The Bramble Druid Dai

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Rhys Dai Gawain







A former Grey Oaks militiaman, Dai has spent the last few years adapting to Mielikki's blessing and becoming an Arm of the Forest. Standing six feet tall the young man is almost exclusively seen in his plain kilt and beetle scale armour. His arms are dressed with charcoal runes that smother the many tattoos he has, excepting the unicorn head that can been clearly on the inside of his left forearm. When not wearing his armour his chest is bedecked by runes and wards in the same way his arms are. A waxing moon and full sun are tattooed in blue under each collar bone and a small bear claw at the top of his sternum. The sides of his head are shaved and a small mane of hair is usually drawn back with a small band, but he has been seen with it slicked back with mud or more loosely with water. Upon his face resides a patchy out crop of facial hair that clings to his cheeks and chin. His heavy welsh accent is deep and smooth with a slight lilt to it suggesting he enjoys a good, rousing song. He can often be heard whistling his old militia song when on a trek or sorting through his back pack to check on his rations and the state of his equipment.


Having been in isolation for so long, his social skills are lacking but he is slowly adapting to a life back in civilisation again.

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The Militia song - 

Tongues of fire on Cyndusk flaring, 

news of green skin near declaring, 

to heroic deeds of daring, 

calls you Cormyr men 

Groans of wounded peasants dying, 

wails of wives and children flying, 

for the distant succour crying, 

calls you Cormyr men. 

Shall the voice of wailing, 

now be unavailing, 

You to rouse who never yet 

in battles hour were failing, 

His our answer crowds down pouring 

swift as winter torrents roaring, 

Not in vain the voice imploring, 

calls on Cormyr men.

Loud the martial pipes are sounding 

every manly heart is bounding 

on to King's Wood Orc surrounding, 

march we Cormyr men. 

Short the sleep the Orc is taking, 

ere the morrow's morn is breaking, 

They shall have a rude awakening, 

roused by Cormyr men. 

Mothers cease your weeping, 

calm may be your sleeping,  

you and yours in safety now 

the Cormyr men are keeping, 

ere the sun is high in heaven 

they you fear by panic riven  

shall like frightened sheep be driven, 

far by Cormyr men. 

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Character name: Rhys Dai Gawain


Age and Birthday: 25. 27th day of Leaf fall.


Birth home / home of origin: Gray Oaks


Religion, if applicable: Meilliki


1. What does your character fear? Being separated from nature. Social interaction. Being left alone in Suzail. Women.


2. What does your character love? Exploring new places. Baby sheep. Delicious, melt in your mouth baby sheep. The Iron Chef. Social interaction. Being left alone in Suzail. Women. Dragons, especially Chromatics he can talk with.


3. What does your character hate? Nothing has been worthy of hate or contempt as yet, but he has a healthy dose of disdain for those who do not respect privacy.


4. What currently, motivates your character? His re-integration to society.


5. Do you consider your character to be pious? Yes, but solely within himself, it is certainly not projected onto anyone else, even those of the same faith.


6. What does your character consider the meaning of life? Stand up for what you believe in, especially your friends.


7. Does your character have any quirks that set them apart from the crowd? Dai is inept socially. Awkward and anxious, at the best of times and like a rabbit caught in headlights at the worst. But he's confronting it every day.


8. What are your character's flaws? He has the wisdom to help others but not himself.


9. What are your character's strengths? Loyalty to friends, the ability to look at every situation on its own merit.
Being able to turn into a Dai-a-bear helps, too.


10. Why does your character stay in Cormyr? He's Cormyr born and raised. Why would anyone want to leave?!

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A Recording of Events as Told by Allec the Bard:


Loria's Tale

Chapter One: In Which Thunder Lizards are Entertained

Upon singing a song in greatgaunt
That Militia marching sound,
A woman clad in black to flaunt
Her raven locks with hand abound.


With name of Loria, strong and bold,
And brolly spinning like a wheel
To flirt with men for items sold
and stoic heart to brazen steal.

A trek with five was set to plan
The Marsh its destination
To record this jaunt? This humble man
For cause of future jubilation.

First thing that we did was take a ramble
North of Greatgaunt through my wood
Passed my cave and left the bramble
Idly chatting, banter flowing, learning all I could.

Trolls ahead were fast dispatched
Our blades all swung at once
Her axe stood out unmatched
By her devastating radius



//Will update as I have time.

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Etymology of a Druid:

Rhys - Old Welsh name that means “enthusiasm”. Reese and Reece are the anglicized versions of this name. The name is also said to mean ‘dragon’ from Old Welsh “Rīs” – a passionate, fiery warrior.

Dai - Derived from the old Celtic word dei meaning "to shine". More recently in Welsh used as a nick name to signify "beloved" or "friend".

Gawain - Meaning "uncertain", from the Latin form Walganus. This was the name of a nephew of King Arthur and one of the Knights of the Round Table in Arthurian legend. He can be identified with the earlier Welsh hero Gwalchmei.

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Dai's new portrait, courtesy Animayhem!

