SA // Ruaridh - War-Forged - Shield

ASTRAL POINTS: +5 AP

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General Information

Name-- Ruaridh (Pronounced: Ror-ree)
Nickname-- Ru? But honestly? He doesn't like nicknames. 
Age--  35
Gender / identifies as--  Male / Stallion
Breed-- Fjord mongrel... There's some dutch warmblood, some Egyptian arabian, welsh cob somewhere along the line? Bit of a mutt really. There must be some Appaloosa blood in there somewhere as well, as his tail seems unnaturally sparse in hair. (GOD... don't mention the tail, its a bit of a sore point. If tail envy was a thing, he'd have it, let's put it that way).
Color--  Dun. Basically characteristic Fjord colouring. Has a white lace marking which seems to have been carried along his mother’s line. 
Height--  17hh - tall, but obviously not from his Arab or Fjord roots... More than likely the Dutch warmblood end if the spectrum. 
Orientation-- Pansexual. Tends to blow hot and cold with his interest swinging from intense, to indifference without so much as a thought.
Mate-- None
Progeny -- SA | Rona | War Forged | Valkyrie

Herd Affiliation-- War-Forged
Rank-- Shield
Talent --
First Blessing --
Second Blessing --
Patron God[s] -- Kaia

Voice Actor-- Aidan Turner -- m.youtube.com/watch?v=sCpKGZbI…

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Personality

 Ruaridh is the full embodiment of extremes and intensity. He is a very deep, intense personality, there is always more than meets the eye. He presents a cool, detached and unemotional air to the world yet lying underneath is tremendous power, extreme strength, intense passion and a strong will and a persistent drive. He has a very penetrative mind, do not be surprised if he asks questions, it is his way of delving deeper and figuring things out. He always wants to know why, where and any other possible detail he can possibly know. Ruaridh gets very weary of the games that other people try to play and remains very canny to them. He tends to dominate and control anyone that lets him. The individuals that Ruaridh respects and holds close to him are treated with amazing kindness, loyalty and generosity. On the outside, he has great secretiveness and mystery. This magnetically draws others to him. He is known to be controlling and too ambitious at times  but only because of his need for control. It is this control that makes him feel safe.

Introspective | Volatile | Witty | Sarcastic | Charmismatic | Stalwart | Steadfast | Obstinate | Mellow 

INTROSPECTIVE
"When words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain." -- William Shakespeare

Why introspective? Well, he tends to keep his mouth shut. He is the sort of individual who will only speak once in a blue moon. Not because he doesn't know how to, or doesn't have the capacity to, but because he knows that the careless use of words can cost a lot in certain situations. He'd rather stand sentinel to situations, and chip in only when invited to. He spends a lot of time combing through things in his head. Stoic and brooding one might say. He tends to be fairly cold outwardly, but there is a hive of activity going on in that headcase of his. He's not shy, as such, but one might label it as some sort of social awkwardness.

VOLATILE
"Well, yes, I'd love t-- WHAT THE ACTUAL F*** DID YOU JUST SAY?"

Jekyll and Hyde complex, much? Yes, ok. He might be fairly inward as far as personalities go, but that isn't to say that he doesn't have his moments of outright explosive attitude. There are occasions where someone has pushed him just that fraction too far, and they have been left in a mushroom cloud of destruction left by Ruaridh's special brand of volatility. He does, however, have the uncanny ability to control this pyroclastic flow of frustration and angst, and can channel it into something other than physical aggression (unless it is, indeed, warranted... If so, you had better start looking skyward).

WITTY
"I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by." - Douglas Adams

Perhaps we're selling him short here. Now, whilst he might be one of the 'jar-head infantry boys', and as such has more than likely earned himself the reputation for having one if not several screws loose, he is witty. He really does have his moments of humor that border brilliance. His intelligence really does shine through at times, even though those times tend to be few and far between simply due to the very nature of the beast.

SARCASTIC
"I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me." - Fred Allen

Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, which sort of contradicts the previous point. In this case, however, it is merely used to illustrate his cynicism. He's not the sunniest of personalities, but whilst this might be the case, he does try to render his otherwise monochromatic existence with a little drip of saccharine sarcasm every now and again. It just adds a little sunshine to an otherwise grey day, albeit somewhat a similar comparison between actual sunlight and false neon strip lighting. He does tend to pick and choose his moments excellently, as well, meaning that a lot of the sarcasm he uses is often jarring, biting and sometimes down right aggressive.

