 HOWARD CHARLES MALE 15/04/1209 33 HETEROSEXUAL HUMAN INNKEEPER |
“ ‘And over the hills,
the sparrow did fly
away-o! away-o!
Looking for the warmth of a summer
day-o! day-o!’ -
Oh, good morn! Pardon my warbling - I wasn’t expecting anyone this early. But don’t keep the door open, lass, you’re letting all that cold morning air in! Come in, come in, sit down. You look like you’ve been traveling a good long way, and through the night, too!
You look like you need some porridge, you do. We do a good bowl of porridge here - in fact, if I so say so myself, all our food is good. We don’t cut any corners at The Crimson Arms, oh no!
So what brings you to our little village? It’s not a bad place, Elvedon, that’s for sure, but it’s not the centre of the world, either. My parents ran this Inn when I was born - it’s been in the family generations - but I wanted to see the world, I wanted adventure and so I ran off to join the Constables when I was 14. A year too early to sign up, of course, but I was tall and solid and they believed me when I lied about my age.
Gods, but training was hard. I thought I was strong and quick, but they soon proved me wrong. But I worked at it, and didn’t bow out when things got tough, and then I was being paired up with more experienced Constables to learn, and soon enough I was a Constable myself. Now, that was a day, I can tell you. Don’t remember much of the night, we celebrated that hard, for there was a whole bunch of us who got brought out of training at the same time. We were close, and, oh, how we partied.
I was in Faywinne for six years, after that, helping to keep the peace. And if I do say so myself, I was good at it. It helped I was bigger than half the people I came up against - a lot of thieves and the like backed down pretty quickly once I showed up. It was good work, honest work. Not easy, of course, but I was younger then, and I enjoyed the challenge of it… enjoyed the buzz of the city. Elvedon always seemed so small when I came home to visit my parents and my siblings…
After those six years I started being posted out through Edendacia. I was never like Constable Faucon, never in a place for longer than half a year or so, but that suited me. Kept me moving - met a lot of good people, bad oens too, saw a lot of interesting things. Even got into Gwarein when their Constables - though they don’t call them that there - needed some help with some bandits, and we popped across the border to help. I went over to Tyda too, with a friend of mine in the Constables who was from there. We were partnered together for seven years me and him, half the time I was in Faywinne, then four years after. He found love after that, left the force, settled down to farm in Gwarewin… We still write - he has three kids now.
I kept on, though. It was a good life, and I might still be in it now if it weren’t for a small village in the south… I’d only been in a couple of weeks - five of us sent in to help the local Constable with werewolves - ha, that’s got your attention, I see! There were definitely werewolves, five of them - they gave me this wrecked leg - didn’t bite me, thank the Gods, but tore it up something terrible… I wouldn’t have lived if it hadn’t been for a healer warlock who was in the village. Good bloke, he was.
The werewolves were… Y’know, it’s funny, the thing I remember best - apart from pain and bleeding everywhere, that sort of thing - was how terrified a couple of them looked right before they became wolves. Three of them obviously really got off on the power, or whatever, but two of them… I think it was probably a mercy, us killing them, really. Poor bastards didn’t want to be wolves any more than you or I do.
Anyway. That put me out of the Constables, and I knew that pretty much as soon as I woke up. I hobbled around for months, I did. I still limp a bit now - always will - but thanks to that warlock it healed up pretty good. But still. That was that. The end of 15 years as a Constable. I came home, then, and took up running this place.
Sometimes I think I should see that as more of a defeat but, really, I’m very happy. Happy as I was when I was a Constable, I’d say. Everything comes to an end, after all, and I had a good run, did good work… And can still do good work now. My parents were old when I got back - they passed about a year after I returned - and the inn was a bit run down, my siblings hadn’t wanted it, you see. But I’ve brought it back up, made it into a grand place. Not fancy, not like things you’ll get in Faywinne, but good. I’ve still got my sword and mail, you know, should I need ‘em. Sword’s behind the bar…
Sometimes I wonder if I will. Things are getting dark around here, take my word as warning, lassie. The woods aren’t friendly places, especially not at night. Witches, and werewolves, and spirits in the night… Gods, I’d be the first to say not all of those are bad, but there’s evil blood in some of those kinds… But then there’s evil blood in humans like you or me, as well. Still, if need be I’ll stand for Elvedon. It’s a good village, with good people, and I’ll give what I can.
