Servant
Heroic Spirit Name:Bedwyr Bedrydant (Bedivere of The Perfect Sinews)
Age of Appearance: Twenty-Five
Gender: Male
maybeAlignment: Lawful Good
Class: Rider
Master: Cassiopeia Zacharias
Appearance: Bedwyr is first of a rather tall and slender build, although that is covered by his armour. While his frame is lean, however, that does not mean he is not muscular, and has very well defined muscles. For this reason his fighting style tends towards quick motions and quick descisions over brute strength. He also has long blonde hair, with multiple braids in the back leading into two seperate barettes, and is straight beyond the twin circular hair clips. He also has long fringe bangs that hang down to a length of almost touching the base of the armour around his chest.
He traditionally wears full plate, unadorned with any embossment, instead shining from care. It covers the majority of his body, with notable exceptions around his elbows, to allow greater flexibility and range of motion with his lance, and his inner thighs and knees so he can control his mount without need for reins.
His greaves are specifically designed for riding, and are capable of delicate shifts in his feet in exchange for slightly less protection.
Traditionally he wears a full surcoat over top of his armour, white until his shoulders and the center lines, with a light burgandy inside. It is trimmed in gold, and above his shoulders and down the center part a forest green. Normally it is clasped with a pearl choker, and a cross hangs down from both sides of the clasp.
When unarmoured, and trying to pass more casual he has a charcoal (A dark grey) tunic, made of linen, with a V neck and laces up the V. A small brown leather belt with a gold clasp circles his waist, and his pants are matching material and colour. He is not adverse to wearing other clothes, but this is what he can be clothed in from summoning.
He also has two large ruby earrings.
Finally, despite his height, he has a somewhat effiminate figure, and has long since given up responding to ribbing about it.
Personality:Bedwyr is first of all loyal. Loyal above all to his king, Arturia, and then others in command of him. There is only one exception to this: If the one he serves is in danger, he may disobey an order from them to save them.
Otherwise, however, he is willing to move outside his alignment on orders, as he did listen and follow Arturia completely on her orders, no matter what they were.
Secondly he has not completely lost his free spirit wanderlust nature, and starts to 'itch' if in one place too long, prefering to be riding, or scouting, or serving his liege in some other way. While he was by Arturia's side, he still did what she commanded, and fought along side her. He has never been one for sitting around.
This cannot be understated. He hates sitting around, and also hates spirit form, only taking it if it is absolutely necessary. While it is not because of a large ego, instead he just wants to 'experience' the world, and the wind in his hair as he rides.
Bedwyr is also a large fan of planning on the battlefield, and is a quick thinker of decent plans in a general battlefield. Although this is not close to Eye of The Mind, it is still a military tactics kind of thing. Beforeheand he will just follow orders, but his true skill is knowing what to do in large scale combat instinctively.
He also has an enjoyment of fighting, specifically other riders, testing his own skill.
Next, he is chivalric if it does not conflict with his orders. Bedwyr prefers to match himself against his equals, and in one on one combat. However he does realize that this is not always the case, and will fight otherwise, but enjoys testing his skills in one on one combat the most.
Finally Bedwyr has a penchant for rage if someone close to him is injured, or is about to become injured. After Arturia's death he became a madman, seeking his own death any way possible on the field, and when she was struck by Mordred fought as if possessed. He does posses rage, but tries to keep it beneath a calm demeanor.
History: []First person, however he will not be written first person. I just tend to write Servant history like that []
I was always free. Free, free to wander, free to seek what I wished. I was a wild spirit, untamed and impossible. Seeking adventure everywhere. This did not change when I first became a knight under
her. I sought glory and a position beside the king. And I got it.
A position among the greatest of knights. This was, however, before the round table was established, and the greatest of the greatest were chosen. So I was one of some ninety knights that sat with the king, and held court with
her. Of course I did not know that at that point.
My greatest adventures of my early life were with a fellow knight named Kai, or Sir Kay. I will recant a few of them here, some of the ones that might impress a foolish man as I once was.
The first one of which was a great battle at the banks of Tryfrwyd, a strong river. It was here I met Kay in truth, I had known his name before, but in battle we fought like brothers, side by side. We ended up stranded from the main of combat, back to back against hundreds of enemies.