CHARISMATIC
"Lack of charmisma can be fatal" - Jenny Holzer

For all his faults, he is charming. He really can shine when he needs to. Despite his normal lack of words, and stark stoicism, this boy really does have a silver tongue and he knows how to use it. Whilst he's talking you into something, he's talking himself out of a situation without you even realizing it. He could sell sand to the desert without trying. Though he is a man of few words, he picks and chooses them and knits them together well enough to be embroidered in your memory, without you even knowing.

STALWART

He's a tough old bean. A strong and valiant creature who tends to put himself in the firing line without a second thought. This is more than likely one of the reasons he is so useful. He might be physically tough, but he is also mentally strong. He knows his own mind, and is very rarely swayed.

STEADFAST

Yes, he is loyal to a fault. This isn't something he shows outwardly at all, in fact his background suggests that really the only individual you can rely on is yourself, as taught to him by his mother. Despite this, he can't help but quietly feel an allegiance to his herd and all that they stand for. Ok so some things that they do might be disagreeable to most, and yes they fight a lot, and squabble, and pillage and so on and so forth, but its home. They are a dysfunctional brotherhood family type thing, and he is more than happy to stick by them. Likewise, if you find yourself able to get past the reinforced carbon steel shutters, you too might be privy to some fabled loyalty.

OBSTINATE

Intrinsically, eternally, obstinate. He really is the epitome of 'stubborn old goat'. It is his way or the highway. To be honest, when he's decided he's right he'll make every effort to prove you wrong even if you're the one who is, in actual fact, right. He's honestly that stubborn. He'll rarely admit he's wrong, which has got him into many a sticky situation in the past. It isn't something that seems to have diluted with age, either. It just seems to get worse and worse with years. A mule has nothing on him.

MELLOW

All being said, he is a laid-back guy. Gentle and 90% of the time locked in his own thoughts, with his mouth zipped right up. He's chilled out. He thinks things through. He's not a 'flower child' as such, but he is easy-going most of the time which makes him a fairly easy personality to rub along with.

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History

PRE-BIRTH

Ru's parents never really called anywhere home, as such. How can you be 'home' when your heart lays elsewhere? Wren, his mother, was born a highborn in Aodh, and Ru's father, Tyne, was a captured Vagabond pit fighter. Wren always had itchy feet, as it were. Whilst she had everything she could ever want, she found herself dissatisfied. She spent a lot of time on her own, roaming the citadel and avoiding anything to do with her family. She was strongly against the enslavement of others, believing that freedom was the most valuable commodity, and there she was, a bird caged- at the mercy of her slave owning father. 

Tyne was born a vagabond, to vagabond parents. He was brought up by his mother alone, and would always prove to be an eye catcher. Now, whilst the vagabond capture rule in Aodh stood strong, Tyne was a full bodied, and strapping testament to the fact that the law was, for want of a better phrase, merely lip service. He bore the scars of chains, of barbed whips and the memory of fights won and lost across his smokey hide. The thrill of pit fighting suited him, but being a captive did not.

Wren's mother and father knew all too well that their daughter intensely disliked their slave owning status, not to mention the fact that as the days drew on, she was spending more and more time away. So, she was dragged, almost quite literally, to the slave market one day, possibly to prove a point- call it a family day out, or something equally as distasteful. Obviously her father was bone headed enough to even attempt to shoe-horn Wren into his ideals, and made it her privilege to pick a pit fighter for his collection. This was a huge responsibility, something that Wren had no idea about having shown no interest in the past. Investing in this slave would mean making or breaking her father's fortune. He was entrusting an individual who couldn't have given a flying monkey, with the family's future. Perhaps she should have paid more attention.

