St. Crispin

[Guest Ivan]

Name

St. Crispin

 

Pic

 

OOC History

My fourth and final Shallow Guild character. I guess you could describe him as a cross between A Rohirrim and Hagrid, but that's not really fair, is it?

 

Personality

Crispian St. Crispin, it must be said, was a terrible Guild Brother. Don't misunderstand. His loyalty to the Guild was (and is) absolute, his ability with The Voice is wholly remarkable, and his conduct as a Brother was exemplary. There are simply certain men in this world who- regardless of their promises or noble intentions- cannot be caged. Even the broad extradimensional vagaries of the Guildhouse were too confining. It couldn't be helped. St. Crispin was a pillar of The Guild, but he was ultimately unhappy and unfulfilled. His fondness for dueling (be it with pistol or blade) was too often unsatisfied. His hunter's cunning was poorly served on The Guildhouse grounds. Where he really suffered, however, was in the saddle. It is obvious to all who know him that he is a mere shade of himself at every other time. There are changes in him when he's riding that transcend the physical and psychological. He is the consummate horsemaster, so much so that it is improper to address him by his full name- Crispian St. Crispin- unless he is mounted. His abjuration had to be delicately orchestrated by Brother Dereleth in order to avoid any unnecessary tarnishing of his otherwise sterling reputation. Since that day he has been much happier, and his current role as Half Brother and Guild Stablemaster is well suited to his unique talents, while accommodating his adventurous nature. Although he lacks Dereleth's subtleties, he nonetheless strives to project a gentlemanly air at all times.

 

Fictional Character Biography

"By word, by deed, by sword and fire

The Rider sees the world entire."

-Oakim Darijs, Over Wet Sand

 

Given the depths of The Shallow Guild's devotion to secrecy and manipulation, one might naively assume The Guildhouse is an isolated place, populated solely by a small, insular collection of Machiavellian necromancers. In truth the Guildhall is a bustling, booming place at times, and the Shallow Guild of Bleak Sunrise maintains a vast network of allies, friends, spies, informants, and the like. All of these contacts must be maintained, and a surprising number require the due diligence of regular visits. This duty falls to Crispian St. Crispin, the Shallow Guild's Stablemaster and chief envoy. Unparalleled as a horseman, St. Crispin is capable of traveling speeds and distances untouched by even the most modern vehicles (although there are a few airplanes that come close,) and his skills with word and blade are both deft and calculated. In the early days of The Guild he was a Freeman, occasionally employed for his skills as a hunter. No one else could so swiftly and assuredly secure a live Basilisk, no one else could so stealthily track a Wyvern to her nest. His skill was undeniable, and he had always demonstrated loyalty to The Guild. So it was in 1551 when a Shallow Guild Brother accidentally insulted the family crest of a Spanish noble. This unfortunate incident led not only to the creation of the Shallow Guild's infamous Hanged Man Crest, (which is now lost, no doubt hidden among some Guild Brother's collection,) but to St .Crispin's brief tenure as a Brother of the Shallow Guild of Bleak Sunrise.

This specific story of began in El Escorial, in what is now known as The Valley of the Fallen. In those days the tradition among the Spanish gentry was that every landowner would hoist a banner, proclaiming the hunting conquests of the Lords of the Manner. Typical banners held a great stag or boar, or occasionally a bear or lion. The most impressive boasted magical beasts: Dragons, Griffins, etc. The Shallow Guild- unaccustomed to this sort of heraldry- balked at the initial suggestion that they, too, needed a banner, but a rare slip of the tongue by then-Guild Brother Ospek in the court of a local duke forced The Guild's hand. Ospek, having tasted too much Sangria and presented with a list of the legendary heraldic beasts, remarked that the Shallow Guild's banner wouldn't have room for all of them. The ill-tempered duke, whose own herald boasted a Cockatrice and a Lindworm- both slain by his own hand, demanded proof of Ospek's claim in one month, lest he take this outburst as a personal insult. Many options were considered, including vanishing outright, but it was Brother Dereleth who suggested simply complying with the duke's request. Crispian St. Crispin was already a legendary rider and hunter in those days, and had hunted for The Guild in the past. Even with his help The Shallow Guild Brothers could never conceivably fulfill the list in time, but Dereleth suggested making him a Guild Brother. So St. Crispin was hastily accepted as a Guild Brother, and when it came time to visit the arrogant duke, instead of presenting him a vast array of trophies, the Guild simply presented St. Crispin. He offered the duke the chance to choose any beast on the list, and the duke could personally witness him hunt and kill it. The duke, in his foolishness, chose the Unicorn. In his rage, St. Crispin grabbed the man by his neck and hanged him there on the spot, from beams of his own banquet hall. The Shallow Guild banner, which had been enchanted to display whatever beast St. Crispin killed that day, showed the hanged duke instead.