This was before I had received my lance, or even been called battle-diademed, as I was still a young knight, just having won my spurs. Furious was the fighting, and we held naked blades from what seemed like sunrise to sunset, defeating countless soldiers, and exhausted beyond belief.
But we were alive, and had no serious wounds.
Until we met Garwlwyd. The chieftan himself had come to fight us.
We both stood against him, and the clashing of our weapons rang out across the river and plains, all soldiers stopping to watch this fight of knights.
He was a giant, taller even than Kai on his greatest of days. His sword was monstrous, and I could barely repel the blows from it. Kai, even at his greatest size still was hard pressed.
Until I lost my hand.
My shield failed under repeated strokes, and his sword cut cleanly through my left hand.
So I did the only thing I could. I clutched onto the giant’s hand and forced his hand down with all my weight. I even dropped my sword so I could grip that monster’s arm, praying and hoping to the heavens that Kai could finish the creature.
And he did, my desperation allowing him time to strike off the chieftain’s head, effectively ending the battle.
Not that I knew, for I was too busy lying on the ground almost bleeding to death. Thankfully Kai saw my wounds for how serious they were and took me to Gawain’s side. Gawain, THE KING OF ADVENTURE, had knowledge beyond any physicians, and managed to save my life from such a grievous wound.
But forever after, my left hand was lost at the wrist.
That did not stop me. It was merely a trifle in my life, and eventually I became the pre-eminent warrior in all of Britain, crowned highest of the Diademed battle-lords, and had my lance crafted for me. It was made adorned with the eight crowns of the Roman Empire, awards to soldiers who had done certain tasks, and my own diadem. When wielding the lance uncovered ever after, in the time even the best and fastest of any man could strike once, I could do so nine times.
My skill was not only in martial combat either; it was also in the leading of Armies. To this end, and with my talent at riding considered, Arturia made me Marshal of her cavalry, to lead it to battle where and when she could not, and put the horses of Britain under my command.
After some time I had matured to the point I had to shave regularly, an intruder came to our court at Camelot, demanding the attention of every head with his very presence.
He was Culwch.
He was looking for a wife, a wife that he was told of in a dream. Olwen. And he sought Arturia’s help to find the woman, and plead for our aid. His voice was charismatic, and every knight was moved. Arturia even cut and combed his hair, to welcome him as a brother.
We searched for a year. For any mention of Olwen, me and Kai as well as hundreds of others riding the length and breadth of Britain. We found nothing.
Culwch swore he would bring down scorn upon Arturia’s name for her failure, until she decided to specifically send knights with Culwch to find her.
Kai and I were amongst them, in fact we were the first two called. At that point we were never separate, and he even quipped ‘By the hand of my friend’, a slight jest at my missing left hand. Inseparable, and rowdy, barely obeying the law of the land.
After wandering for months, searching by bare word of mouth and finally came across the court of Ysbaddaden, the giant protector of Olwen, and ravage of North Britain. To enter the treacherous giant’s court we slew nine porters in complete silence, taking care to mask our presences.
And we came before the giant’s throne. The murder’s throne. He killed twenty-three of one of our companion’s brothers. He ravaged the land. Yet, a curse he had on him, to be unkillable until Olwen was a bride.
Upon having two men to prop his eyelids open with forks taller than a man, he seized a poisoned spear from beside him and threw it at Culwch.
In one motion, I caught the spear along its handle, spun, and hurled it back at him, piercing his leg to the enormous throne. He complained, and I laughed.
Twice more we came, and twice more he threw spears, the final one returned by Culwch to strike his eye and pierce his brain. It was then we saw the curse in full effect. He did not die, despite having his own spear standing out from his head. He ripped it out without a care, and still retained the hole from it through his eye and out the back of his head.
Finally he had had enough. He gave us and endless series of impossible tasks, at least what he thought were impossible.
He did not know the knights of Arturia.
I took part in five of the tasks, and was present at the end of them.
Kai and I left immediately after the tasks were given to go slay Wrnach the giant. We had only needed a reason to end the brute’s life, as he held his kingdom in darkness and oppression.