She reluctantly agreed, at the behest of her mother, and walked through the lines of brutish stallions, with her father by her side. There would be several that would take her attention, but it would be Tyne on which her focus would settle. He was chained at the furthest end of the middle row, surrounded by Percheron, Ardennes and various other hefty draft breeds. A heavy set, and yet somehow fine boned, tall grullo, marked across the chest with one of the most extensive burn scars she had ever seen. He was charming, and only spoke when spoken to, and despite her father sizing him up and finding him wanting, his daughter had chosen.

Tyne would prove a successful purchase for Wren's family, winning numerous fights in the pits, and as such, creating a decent income. However, the terms of his purchase did not entail taking a shine to the family's eldest daughter. Suffice to say, that when Wren announced she was carrying a foal, and the father was their champion pit fighter... Wren's father very nearly dropped dead on the spot (which would have been preferable to what actually happened...)

For the safety of their child, they fled the city. A vagabond pit fighter, and an Aodh noble... A mismatch indeed.

FOAL-HOOD
So it would be that, Ruaridh was born, essentially in an exile situation. Away from the protection of a family nucleus, but nurtured nonetheless. Wren's family had scouts searching for her from the word go, from the very minute she slipped beyond the gates. She cropped her mane short, and essentially changed her appearance, and her name. She'd announce herself as Emery, and over time her birth name was lost in the ether.

Ru was born in the middle of winter, a crisp and frosty morning with the promise of a dusting of white from gravid grey clouds. Tyne wasn't there for his birth, the blissful days prior, yes, but he was tracked down, beaten and dragged back to the pits. He would forever be put in at a disadvantage, as penance for what he'd done, a stake driven into his upper right fore, and a bridle with a barbed bit, and curb. Falling in love with a noble mare, when you're a pit fighter, really is rather frowned upon. Who knew?

Wren escaped, determined not to return to the citadel for the birth of her child, she shepherded the newborn away, putting more and more distance between herself and her place of birth. It didn't take her long to settle into the vagabond way of life, as it suited her intrinsic need to roam free, and her pathological distaste for riches. Wren brought Ruaridh up on her own, with no input from a father figure.

Ruaridh learned everything he needed from his mother, from etiquette to how to fight. She'd paid enough attention from Tyne to know the basics. His youth was, uneventful as far as he was concerned at the time, but he would later come to realize that his heart would be taken to greater heights, quite literally. 

ADOLESCENCE
Their travels took them through various kingdoms, and whilst they may have taken on various names, and guises during that time, they managed to pass through pretty much undetected. It became a game, avoiding the Aodh scouts, or testing their resolve. From the deserts of Serora, to warren caves of Breim, Talori and back to vagabond territory, they had visited every corner of the land over the years, fleeing the clutches of Wren's family.

Entering adolescence, Ru found himself wanting more from his existence. He'd not tested his abilities, he'd not ever felt the tug of his heart strings. As far as he was concerned, he had no real purpose. He just felt as if he was walking through his days without so much as a reason to continue on. He's never truly been one to settle down in one place simply due to the influence of his mother, no choice one might say, but he remained clueless to it until the dawn of his eighteenth year.

The lack of a family unit growing up seemed to take its toll. He had a feminine influence, but little in the way of male role model, if any at all. On one of their travels to other herd lands, they chanced across the War-Forged. How do you chance across a thing like that, you might ask. Well, the foothills of the mountains were very much a choice area to be brought up. Ru had enjoyed the mixture of warm, and cool climate that resided in the lowlands, but the snowy peaks had always been a point of interest.

The treacherous conditions, and the peril associated with ever moving ice walls, and rock faces seemed to be a draw to the youngling, much to his mother's never ending concern. Wren was reluctant to stay with any group for longer than a few months, and once she realized the strong links with Aodh, and the presence of Aodh ambassadors within the ranks, she became extremely restless, and twitchy. It hadn't even occurred to her son, at all.

Ru was taken aback by the masculine atmosphere, by what was demanded of him having been brought up fairly softly. It was arduous, back breaking work at times. He came into his own, and his mother, though proud, couldn't help but fear that his colouring and features would be recognized. 

Sadly, it would be a day when Ru had been taken to finish a land bridge with some of the other younger stallions, that his mother would be recaptured by Aodh. It was almost like it had been preempted. There had been whispering through the ranks that an escaped noble mare had been sighted, and Ru would come back to find his mother nowhere to be seen. She was whisked back to Aodh, where she, to this day, is ensconced within the walls of her family's home. 

