"Faramir" by Magali Villeneuve

• 
  * Name: Cuthwyrd
  * Species: Half-Elf
  * Age: 47
  * Height: 6'3"
  * Weight: 190lbs
  * Hair: black
  * Eyes: gray
  * Skin: white

• 
  * Occupation: Chieftain
  * Place of Birth: The Spine
  * Affiliation: Fyiama
  * Home:
  * Aliases: Grimeye, Longlegs, Wolf-faced, Sparrowhawk

Cuthwyrd is a grizzled man, with black hair and gray eyes shadowed within a stubbled face. His build is lean and muscular, with no spare fat or muscle on him, while his skin has been darkened and dried by exposure to the harsh mountain climate.

He typically dresses in thick wool tunic and leggings, draped in cloak and fur, with a long chain shirt that he can wear if he feels it necessary, while a large scarf often drapes its way around his neck. A roll of clothes and supplies is nearly always on his back.

As Chieftain, Cuthwyrd holds great skill with traveling and surviving in the mountains, through hunting, trapping, and able to build his own shelter. In addition, since many of his people have become shepherds of the high dales, he knows quite a bit about sheep and wool-making, while the necessity to lead his people into battle led him to being trained with sword and bow since he could lift them. This was honed and aided by his decade of serving with the Allirian Rangers under an assumed name.

In his bloodline, the chieftains have great skill with the knowledge and properties of plants, as well some innate talent at warding themselves and those close to them from magic. Although some debate the exact nature of the skill, they have great ability to speak and understand the tongues of beasts and birds, although if this is learned or magic, nobody is quite sure.

The Fyiama have no place for boastfulness or elegance. The mountains are a harsh place to live and rarely do individuals live to old age, even with their half-elven longevity. Cuthwyrd is no exception and is direct to the point of being rude. Some call him grim, yet there is a spark of mischief that exists within his eyes, although rarely is it expressed.

He speaks rarely, though only the truth, even to his foes, and he tends to act in a way to pass underneath the notice of those around him. For while amongst his people, he is a king, beyond the bounds of their mountain-realm, he is nothing but another untrustworthy vagabond, although within the Reach, he has loosened up a bit after his time with the Rangers.

Much has been forgotten through the ages of history, yet regardless of how obscure the lore, or cryptic the tale, there are those who remember, those for whom the old blood flows in their veins, and tales forgotten by the wisest Elbion master are remembered by mothers crooning to their children above the cradles, singing songs of forgotten kings.

Cuthwyrd is one such child, now grown to manhood, and into his role as the chieftain of the Fyiama, the scattered remnants of a kingdom of men and elves that dwelt in the Spine from the earliest days of history. Though forgotten by historians and the great cities, there are those who still dwell among the valleys and crags that once housed their long-crumbled holds and keeps, and they keep the memory alive. For thousands of years, the heirs to the throne, long-ago destroyed, have been raised as the chieftain of these hardy folk of the mountain, to guard and lead them, to settle disputes, and make decisions. Indeed, the half-elven blood strain runs rich through the veins of the sons and daughters of the ancient kings, granting them long-life and exceptional talent in the natural world.

With his father recently stepping down from his position, Cuthwyrd, recently returned from a period of service with the Allirian Rangers, has stepped into the role of Chieftain of the Fyiama. He now faces the difficult task of uniting the disparate, strong-headed people under his banner, to shepherd and guide them into the future.