Halvard [Ready]

[Blueblood]

Name: Halvard, of Clan Breen

Gender: Male

Age: Adult

Species: Caribou

Eye Color: Slate Blue

Character Color: In it's natural coloration, Halvard's coat is an unremarkable gray. The pattern is nothing unusual either: lighter on the chest and stomach, and darker along the back and flanks. However, like much of his clan he has tinted his fur all over with crushed bluestone, making him look like nothing so much as an ambulatory iceberg.

Mane: Brown, and the only part of him not tinted in his clan's color. He keeps it short, so as to not snag in his helmet.

Physique: Stocky. Not overly burdened with bulk in either fat or muscle, but obviously built more for enduring rather than engaging in charges. You can see it especially in his stance and in his pace while walking. Every step is cool, smooth, and deliberate; no energy is wasted when Halvard moves, and when he stops, he is as still and steady as a rock. He does both with equal ease whether he is only draped in a fur cloak, or whether he is suited fully in his set of heavy armor, a prized and cherished possession of his.

Residence: The cities of Barn and Heil, depending on where his duties take him.

Occupation: Vakstrya (guardian) over the routes of Whitescar; primarily the one between the port of Barn and the High King's seat of Heil.

Cutie Mark: None. The closest thing he has is the emblazoning of his clan's mark on the chestplate of his armor, the rune for B, cleft down the middle as if carved by a glacier.

History: Halvard was born in deep in the territory of Clan Breen, on the far western coast of Whitescar. There, the land has been scoured by the many glaciers that have given their name to the clan in the tongue of the caribou. Being isolated for generations on the literal fringe of the caribou lands, the clan had developed many peculiar customs and traditions, which range from the purely cosmetic coloring of their coats with blue powdered stone, to significant variations in myths and their interpretation.

Not that the young caribou born in the shadows of the fjords knew that. Halvard was a typical caribou child, respectful of the dictums of his elders, hopeful of being counted a good member of his clan, and eager to begin learning to fight as soon as possible. This he did in good time, according to the methods of Clan Breen. And here is where the first difference came in: where most other shamans in most other clans passed on the common saying that, "The strong survive," in the far past of the clan their founding shaman had rendered it, "The survivors are those who are strong."

This minor difference in wording led ultimately to a strong emphasis on endurance and counter-strikes in Clan Breen's fighting style. As one of their great warriors put it, "Some fights are won by obtaining the first strike. All fights are won by obtaining the last." Halvard, much struck by the wisdom and wit of this saying, took it to heart, and lives by it to this day.

The same emphasis upon endurance also applied to group tactics and strategy within the clan as well as individual fighting, leading them to stress fortification and resource management in their training of the young. This, Halvard also dutifully applied himself to, and by the time he came to his Will Test, he could dig a trench as well as patrol it, and could go farther on less bread than most his age.

His parents, typical defensive warriors of Clan Breen, crushed the bluestone for their son's first coloration before sending him off to the Southern Wilds. The first leg of Halvard's journey was a lengthy march to exit the lands of Clan Breen, for while their growth was slow, it had been steady, like the advance of their namesake. Many a neighboring rival had taken their lack of aggression for weakness and led raids against them, only to find themselves too exhausted by the end of the next growing season to dislodge Clan Breen from new entrenchments in their own territories.

After many days, Halvard finally found himself in the lands where caribou did not have blue coats. There, he discovered that those who did not think of Clan Breen as weak nevertheless thought of them as weird. Far from discouraging him or making him question the customs of his kind, this only made the young caribou even more proud of being distinct from them; he need carry no banner to proclaim the name of his Clan! Confirmed in his identity, like his fathers before him, he pressed on.

