Jacob/Galwyn

Galwyn Blackthorn, Paladin of St John, Apostle to the Goblins, Pirate King Emeritus, honourary goblin of the Tribe of the Cross.

Galwyn is finally beginning to develope a personality, or at least a set of likes and dislikes of his own, so I thought he deserved his own page.

Background

Galwyn grew up in a family of wandering minstrels, but decided that he wanted to be a knight-errant rather than just telling stories about them, and that Grantabrugge was the best place to do so. He signed up as a Johnite paladin largely because he wanted a Cause, and St John seemed the worthiest one going. Since then, he's taken up the challenge of preaching the word of St John to a tribe of goblins out in the fens, and doing what he can to make them better people and improve their lives. He has a big beard, a big voice, a big stick, many recorders, few social skills and a blunt approach to doing what he hopes is the right thing.

There were many things Galwyn could have done after he pulled his sword out of the chest of the lady of Envy. He could have knelt in prayer and thanked his God for victory. He could have said his goodbyes to the undead. He could have tried to make sure that the corpse was really dead, and wouldn't be coming back. He could have delivered a victory rant to the skies. But he had been fighting for a very long time, and he hurt, and it was a beautiful day, and a lot of people who he shouldn't have let die were dead, and he missed his friends, and what he actually did was announce "I'm going home" and turn around and walk off in search of his tribe, without so much as a backwards glance, leaving his bloody spear still lying on the grass.

Likes

• His tribe of goblins. They started off partly as a joke, partly as an experiment and partly as an attempt to Spread The Word of St John, but they've become his friends. He hopes to convince the rest of the world not to be prejudiced against them just because they're goblins.
• His quarterstaff. The only time the world really makes sense is when he is savagely beating someone whom he feels deserves it. The rest of the time, everything is complicated, but when he is hitting things with his stick he knows what is what. Even when he's not expecting violence, he finds having it around reassuring - a sword just isn't the same.
• Singing, dancing and music - Galwyn is a bard; not perhaps a very good one but an enthusiastic one. Anyone who is willing to sing, dance or play with Galwyn is likely to get on his good side.
• Fae: Likes may be slightly the wrong word here - Galwyn is fascinated by the Fae, even though he doesn't particularly like lots of them.

Dislikes

• Humans, elves, and kender. They're prejudiced against his goblins, they're hostile and distrusful to him, and with a few honourable exceptions he doesn't feel safe or at home around them.
• Duelling and the like. If you want to fight, fight; if you don't, don't. Don't mess about. Galwyn finds a fight to the death/incapacitation is actually soothing; duelling makes the world more complicated and raises the chance that yet another person will say "No, you're doing it Wrong!". He's not keen on formalised codes of honour for similar reasons.
• Kobolds. Galwyn tries his best to extend to kobolds the same open-mindedness he'd like other people to extend to his goblins, but he finds it hard - he's seen too many of his goblin friends hurt or killed in kobold raids. Goblins are childlike (and Galwyn doesn't mean that in a good sense, children are usually vicious little bastards unless they're handled carefully) but kobolds seem much more organised and aware of what they are doing, and more systematically vicious. Some day, there may be an Apostle to the Kobolds, Galwyn hopes, but it sure won't be him, and he suspects they'll have a much harder job of it than he did.
• Oni, taint-beasts and arcanophages. Lots of his friends have died of them, he's worked his fingers to the bone fighting them and they're an ongoing threat to his tribe. And having to kill something that looks like a friend of yours you've just watched die is especially unpleasant. Galwyn sees no point in showing mercy to taint-beasts - they're not people, they just steal their bodies.
• Swords. Galwyn often carries a bastard sword, and will use it if the need arises, but it's not soothing in the way that beating someone who deserves it savagely with a quarterstaff - or even carrying a quarterstaff around with you and leaning on it - is.
• Gods and religions. Of the thirteen Gods, about seven or eight seem actively mad, bad or dangerous, and most of the others seem pointless or obsessive. Even St John disappointed Galwyn when they met - Galwyn asked him for advise, was very grateful to be given some, and was then told by St John to go against it in the next ten minutes. Galwyn's plan is to get on with doing what he hopes is the right thing, continue asking St John for power to assist in doing this, keep his head down and hope this satisfies St John.
• Bad goblins. Galwyn has met a great many goblins, and while some are his friends, he has no illusions that many are not nice people at all. He's helped his tribe hold off several of their tribal enemies. He'll generally offer goblins a chance to repent and join his "gang", but if they don't take it he'll happily slaughter them.

