to anger and forgive, however, can be a storm, slowly brooding before an unrelenting onslaught, lingering for days

[_Grim1_ 28]

ITS

ZEVVY

 

OMFG

 

 

oWo

[John (Zevandir) 80]

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