At long last, he arrived at the Southern Wilds. This would be the last, and hardest, leg of his outward journey. The flower of Clan Breen, the delicate teal Eisbiscus, grew nowhere else. Fortunately, Halvard's training had well prepared him for the ardors of trudging through monster-infested territory. It helped that he did not waste time trying to kill everything he came across, as that would have been a waste of time and energy. He fought just enough to demonstrate to the local fauna that there were far easier prey options available, and retrieved the Eisbiscus blossom with little major trouble.

His return to the clan was a joyous one, but his stay was destined not to be long. While Clan Breen was extremely careful in managing the resources of its territory, that usually meant that most born to it survived to adulthood, which tended to put a strain upon them later down the road. The cautious nature of their fighting also meant there was little in the way of combat attrition to relieve the pressure. Not enough caribou failed their Will Test to justify summary banishment, so that left only one way to preserve balance.

On the years decided by the shaman, all adult caribou would submit a marked piece of wood with their name marked in runes. After calling upon the wisdom of the gods, the shaman would draw as many names at random as was needed to keep the clan's resources in balance, and those caribou would be sent off. Unlike most clans, who would send out their weakest warriors, Breen had long ago decided to leave it to the decision of their deities as to whether the clan would be worse for losing its best warrior, or best bee-keeper. It was the opinion of most of them that the gods had decided wisely so far.

Halvard's name was drawn the very year of his return. But, such was the way of his clan, and he did not complain. After all, he was not expunged from the clan itself, only told to seek his life and fortune outside of their western homeland. Though it was, admittedly, with a heavy heart that he left, he knew that, in the cities of Heil and Barn, as well as fortified spots along the roads, those who had been sent out before him and who still wore their coats of blue would recognize and welcome him.

He arrived in Barn, and quickly found houses where his clan-mates had settled. Such land as they had secured in the city was considered by them to be Clan territory, and so any Breen member was welcome therein. Halvard soon learned that there were many places for a caribou of his talents; the skills valued by the Breen were useful in the running of a city and the guarding of Whitescar's roads. He soon found a place among those who guarded the roads between Barn and Heil, known as the Vakstyra. And so he lives to this day, keeping watch over the travelers between the cities during the day, and drinking with his fellow-exiles in the evening.

Character Summary/Personality: As with most exiles, Halvard has, if anything, exaggerated all the characteristics that mark him as unlike those around him, as protection against losing his heritage and identity. Clan Breen members will often color their hides blue like glacier ice; Halvard is never seen in any other color. His clan fight defensively; Halvard has used his Vakstrya pay on a full suit of armor, which is actually rather rare among most caribou, who prefer to maintain mobility.

Even his choice of weapon is peculiar. Clan Breen, in their own homeland, mostly fight with the normal weapons of the Vikings, but sometimes they have been caught in the middle of building their signature fortifications. In many memorable cases, they have fought their foes armed with nothing but shovels. Halvard's own weapon is based upon this principle. It consists of a heavy broad shovel blade, sharpened at the edges, atop a warhammer head that is flat at one end and a spike on the other. It can function, therefore, as both a building tool and a weapon at once.

In conversation, Halvard observes the same principle that he does in battle. He almost never initiates it, but he is always ready to respond, even with wit, when he can manage it. Sometimes, though, his bon mots are lost upon his audience, since they refer to things peculiar to his clan, and therefore sound like complete nonsense. ("Well, that's just the last vegetable.")

His attitude towards High King Dragonsong is the same along with the rest of his clan. On the one hand, Clan Breen are among the most conservative of the caribou, insofar as they resist changes to their tradition from the outside. On the other hand, their peculiar position, particularly their developed propensity for administration, along with the community of loyal exiles throughout Whitescar, means that they stand to gain quite a lot from a more peaceful future for their lands. So, they agree to stand with the King... as long as he does not ask them to kneel.

[Armony]

How is this application coming along?

[Blueblood]

Slow. I'll probably get some more work done on it tomorrow.

[Elderflower]

Excellent app, Halvard will make for a great addition to the 'bous of Canterlot.

I'm passing this up!

[SteelEagle]