(You may notice that the "dislikes" list is considerable larger than the "likes". Galwyn is not a happy man, except when he's with his tribe, and circumstance seem to be conspiring to keep making him angrier.)

Homemade Meme:

There are various "memes" knocking about the wiki. I thought I would invent my own, that asked the questions I wanted to answer about Galwyn. I would be interested to see other PCs answers. I'm planning to put answers here when I get around to it.

• How do you look different to your player?

Taller, more heavily built, and at the moment probably even more unkempt.

• What are your hobbies or entertainments?

Music, dancing, singing. I like listening to stories. Sometimes I play field games with the goblins - I'm trying to teach them jugger.

• How do you support yourself?''

When I'm in the city, I usually play for my supper. When I'm with the tribe, they share their food with me. Goblin cuisine is... an aquired taste, but I'm coming to quite like it.

• What is your home like?

I have rooms I rent in the city, although I don't go there much at the moment, and a sort of a hut near the centre of the tribe's encampment, where I sleep most nights. It's mostly porch - there's a small private bit at the back with actual walls (if you can call "tree-trunks leaned together" walls, it's sort of like a teepee) and a a firepit and some blankets and stuff, and then a large covered bit where I spend most of my time, so people who want to talk to me can gather round and I can keep an eye on things.

• What are your most cherished possessions?

My quarterstaff and my squeezebox are both very comforting to have around. Any decent quarterstaff and any decent squeezebox would probably do just as well, though. My recorders are a matched set I got from my parents when I left the caravan, and have sentimental value, but they're not so good for... lurking behind. They don't make me feel safe.

• What are you proudest of?

Bringing out good in some of the goblins. If Sithic can become a priest of St John, I'll be very proud indeed. Helping them deal with the Arcanophage plague is something I'm proud of too - there are a fair few of them who wouldn't be walking around if it weren't for me, and I feel proud when I see them.

• What are you most ashamed of or feel most guilty about?''

I seem to have pissed just about everyone in the Wessex Arms off in one way or another.

• Under what circumstances is it justifiable to resort to violence?

When it seems like the right thing to do. That's a crap answer, but it's the best one there is. You *can't* codify right and wrong - a book the size of a barn wouldn't have room for enough clauses and subclauses and "excepts". There's an entire genre of story dedicated to the deeds of ancient knights, many of whom came to bad ends because they got caught between two clauses of their code of honou:r "protect the innocent" and "keep your word" or "honour your lady" and "obey your lord" become mutually incompossible, and they die of an overdose of narrative necessity. The only approach to ethics that works is to wing it. I try to avoid violence whenever possible, and to avoid letting people bleed to death when violence has been necessary.

Oh, "It's a taint beast" means violence is necessary, pretty much ipse facto. Preferably keep it alive until its told you where to find more taint beasts, though.

1. Who are you?

Galwyn Blackthorn, pleased to meet you. If you mean "what are you", I'm a thug in the cause of righteousness, basically. I'm also a decent dancer, a tolerable musician, an awful but enthusiastic singer, and St John's Apostle to the Goblins. Oh, and a pirate king emeritus.

2. Do you have any brothers or sisters?

Yes, several, all still travelling the fens performing with my parents - and with some nephews and nieces, by now. We write, occasionally, but we're not terribly close.

3. How old are you?

25

4. What's your height?

6 foot, give or take.

5. Are you a virgin?

...me? Of course I am. The last person who tried to flirt with me was dead a few minutes later, because I screwed up.

6. Who's your mate/spouse?

...You really think someone would marry me? Don't be daft.

7. Do you have any kids?

A whole tribe of them, in effect.

8. What's your favorite food?

Roast swog was... interestingly different.

9. Have you killed anyone?

Yes, lots. Violence is one of the few things I'm good at. I enjoy it too much, though, so I try not to kill unless I don't have a choice, and I've never killed anyone I didn't think deserved it, although I've let plenty of innocents die.

10. Have any secrets?

No, not really - I'm not good enough with people to keep secrets.

11. Do you love anyone?

I don't even like very many people, and there are virtually none who like me, except for my tribe. There are lots of people I'd risk my life for, if that counts. I suppose what I feel for some of my tribe might come close to "love", of a vaguely paternal kind, but I don't really know enough about it to be sure.

12. What is your job?

I have a tribe of goblins I am... in loco parentis, you could say... to. I cure wounds, settle disputes, preach the gospel of St John (in highly simplified form), give advice, fight of kobold raids, teach the children, and generally provide what help and instruction I can.