Kai would ply his skill as a sword sharpener, and gain access to the giant’s court, while Goreu and I would rid the court of his soldiers as Wrnach was distracted. It went pretty much as planned, my lance striking for nine when I unveiled it.
The court was soon laid to waste, and Kai gave me the signal to enter, just in case he needed support. I opened both doors with great ceremony, as that was the way I was then, and as I watched Kay feigned to return the giant’s sword to its sheath, and instead struck off his head.
I was not needed for that fight, it was decreed that I need not unveil my lance again that night.
We despoiled the castle, and returned everything of worth to Arturia’s court.
Next Kai and I went with Gwrhyr, who knew all tongues, to free the exalted prisoner Mabon ap Modron from his captivity. The two of us were rather bored as Gwrhyr spoke to varying animals, and they conversed back. He was passing miracles and we were busy duelling across mountaintops, fighting each other underwater, which wasn’t really fair considering that he could hold his breath for nine days and nine nights.
Finally we came across a river that contained two giant fish with large sharp teeth. And they
finally knew where Mabon was. They told us, but Kai and I would never let an opportunity pass.
So we rode the beasts. Now, it’s really hard to explain just how massive these things were, but one of them had fifty spears stuck in its back, and thought little of it other than it itched.
And we rode them. To the castle along a river, where the two of us breached the walls from the back of these monstrous fish, and rescued the exalted prisoner, who had been captured three days after his birth. It was not that simple of course, as we fought for hours, and were partially waylaid upon encountering the storehouses of the castle, but this adventure was more important than wine, even then.
Arturia then released us for a while, and as both Kai and I were free spirits, we decided to face the world’s strongest wind. Because it was there. We climbed Plinlimmon, having brought with us a cart to make the journey down more… entertaining. There the wind was like no other, and any lesser men would have been carried off into the sea, if they ever left the wind’s power.
But there we stood, planted firm, surveying Britain without a care in the world.
Then Kai spotted a great smoke pillar that did not bend in the wind, he had found the great robber Dillus Varvawc, a giant with a beard stronger than any rope.
To get to him we both hopped in the cart, holding on to each other, and set it down the mountain, with the world's greatest wind at our back. It was insane, and impossible that we survived. But we did, and were down the mountain in what seemed like a single instant.
Now this giant was massive, so we waited till he slept, and dug Britain’s largest pit trap to capture him when he awoke. He was still a tight fit into the pit, until Kai grew to match his own giant’s blood, and squeezed him into the pit with a mighty blow so only his head remained above ground.
With wooden tweezers we pulled out each hair of his beard, and then finally I delivered a lance strike to his head, ending the robber’s despoiling of Britain.
Arturia then composed an Englyn about Kai, poking fun at him until he left the quest in a rage. I was greatly saddened by the loss of Kai, although I could not believe he had left over such a minor thing, when he said similar things.
Afterwards I retrieved a cauldron that never ran out of ale for Culwch, and participated in the hunt of a great boar, who’s tusks were needed to make razors, and his bristles for combs. I lead Arturia’s own great hound in that hunt.
Finally we had completed all the impossible tasks before us, and returned to wed Culwch and Olwen. Once the curse was gone, we killed the horrible giant who had made Olwen his ward, removing his like from Britain forever.
Many years came without major event, other than battles against Saxons, and other such things that I will not bother with, until Merlin revealed a great table to Arturia.
The round table.
Her greatest knights were selected to sit around her, as equals. I was chosen as one of them, and I swore undying loyalty to her. No matter what.
In the reflectory before being awarded my silver spurs, I saw my own life and what I had done. I had near abandoned my king, and never looked closely at her. I vowed then, before the altar, that I would never leave her side, becoming her loyal hound.
I had seen myself as free, and a great knight, but truthfully I was little more than the barbarians I opposed, wandering around, and delivering justice as I saw fit. I bitterly regretted all that I had done that had gone against the king’s dream, the king’s hopes.
From that holy seat I began to see the troubles of my king, and changed my life’s goal. She never smiled, was never happy, no matter what was accomplished. I became closer to her than I was ever to Kai, and never left her side. She carried all the weight of the kingdom on her back, every tear on her shoulder, every death was graven in her mind.
