Roland Grayson

Biographical information

Birthplace Vinvale Born Died Age Prime Home Where his head may rest Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Human Sub-Race Gender Male Height 6'3 Mass Muscular Hair color Dark Brown Eye color Brown Skin color White to tan

Political information

Affiliation(s) Occupation Sellsword; Farm-hand; Woodsman; Laborer; Whatever your coin requires Clan(s) Caste Domain Masters Apprentices Alias(es)

Out-of-character information

Writer @thegraywatcher Created on Avatar https://www.pinterest.com/pin/31525266129258501/ (avi); https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1337074877807989/ (bio)

Raise your glass to the boys born beneath the tower!
Raise your glass to the unwanted ones!
Vinvale wine the finest dyed by their blood!
Vinvale homes sturdy built by their gray bones!
Raise your glass to the nameless mutts!
Vinvale's forgotten sons!

Roland is a handsome man. Dark brown hair tied back in a tail or bun with thick, but not too thick, brows over his rich brown eyes. This beard is as full as his hair, both thick and curly. Tall and muscular with surprisingly few scars for a fighter. He is a perfect blend of what others would refer to as noble and knightly.

Knightly: Roland has all the skills one might expect from knights. Skill with arm. Familiarity with armor. Competent horsemanship. Willingness to raid and war for coin and favor. Can write decent poetry. Will give the world to a pretty face and lusty figure.

Jack-of-all-trades: Roland isn't the best at any one trade. He doesn't know the best way to harvest wheat, the best way to cut down a tree, nor any other skill laborers might pick up after years of dedication to their trade. But he is skilled enough to be competent at any one of them. He is quick on the pick up and quick to adapt to new tasks. This allows him to do whatever is required of him when it is required if only at an adequate degree. The sole exception to this is organizing a storeroom or treasury which he excels at.

Memory: Roland is mostly normal when it comes to recalling things, but there are a few things he is unusually good are remembering: faces and stories. If he is told a story of any kind it sticks in his head. Details can be recalled down to nearly the exact words used. Faces for him are similar even if he is average at recalling names. Not the most handy skill but one that comes in handy when boasting to a crowd.

There exists two Rolands: tavern Roland and on-the-job Roland.

Tavern Roland is carefree, boastful, and arrogant. Prone to sarcastic remarks and cutting comments. He thinks highly of himself and wants everyone else around him to know it. A good story and a good joke often on his lips. This is how he acts when around others in a casual setting away from his work.

On-the-job Roland is the opposite. The carefree and arrogant boasting is dropped, although his sense of humor does not. He still makes sarcastic remarks and cutting comments but the subject of both turns towards himself. He takes on his tasks with appropriate seriousness. A lack of confidence tends to linger about him, especially if he fails at something.

No matter which personality he falls into, Roland is always known for being rather tenacious and stubborn. Once he has his focus set it rarely can be shaken.

Rollie
Rollie Pollie
The Pillbug Knight
The Shortspear
The Brash Bastard
Tall Talker
Moron
Idiot

Vinvale, the jewel of the wine industry along the Western coast of the Allirian strait. The region and city by the same name ruled by House Halftower for centuries. Despite the constant conflict of the region, the city has stood firm without changing hands. Even with their towers half gone, Vinvale will hold strong!

It was in such a place that Roland was born, the bastard of the Lord Halftower to the daughter of one of his most loyal knight families. As a bastard he should have become a Grayson and by his spilled blood kept their safety and economy intact. But it was a fate he was never meant to meet.

Roland was raised not knowing his father when he was young. He simply just thought he was his mother's son. Happy and content, he idolized his grandfather and uncle. Both of whom were knights. When not being tasked to help the servants with their chores, he would be off reenacting the tales of glory and valor from his ancestors and their companions.

But when Roland approached the age of becoming a squire things suddenly changed. His noble father, who had always secretly kept him and his mother close by, was having trouble having a boy with his wife. They had three children, all girls, and a fourth child was on the way. When this newest half sibling of Roland's was born he was once more the big brother of a baby sister.

Talk of succession and needing an heir began to float around. Tension grew between his father and his noble wife. His mother began to get more attention from his father and more hatred from the wife. He did not know why any of this was happening, but he decided to become a knight and take his mother away to happiness. His father said no.

Lord Halftower put pressure on every knight. None would accept young Roland to squire. He could not serve under his own kin and so his chance was lost. They took pity and so began to teach him when they could not as an official squire but as a curious son. At this same time Lord Hightower began to have him tutored like his legal born son under the pretense of preparing him to become a page and servant.

So Roland spent his life being bounced around between being taught the skills of both sides of his blood. Every attempt he would make to become a squire dashed subtly by his father. Every attempt he would make to leave with his uncle away from the city stopped by his mother.

When Roland was finally a legal adult, he learned something that tore him apart. He had learned who his father was and how he had blocked his every attempt at becoming a knight over his selfish need for an heir. But it was not the worst truth he had learned. He learned his mother was not being forced to stay by his father. She had been his willing mistress and it was her suggestion he be kept in the city where his father could control his actions.

Roland could no longer stay. He gathered what he could, including his weapons and armor gifted to him by his uncle, and then fled the city one night.

Now out in the world, Roland abandoned both of his parents' surnames. He chose to be known as Grayson, a forgotten and forsaken bastard of Vinvale. Never would he set foot back in his home, or so he vowed.

Since that night he has done whatever was required of him to make the coin needed to live. Farm work. Cutting tree. Mining ore. Gutting fish. Gutting bandits. So long as the pay was good he would do it with the kind of personality he had heard those who sold their sword for coin had in his uncle's many tales.

Along the way he even picked up a cat as well as many a title.