13. Boy or girl?

Huh? I'm male, straight, single and will remain so, my tribe has numerous children of both genders who I help raise, and I'm not sure whether I count as a "boy" or a "man" - I'm probably too old for the first, and not mature enough for the second.

14. What do you do to relax?

Music, singing, dancing, storytelling, either on my own or with my trive. One of my happiest memories is of the whole tribe of goblins singing "Cuckoo's Nest" at the top of their lungs around a roasting swog.

15. There's a person who's teasing you; what could you do?

If I ever work out a good solution to being teased, I'll let you know.

16. Let's say you have a person who you really care about but she/he doesn't know about your feelings. How do you tell her/him?

I don't - spare myself the humiliation and them the awkwardness.

17. What do you regret most in life?

I didn't manage to kill Count Friedrich. All his victims went unavenged.

18. Do you like your maker?

Who? What? Is that a euphemism for my parents (we get on OK, but we aren't close)? Or St John (He's on the side of the angels. He lets me heal people. I preach his gospel. I doubt he likes me much, but our goals coincide). Or me myself (I play music well. I'm a thug)?

19. What do you fear?

Myself. Violence makes me happy. So far, I've managed to channel myself into good causes; I worry that some day I will go bad.

A list, with thanks to #larp:

1. Your character is being announced at the Royal Ball by the most pompous, enthusiastic and long-winded Master of Ceremonies in recorded history. What do they declaim?

Hello, I'm Galwyn Blackthorn.

2. Give a 6-word backstory and/or history for your character, prior to their entering play - it is needed for the character bio on the back cover of this season's DVD.

Traveling Minstrel, wanted to be Hero.

3. However improbable it may seem, your character just won a boasting competition. What was their winning boast?

I once convinced an entire fleet of pirates to sail to Kernow, refrain from attacking anyone except orphans and sing at every possible opportunity.

4. Your character loses a hand irrevocably, and is given the opportunity to have something grafted on to replace it. What do they pick?

A hook of some kind - something that can be used either to pump bellows or to fight with.

5. What one impossible thing would you most like to have, be, or be able to do, in order to better physrep your character?

I'd like to be a better musician and singer.

6. Your character is asked by their immediate superior which one thing they would choose to save from their dwelling, were it on fire. Sensing that a flippant answer is not called for, how do they instead answer?

Hmm. Galwyn doesn't really have an immediate superior - the person he regards as "the boss" is Evelyn, but there must be a bunch of ranks between "High Priest" and "barely even attends services". But assuming it's Evelyn asking and not some mid-ranking priest Galwyn doesn't know or trust:

Is this my hut, or my lodgings in the city? If it's my hut then a goblin, most likely - there's often one or two asleep in there for one reason or another - no, not that, before you ask, nightmares or I'm worried about their health and don't want to have to wander across the camp in the rain to pump a healing miracle into them, or we were talking late and fell asleep or on one occasion because he got his arm trapped in the wattling. Goblins are very communal and they don't have much sense of privacy. If you mean my lodgings in the city then whatever's most valuable - I don't keep anything of sentimental value there. But I don't often sleep there, so probably the answer is "a goblin". Or my holy amulet, if they can get out themselves - if my hut is on fire it's probably because we're under attack by kobolds, and it would let me protect the children. Not that it would occur to me to do that rather than just hitting things until after it was too late.

7. Your character was abducted by Nightmares on the way out of the Arms, and wakes up in a sack. What do they have in their pockets, and what one further item do they wish they had also picked up from home this morning?

In pockets, nothing, but on his belt there are four recorders of varying sizes and a sword, and around his neck are two amulets of St John. Things he'd wish he had with him would be a knife, for sack-cutting when you can't draw a sword, and possibly one of Tikrit's excellent get-stronger potions for fighting his way out.