St. Crispin suffered under the constraints of Brotherhood for nearly thirty years until Haver and Dereleth conspired to mercifully "demote" him. Since that time he has served many roles for The Guild including messenger, diplomat, bounty hunter, and assassin. His current duties as Stablemaster allow him a good deal of freedom, which he exercises daily.

 

 

The Quick & Dirty Description

Crispian St. Crispin: Rider, Huntsman, Diplomat, Duelist, and Beast Master.

 

Powers and Abilities

St. Crispin's use of The Voice stands in stark contrast with traditionalists like Haver. He is a utilitarian, preferring to punctuate his stentorian baritone with the precision of single Voiced words, eschewing intricately woven dialogues. His use of The Voice in matters of command is well respected, and man and beast alike fall in line when he commands it. His powerfully heightened senses and natural hunter's intuition make him exceptionally sensitive to any instance of The Voice, however, and Shallow Guild Brothers must display a minor degree of caution when using their abilities near him. He has several inherent "traveler's blessings" that were bestowed on the day of his birth and cannot be muted. He cannot be unhorsed. When riding, he can always find a safe place for rest near water. Games of chance tend to end in his favor. He cannot be robbed while sleeping. Another, less frequently used ability is his whistle, which incorporates The Voice in such a way that beasts (and the bestial) for miles around find his mere presence irresistible. He is able to refine and direct this ability so that it targets specific individuals.

Crispian St. Crispin is a master rider and hunter, possessed of unsurpassed tracking abilities and unrivaled rider's marksmanship. He wields a modicum of magical talent, and is effectively immune to most combat magic. He also possesses a great deal of additional physical and magical resistance while mounted.

 

 

Equipment

Due to his time as a Guild Brother, St. Crispin has accrued a number of magical artifacts and weapons, including his personal rapier and dueling pistols, although his favored breech-loading flintlock hunting rifle remains unenhanced. His stirrups and saddles all favor Western and Spanish riding traditions, but he is not opposed to riding bareback. His riding coat contains a number of uncataloged enchantments.

 

Stable residents

St. Crispin serves, at present, as Guild Stablemaster. This is due in no small part to the fact that he is responsible for the inclusion of the majority of the Stable's residents. There are certainly more occupants than are listed here, as well as the ever-changing list of mounts belonging to guests of the Guild.

 

Tramontane- A tall, gray, Thoroughbred Stallion. By far the fastest of the Guild Horses, poems describing Tramontane claim that his legs never quite touch the ground. Tramontane is well suited to long, arduous rides, and has the most trouble being stabled.

 

Tacit- A beautiful, black, Arabian Mare. Her hooves make no noise when they fall upon the earth. Indeed St. Crispin seems to be capable of moving undetected entirely when riding her, making her the ideal choice for both hunting and espionage.

 

Tellus- An elderly, chestnut, Friesian Mare. Genial and complacent, Tellus is generally content to roam the pasture, and while St. Crispian rarely rides her himself anymore, she has a unique bond with him that allows her to hear his voice at all times. She has a calming influence over beast and man alike.

 

Long Meg- a giant Dun Cow, nearly three meters tall, whose supply of milk is inexhaustible. She is occasionally irritable but is easily placated with a mix of barley and honey.

 

Vae and Victus- Two fell colts descended from Bucephalus. Black as night with eyes of flame, their hooves strike sparks against the earth. It is unknown how St. Crispin manages to stable them, as they are clearly wild and unbroken, but a clue may lie in their distinct fondness for Tellus. They are, at present, too young to be tamed or ridden.

 

Kelton Spittol- Giant riding spider, a gift to The Guild from the King of Rooftop Albion. Kelton is severely adept at climbing- at speed- and capable of carrying great weights. Kelton is somewhat vain and preens incessantly, especially after being ridden. He has a fondness for hot tea.

 

Weathertop- Weathertop is Merle Silver's personal hot air balloon, with a temperament typically reserved for things with fangs. It is moored outside the stable.

 

Tecumseh- A rarely seen Vesperhawk, she is Crispian St. Crispin's personal hunting bird. Vesperhawks typically nest in fog or clouds and Tecumseh's roost is a small permanent rainstorm over the north corner of the stable, which also provides a constant supply of fresh drinking water to the stable's denizens.

[treacherous]

By my low brow standards, Ivan has a mastery of the English language. Everytime I read something by him, I feel as if I should speak in that Masterpiece Theatre voice.

 

This line...

 

"The Shallow Guild Banner, which had to be enchanted to display whatever beast St. Crispin had killed that day, showed the duke instead."

 

...is hilarious (to me anyway)

 

It interest me that you included the stable residents. I like that. A tea drinking, riding spider? Where do you come up with that?

 

Anyway, I like it. No problems for me.

[Guest Ivan]

A tea drinking, riding spider? Where do you come up with that?

 

In the original description he was a Cockney riding spider, but I didn't want him speaking, so I settled for making him drink tea and giving him the most English name I've ever come up with.