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Home

The walk to Gray Oaks was, in most respects, just like any other: Blue skies, fluffed clouds and bird song on the air. In the mind of the Bramble Druid it was the longest, most arduous pilgrimage a man could make. Crossing the Star Water over Calanter's Bridge, the marker of north and south, was almost pleasant as blackbirds marked territories with their affluent calls. The river was ripe and pregnant with the Storm Horn foothills snowmelt and he took pause to lean and watch the flow south east, absorbing the richly pleasant cycle of life Cormyr held that so few took time to glimpse at.

It had been four, maybe four and a half long years since he last made this journey. A half day caravan trip made on three day leave pass to help Da repair and move archery targets at the store. Weed the garden with Ma. Dinner. A fire. Tall tales of training and Militia life, a not so tall tale about hearing Silverstring play and the flat truth of promotion from a mere wall guard to scout. It had been a good, if too short a trip. Ma's laughter... Da's silent, mostly hidden pride. It was a good trip to part on, especially considering the circumstance and ill tide of his death. 

"Gawain, Rhys, Gray Oaks: Gave his life for Cormyr - Kingswood - 13 Mirtuil 1376." The line in the record books was a simple one. Just another name claimed by Orc in Cormyr's long history. But to a mother and father? Such a line could only be devastating. Da would be proud on the outside, of course. Giving his only son for the realm was the greatest gift he could give. On the inside, though? And Ma? Giving the life of her son for the betterment of the realm was simply not a price she'd ever be willing to pay.

Coming to his senses he looked up at the sun and wondered just how much time had he spent reflecting on the bridge. He patted the hand rail looked north and carried on.

Open roads slowly became a mass of trees as his left turn north west off Calanter's Way was rife with foreboding and the urge to turn back. But no. It was the right thing, and in a few short miles he'd be able to reassure them of his well being. Light dappled through leaves and just outside of town a doe's fast turning head caught his attention. A nod and thought of calm and safety projected her way lowered cause for alarm and the doe returned to grazing as the Bramble Druid pressed home the last half mile. Pursed lips showed his doubt as he came across new homesteads built during his absence. Changed and different but still the same was the pathway that lead him to the east side of town, passing faces new and familiar with a withdrawn and quiet step until he reached the family archery store: The Essel Jackdaw.

Just as he had left it.

He stood there looking at the black crow sign for what seemed hours thinking of when he first picked up bow and by unusual circumstance was banned forever more from holding one. In truth he spent maybe half a minute lost in thought before taking long breath and stepping inside. He scanned the store front from left to right. Nothing had changed. And there he was, stringing training bows. Hearing door open his father, in same style finished what he was doing with patience and care, speaking before turning round to welcome his customer. His face had weathered, hair receded from top and salt and peppered on the sides. Not a beaten man, but one tested by time. By loss.

"Welcome to the Jackdaw, what can I..." his voice faltered as eyes met. He took a breath and in his usual slow, deliberate voice asked his son "Is you a ghost, then, Rhys?"

"Thought as much until about a month back, isn't it, Da. Lost your 'air, then."

The older man nodded as he rubbed his head. Eyes regarded the younger man's frame, noting the changes of time and experience.

"Mmm. You filled out." after a too long familial pause he nodded backward. "Ma's out back. Best let 'er know, then."

There was no sentimentality, just a small, fleeting smile that carried as much weight in emotion as Dai had seen from his father throughout his youth. They walked through back and out to the range and as they breached sunlight there she was, kneeling at the flower beds, tending a clutch of yellow roses. 

"Love." Da said with his usual calmness. She didn't look up as a small dandelion was pulled and placed in a small wicker basket. Instead she arched back, sighed and pulled another.

"What is it, Rhys, love? I 'as to get lunch on soon, so if you are going for a pint make sure it's just the one."

"Love." he said with a little more feeling as he placed a hand on Dai's shoulder. Another first. She sighed in return and both men could feel her eyes roll even though she faced away. Dai nodded to his father and edged his way closer, extending a hand to one of the roses behind her, causing it to bloom at his whim. A small thing not left unnoticed by his father.

"Alright. Two pints, but any more than that and you'll sleep through the afternoon and be up all night." she still didn't turn.

"No... Love." His insistence was clear and she slowly turned to see a distinctly familiar face that made her fall to seated position in the flower bed.

"Ma." Age had yet to wither her aside from the now further accentuated lines that accompanied her light brown eyes. Almost as he had remembered. She reached out, fearing only a ghost tormenting her heart but met instead the warmth of flesh and blood. She had no words, but instead leapt for tight embrace which they held to ransom for speech that needn't ever arrive.

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((I made a mistake to my detriment with the Green Dragon form. Apologies, still learning to use it in battle.))

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Whispers on the Wind

Third shift of the day brings forth the Dragon. Sleek green scales explode across his skin as the huge form engulfs his frame like a supernova swallowing planets. His balance is right, his urge to vomit acid quelled and he stands rampant with wings spread wide. He examines his claws and flexes the augmented musculature. A slow nod of satisfaction is all he gives as the whispers interrupt his train of thought.

We are old. We are temeritous. We are -Unreasonable-.

He squints and shakes off the words about his mind and works his wings slowly until they are unfurled completely, then drawn in tight and back again.

Blackmail is always an option.