8. Your character's life is flashing before their eyes. Describe briefly any two of the following: Leaving their childhood home. Losing their first love. The first time they killed. The first time they lost a comrade. Another occasion on which they nearly died. A time they lowered their standards. A time they abandoned hope. Something that terrified them

• It was a chilly morning in early autumn. The mist lay low on the fens, but through a break in the clouds the sun shone down, making the trees glow as if they were on fire against the clouds. The young man kissed his parents, embraced his brothers and sisters and waved good by to the rest of the troop. Everyone promised to write to one another regularly, (which they would) and told one another how much they'd miss each other (which they wouldn't), and his elder sister insisted on removing a speck of rust from the armour that he'd purchased in the last town so that it shone properly, and then with a cheerful wave and a last glance backwards, he set off towards Grantabrugge, picking his way carefully through the mud and mire. As he walked, he sang to himself: "Oh that I was where I would be, then would I be where I" squelch "blast am not, here am I where I must be go where I would I can not, fah, diddle lally day, fah de liddle do ry aye. Over the moor I go and through the brush and briar, straightway down the road and too my heart's desire - which is that way, I've got to bear more to the right..." and so on. All his life, he'd been hearing and repeating stories about Heroes and Noble Deeds and Fair Princesses and Foul Monsters, but now, with any luck, he'd be able to be, do, marry and slay them himself (as appropriate). In Grantabrugge...

• The spear jabbed into his leg again, almost breaking it, and he knew he was probably going to die here. Biting back the pain, he tried to take down the zombie coming at him from his right, but he couldn't concentrate on it enough to take it down, and then the bastard with the staff was on him again. He'd fought his way here past humans grafted into the bodies of ghouls and ghouls grafted into the bodies of humans, past innocent servants terrorised and murdered by the undead, past more monstrosities than he'd seen in one place in his life, and he took a grim satisfaction that at least he was dying at the hands of someone worth fighting against. But there was no getting away from it, the Walachian paladin of Vivamort was fit and he was tired, and his enemy had his zombie minions to back him up whereas all Galwyn's allies had bottled and run for it, and - Galwyn almost laughed as the spear slammed into his ribs - there was no getting away from the fact that his enemy was more skillful than him. He launched a final, desperate attack, but the tip of the spear caught him above the ear and everything when black for what he knew was the last time.

Something bitter burned in his throat, and he was awake again. He was dimly aware of Rosamund dumping the bottle beside him and yelling at him to follow, and he hauled himself agonisingly to his feet and lumbered after her. The pain in his arm was... his arm was missing, he realised, neatly severed at the elbow. But the paladin was on the far side of the room, pinned against the wall by magic, and even in his battered state dodging zombies was not a problem and he ran after the wizard as fast as he could go.

9. Your character wakes up in a Militia cell with no clear memories of their last few hours. Given time to think it over, why will they conclude they are there?

Until recently, it would almost certainly have been for assaulting someone in defence of one of his goblins. Now, though, they have the protection of the city law, so it's less likely to be that. The gap in my memory is what worries me most - it suggests I may not have been in control of my own actions, so I could have done pretty much anything. I guess the first thing to do is to examine my soul, the second thing is to ask a guard what's going on, and if necessary the third is to ask to be looked at by a mage and an alchemist.

10. Your character was obliged to leave town. As they fled, they left messages with a trusted friend. Most of them dealt with religious and social obligations, and put in place provision for their return (or otherwise) - but they found time for one quick personal note. Who is it to, and roughly what does it say?

Most of Galwyn's closest friends are goblins, and hence probably mostly illiterate (or possibly not, thinking about it, given that he's been trying to teach the younger ones to read and write for nearly two years now and they learn fast, but since they're NPCs lets assume for now that they are). The only humans he's close enough to that he might consider sending a purely social note while fleeing the city are Rosamund and arguably Edwin, and if you're fleeing the city you probably don't send a note to the sherrif and his wife. Galwyn hasn't really made friends, and I don't think there's anyone who he thinks would miss him much in those circumstances, so he'd probably just write some businesslike notes to people like Evelyn and Mandy and then go.

/GalwynsLastPrayer

There were a bunch of phrases/speech patterns/mannerisms that Galwyn used regularly. I'm interested to see if this was actually noticeable - can anyone tell me any recognisable "Galwynisms" they picked up on?

There was definitely a set of body language with your staff before/after fights (or maybe just berserk?) that was unique to Galwyn. It included sort of shaking out joints and holding the staff away from your body fairly vertical. He closes his eyes and sometimes jerks his head when playing the squeezebox, but that might be technical detail of playing rather than exactly larp. He is the only person I've ever heard ever say certain words that sound like folksong lyrics outside singing a folksong (even the sort of 'oh-right!' sound before diving off to do something could have equally well been the breath before the first verse). On the 3ygb it was noticeable that he was repeating some inspirational mantras though it seemed these were usually for his own benefit/to St John rather than to others. The meme above is all phrased in a ay that 'sounds like you/him' as in, I can hear it in galwyn's voice, but I'm not sure which particular words create this and if it is definitely a Galwyn identifier rather than a Jacob one. --Zebbie