But dear me, I have been talking on, haven’t I? You just sit there, near the fire, and I’ll get you some porridge… will you be wanting a room for the evening?”
A large man with an equally large personality, Evaric is a straightforward soul - what you see with him is what you get. He isn’t one for pretending to be anything he isn’t, and frankly cannot be bothered with guile: if he has something to say, he will say it. To that end, he can be very blunt, saying what he means often with little tact, but then again, very genuine, for he always means what he says. Not a particularly subtle person, he tends to attack problems straight on, and wouldn't know how to manipulate anyone even if he wanted to. To that end, he can be manipulated himself, for he will generally want to believe the best in people, and his direct approach to life isn't always the best one to take. If you want someone who will tread lightly around an issue, then Evaric is definitely not your man!
He is, in fact, a very genuine person, who though rather bluff, cares for those around him, and has a distinctly protective air. Happy to sit and listen to anyone tell them about his problems, he is a firm believer that a warm meal, a sympathetic ear and a good bed can solve a lot of problems, and so will invite pretty much anyone he thinks needs it back to his inn - and, in a not particularly business-minded way, offer the inn’s services for free if the occasion demands it. It was this desire to protect others and stand up for people that drove him to be a Constable for a time, and it is also what causes his temper to flare if he thinks others are being threatened or pushed around.
Generally a good-natured soul, he has his feet planted solidly upon the ground, and isn’t one for much imagination. He believes in what he can see or touch, but is fairly open-minded along with that, having seem some strange things both in Elvedon and elsewhere. Garrulous and sociable, he likes a good party and a hearty laugh, and there is little that will unsettle him or tickle his anger, unless it involves other people being threatened. Once you start him talking it can be difficult to get him to stop, and he's one of those people that has an anecdote for absolutely every situation. He also cannot sing to save his life, and unfortunately believes otherwise.
He still has his weapons from his days as a Constable, and though an encounter with a pack of werewolves shredded one of his legs, leaving him with a permanent limp and impaired mobility and putting an end to his days as a Constable, he keeps as fit as he is able. Several years after the accident - helped by the fact that a Warlock lent his talents to the wound at the time - while he still walks with a distinctive limp and will never be graceful, he can move fairly well, and makes sure to maintain that, so that if ever should need to pick up a weapon in defense again, he will be ready.
One might have expected that encounter to give him a hatred of supernatural creatures, but in fact one of the things that struck him most about the encounter was how unwilling and terrified some of the werewolves had been in their human form, before the shift had been forced upon them. As such, he cannot see werewolves or the like as any more inherently evil than people, and his philosophy is to live and let live. Compassionate and deeply moral, he tends to believe in the innate goodness of the world, but has short shrift for those who try to justify causing pain to others.
He runs an honest business, and though sometimes people roll their eyes at his willingness to offer free beds to people who can’t afford them, no-one can deny that that friendliness and compassion doesn’t give The Crimson Arms a welcoming, homely air. He treats his staff and his customers well and fairly, but is fairly strict on those who drink too much and end up rowdy or violent. There’s always the tavern, he says, for people who want that. He can be physically intimidating, for he is both tall and broad, has a scar that slashes across his left eye (thankfully having left the eye intact) and can level a fearsome frown at people, but when he smiles or laughs his whole body lights up with cheer, and it is then almost impossible to still be afraid of him... both of which are good traits to have as an innkeeper - the former for getting rid of troublesome customers, and the second for welcoming people in.
His years as Constable - 16 of them - have given him a more worldly air than some in Elvedon, for he traveled much of Edendacia and even to Gwarewin and Tyda. Still, he possesses a love for his home village - even if it was one he didn’t realise until after he’d left - and loves the forest, the moors, the sea… even as he respects them and the dangers they can hold. He enjoyed at the time and still treasures the memory of his adventurous younger days, but he is now very happy running his family's inn, participating in the small community of the village, and giving his best to the world. In fact, the only things he wishes he had was a family of his own, for while he loves his siblings, he can't help but think that a wife and maybe even a child would be wonderful... but then he thinks maybe it's too late for that, and that he should just be satisfied with what he has.
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