Ignoring the suggestion he stands then crouches, stands again and works his tail left and right, up and down like a ribbon rudder.

Take what you want, when you want by right of being. Hoard.

The unease causes him to shift back in a cacophony of pain as his muscles shrink and bones scream their way back to reality. As the last vestiges of the Dragon disappear the whisper fades with one last word.

Tiolith

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Fallout of a hundred days

One hundred days as a bear. I lost count of the days after a tenday for I was far from being in complete control of my mind. The primal parts of my brain grew, took over and the intellectual side slowly receded. I remember being advised to not spend more than a day or so at a time in any one form. It's not to keep me from becoming too powerful as one animal... it was to stop me from losing myself and I nearly did.


I forgot more than I realised I knew. The surface problems were immediate: How do my fingers work? What is an opposable thumb again? How should I use them both to tie laces or buckle a belt? But then I suffered much deeper lying problems. How did my Granddad laugh? Not what made him laugh because that shared sense of humour is deep set, but the actual sounds he made. What colour eyes does my Mum have? What did Dad say over and over that was so important? These are the little things that make me unique, the memories that shape my future as much as my past because of the impact they had.


And then there was the big three:

1/ I forgot what got me in this mess in the first place. I am certain I was cursed, but I don't know why or who by. Given the events I have learned of since my return I could invent scenarios. Did Helga do it? Did she pay someone else to? Was it Nyssa? Was it Darius? Could have been the syndicate in Valkur's Roar? Given my absence lead to a union, options one, two and three are possible, if unlikely. Is Darius a/ smart enough and b/ threatened enough to even think of it? Why would anyone of the Roar even want me out of the way? The only option is the lizardfolk, but that was for the benefit of the town.

2/ How do I shift back? I know it took me three nights of determination without eating or drinking to shift back but I don't know if it was me or something else. Was the curse lifted? Did the cursee die? Was it set to last long enough to keep me out of the way? I couldn't being to entertain an answer.

3/ Do I want to shift back? I remember a certain bliss in forgetfulness and for a time I wanted to stay like I was, but after a while I knew it wasn't right. 


But back I came and hard questions were sure to follow. The initial shock of losing Nyssa to Helga was a shock, but it made a lot of sense, so I was able to reconcile my own needs and desire with haste. This may be to my detriment as Nersh has pointed out, for it gives Nyssa nothing to fight against. EnNersha. Therein I have been graced by Tymora to meet her. With Jass, Gid and Nersh I have been able to reclaim much of the memories I lost. The price will be small and a good token of friendship.

Eva has been a rock. Not giving me an easy road, but making me work to reclaim my grasp upon humanity. What is more her candour in situations has been commendable.

I admit surprise at my reaction to Nyssa upon our meeting. I took it on the chin, quite literally (literaturally?) but upon second meet I stood my ground. In spite of her outgoing stance and my acceptance of the situation I shall not stand to see her dictate my future. We shall arrange terms to the satisfaction of both parties or neither.

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Dai-chotomy

(Journal entry. No date.)

In an odd turn of fates the future and past greeted me on the same day.

On my first return to Greatgaunt in the longest time I greeted tree. Gave her a pat and sent her some kind words. She is filling out nicely; Greatgaunt might be quieting down. There was finger wiggler there - fair hair and nice staff. I like blue. Said hello and the finger wiggler said hello back. I started carving a bear, but the olliphant felt proper, so I got some stone out. The finger wiggler came over and sat down and we spoke for some time. She was nice, we share a few interests - zooking, visions, flying, Dragons, the elements and a good fight. I do hope to see her again so we can go fight giants. In time, if we come to be friends, I'll entertain the idea of acquiescing to allow her ride Tiolith. Lypilla. I shall not forget the name. 

The odd thing about the day was as we were talking three people came along and they were all beset by black. Mystogan is behaving. I think. Allyson has not forgotten a single thing and will keep me to my word. The other fellow I haven't seen before. The fashion trend died when a food loving man met us. Karkeek is his name. He did not wear black. That time of day had passed. We shall meet again and see what happens. Good food and an odd way, but nice and natural. Nothing is forced.

Lypilla left to attend her meandering. Maybe we should go on a vision quest together to find olliphants...

Which reminds me. Nyssa came to town.

The Red has claimed more of the woman I once loved and that woman is no more. It is a shame, but life finds a way, it will even out. Still spiteful, mean spirited and childish with her means of attention. Still looking for ways to belittle me while making herself feel better. In some ways it is good to see. A reminder of what once was and is now coming to be. Vanity has given way to vainglory, but with success it can and does happen. I hope Helga is happy and that one day she gets to enjoy a glimmer of the Nyssa that used to be. I pity her not for the new woman who has grown but for the loss. All is as it will be.

Have I grown up? I used to fear disappearing into the woods, maybe even merging with a tree never to be seen again. Now? I see the ebb and flow of life. I feel the currents pass through me and know there is nothing to fight there. Be me, help the land and the people co-exist, teach the young about the old ways. Try and be a good son. Be the best Tiolith.

Kahkeek and Lypilla. Interesting. I think I'll stop by my friends in two days. They should be meeting.