<sup>ADULTHOOD
Days turned into weeks, and weeks to months and once several years had passed, Wren was allowed to visit her son under the watch of guards. There were many meetings, under the forceful glower of Aodh guards. He had met a mare, had fallen in love and had clearly been busy given the generous swell to her belly. Wren liked Edda, she gave Ruaridh a confidence, and a softness that he, otherwise, would not have had. She watched Edda blossom through her pregnancy, and watched fondly as her only son flourished along side her.

Ruaridh, unlike many males, was there for the birth of his daughter. Edda had been acting very strangely, and quietly, Ru knew that the time had come. He allowed her her space, but wasn't far from the spot she had chosen. He only made himself known when the filly was standing. Ru would never admit it, but the minute he clapped eyes on the little grey creature, with her tight curly mane, and bright brown eyes, his paternal instinct kicked right in. Rona would forever be his pride, and his joy in life.

In the time between the loss of his mother, and her return, Ruaridh had been searching for both her, and his father, to no avail. Thankfully, the links between the two herds proved useful for visiting purposes. He searched the pits for any sign of his father, but when his name was mentioned, he was confronted by the cold shoulder, or worse. The day he gave up looking, was the day that Wren came back to him. Sadly, it was the day that he lost Edda. An avalanche snatched her away from the bosom of their small family, and Wren returned to the mountains to find her son, and much cherished granddaughter in mourning. Edda was gone, and a piece of her son went with her.

Ru slowly rose through the ranks of the herd, and earned his respect by simply, being. Several times he was pitted against other larger stallions, and won through. A test of his strength, and his abilities. Suffice to say he had his fair share of failure, and sports the scars of his encounters. 

Initially, he started out as a raider, a position that his father would have more than likely quirked a brow at. From a young colt just settling in the mountains, to the year at which his role was to change- he trained hard. He was bullied by the larger brutes in his age band for being the somewhat shorter, and stockier build of a fjord- but the jeering didn't stop him. If anything it fueled his zeal and desire to succeed.

For many years he went out, looting, gathering and protecting the highlands from invasion. He was good at his job, and worked hard for the purposes of keeping his herd, his leader and most importantly his family safe from harm. It was the loss of Edda, and the need to protect his child that spurred him to fight for a position as shield. Rona would need a role model, and what good would he do stagnating in his role as raider until his last breath? He needed, more than anything, to prove to her that if you worked hard, fought hard- your goals could be achieved.

So it would be, that he tirelessly fought, and worked to get into the tight circle that serves as the war-lord's bodyguards, and kinsmen. If he were to do it for himself, and not for the love of his herd, or his family- he would never have succeeded, but with the thought of his little girl at the forefront of his mind, he powered through. He attained his position a few short years ago, in his thirty-third year, having been one of the herds more experienced and revered raiders beforehand. 

Even now, and despite his relative comfort within a structured environment, he is restless. Perhaps its deep in his genetic make up, whatever it is, he's inherited his mother's lust for travelling. Tyne remains a mystery to him, but from what he's heard in the Citadel, both he and his mother are thriving, against the odds.</sup> 

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Items in Item Bay (Always Active Items)

- CW Transfer Totem

Other Items (Inactive Unless Otherwise Specified)

N/a

Familiar[s]

N/a

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Tasty Tidbits

- Ruaridh has a lot of respect for the mares in the herd, and mares in general. It is a deep seated respect that he doesn't shout about but he really does admire their strength. They put up with more than he could ever tolerate, at least that is the way he sees it.
- Tends to spend a lot of time on his own, and is prone to muttering darkly to himself. He is completely aware of the fact that it makes him look a little cuckoo.
- Tyne, Ruaridh's father, was beaten and left for dead. He is currently in the pits, fighting for his life... Its a meager existence especially considering the handicap they have dutifully bestowed upon him as a punishment.
- More will be added as he divulges...

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Please do not copy, trace, heavily reference or claim as your own work. Thank you.

art and character (c) hypnocampus
Starborn-Alignment (c) Queerly and co.
History help from jodifarrow22 because... My muse desiccated.