Gweyr
| Gweyr | |
|---|---|
 Bust of Gweyr by DCLzexon | |
| Creator | The Observer |
| Information | |
| Species | Lupine |
| Gender | Female |
| Occupation |
Mercenary Captain (former) Bar Owner |
| Family |
Garret (son) Gwyn (daughter) |
| Spouse | Garth |
| Religion | Tiran |
| Location |
Glacial Rift (during Winter Wolf) Hawkethorne Nursery (post-Winter Wolf) |
| Stats | |
| Level | 6 |
| Health | 330 |
| Resolve | 204 |
"No good deed goes unpunished, [pc.name]. I single-handedly saved them all from being slaves to some madman in a robe, and there and then Sanders tells me to walk the ice, else they'd lynch me."
"My own wife whelped in the morning and was plowing the fields by midday. She's her mother's daughter, no two ways about it. We're a line of hardy, hearty folk, and Gwyn's mother was an exceptional woman. I miss her, I really do."
—Garth
"I don't really have any concrete memories of her save for her face. An old brick. The smell of blood, without any danger in it. Her hands on my head, for some reason. The streets, filled with snow. And... that's about it. I might care more about her fate than Gwyn does, but still not enough to hope that she'll ever come back. Life goes on."
—Garret
"I'm so much better than my own mommy, who shat Garret and I out, dumped us on Daddy first chance she got, and vanished. Fuck that bitch — don't know what Daddy ever saw in her, except maybe a warm body on a cold night."
—Gwyn
Appearance
If Garth is towering, Gweyr is massive. She's got at least a full head of height over her husband, and is thick to match; the constant cold of the rift has only encouraged her to grow stouter like everything else here in a bid to stave off the cold. Perhaps in her youth she might've been more stereotypically feminine and curvaceous, but the years and rigors of the Rift have taken their toll on her, turning her more stolid and blocky — or at least, what you can tell of her frame under the thick furs and pelts. Her fur is grey, but has been blotched to greyish-white in several places, especially about her muzzle; not that you can see most of it given how well she's wrapped up in her clothes.
And what clothes they are. The thick coat and fur-lined boots of leather and hide — all made by herself — are one thing, but the way she's bound her tail is another. It makes sense to wrap up her extremities like this lest she lose them to frostbite, but seeing the pelt tied about her tail like wrappings is... well. That's not to mention the snowshoes, or the slitted bone coverings she wears over her eyes, propped up upon her muzzle.
"You have to wear these when you go out during the day," Gweyr explains. "All the snow and ice constantly reflects the sun into your eyes, and if you don't protect yourself, you'll go blind; that's one of the first things I learned from the pale elves when I arrived in this place. Not all at once, but over weeks and months; the damage adds up and when you realise what's going on it's too late to do anything about it. And the snowshoes, they spread out my weight so I don't sink into drifts when I walk on them. Not that any of the natives have any problems with either... but if you're not born of the Rift, it hates you with a passion you can't even begin to imagine."
She certainly looks like a mad hermit, that's for sure. Meaty fingers and hammer hands bear hard, ragged claws, and you notice that several of Gweyr's teeth are misaligned and overgrown, jutting from her jaws like an orc's tusks.
Given that there's a source of hot water in her home, you don't imagine baths are in short supply, but soap... well, that's another matter. If anything, the wolfess looks like a weather-beaten boulder, if nothing else. Her arms and thews are thick, her bosom is as massive as it is solid, and while her furs are clearly comfortable and easy to move in they nevertheless give the impression that the wolfess is just straining at their seams with every step that she takes. A massive, imposing monster; it's not surprising how she wound up being the captain of a mercenary company in her youth, or how she and Garth wound up building a place as impressive as the Frost Hound between the two of them. Even so, up in this miserable place, perhaps Gweyr is at home in a hellscape that hates her as much as she hates it. Anyone lesser would've either perished or given up.
Interactions
First Encounter
To begin with, yes... Garth offered to let you stay free of charge indefinitely. You already have some idea of how all this is coming together, but you still have to say the words once more: just who is Gweyr?
"Garth's my husband, silly."
Paralogue
"Then why don't we make yourself comfortable by the fire, and I'll take you back to a time when Hawkethorne was a lot smaller than it is today..."
Thwarting Master Tollus
Homecoming
It takes a little longer than expected — not surprising in retrospect, but certainly melancholic. Gweyr pauses for a moment to inspect the hanging wolfshead sign over the entrance, to thumb the grain of the doorway's timbers. The old wolfess takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and then rubs her temples.
She's afraid.
Combat
| Stats | Likes | Dislikes | Powers | ||||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
|
|
|
| Stats | Likes | Dislikes | Powers | |||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
|
|
|
Quest Related
Winter Wolf
Gallery
'Casual' Gweyr
Young Gweyr