Never once was she happy. It seemed regret plagued her actions, and it was always what needed to be done. I would always obey.
When other knights took offense at her actions to save Britain, I was at her side, defending her choices. Defending them with steel if need be which it was occasionally.
While others sought for the grail, I was there at her side, hoping for some fleck of joy to cross her face. That was my grail, to see that happen.
When Lancelot rebelled I was there, fighting him. At Arturia’s side. I crossed my lance and sword against his great sword, and fought him for hours. I never relented; he had committed the ultimate act of betrayal. He had made her less likely to smile, more likely to cry.
When knights betrayed and defected to Mordred’s side I slew them without a second thought. They were even worse than Lancelot. Maleagant himself, once a knight of the round, fell to my lance.
I found myself her closest, and only confidant save Merlin. Yet she still told me things he could nto hear, and I gladly helped shoulder those burdens. Still, she did not smile.
When the final battle came, I was there at her side, fighting at Camlann, killing men who had once feigned loyalty to their Riothamus. They had ruined her, destroyed everything she had done for this country. Hatred filled my veins, and tears filled my eyes as I watched the final battle, and laid to waste men I had known for most of my life.
And I saw Arturia fall, struck down by the very sword that had knighted me, Clarent. That sword of peace came back and delivered a fell wound that would eventually take her life. In return the betraying son received a lance through his chest.
I saw my wounded king, and rushed to her side, utterly destroying anyone who got in my way. I was not Gawain, who had fallen by my side earlier.
But I could take her to Merlin! He could heal her, and still was alive, unlike all the others. I was the last knight, the only survivor of Camlann... that accursed hill.
However it soon became evident that she would not survive the harness of the ride, and so I laid her against a tree in a nearby peaceful grove, untouched by battle.
“Bedwyr…” I heard my name being called by the dying king, looking as young as when I had first seen her.
“Bedwyr…” Again her voice. I dismounted.
“Yes my king?” My voice was touched with tears.
“Throw my sword into the lake.”
I glanced at her, as she offered me the weapon, its pure light fading. I only responded that I could. I served my king.
I rode aimlessly, and came to a small vale I had never seen before, with the most beautiful lake I had ever laid eyes upon. My hands gripped the hilt of my king’s sword. But I could not throw it into the lake, she would die the moment I did.
I rode back to my king. I told her I had thrown the sword into the lake as she wished.
“What did you see, Bedwyr?”
“There was a splash, my king, as your sword sunk into the waters.”
“Bedwyr, throw my sword into the lake.” She said again.
Once again I rode, this time towards Camelot, towards Merlin. But I ended up in the same vale as before. I gripped the hilt of that beautiful blade and almost through it in from my king’s command. But once again I knew she would die as it sunk, and so I returned to Arturia.
The same thing happened, and she commanded me to throw it in the lake once more. This time I but turned around and I was in the vale. The sword was once again in my hands. But I could not serve my king in this.
I would serve her. I would serve her, not some crown, not some office, not some glory.
I would serve her.
And I tossed Excalibur into the lake. By some divine mystery, a watery hand reached up and grabbed the blade from the air, pulling it to the depths. When I came back, she was smiling, speaking of dreaming, and I told her to rest, weeping, saying that if she slept she could return to the same dream.
She was smiling. Happy, in death. Smiling from some beautious dream.
I returned her body to Merlin, who told me she would come to this world again, when the world would accept her back. And that is my wish. To be by her smiling side, carefree and beautiful smiling side, when she returned. To serve her once again.
Battle InfoClass Skills:~ Riding ::
While Bedwyr does not have the ability to ride divine beasts, he still has the ability to ride near anything. Seriously he rode a talking sharkPersonal Skills:~ Protection From Arrows ::
Bedwyr is able to sense the killing intent behind darts and arrows, and in Culwch ac Olwen catches and throws back a dart thrown by a giant. ~ Charisma:
While not the level of Arturia, Bedwyr was the highest Diademed Battle-Lord in all of Britian. As a Marshal he commanded sections of Arturia's army, specifically cavalry, and was often sought out for training in his unique style of riding.~ Military Tactics:
An ability to fight with Anti-Army phantasms, and against them. While Bedwyr does not have an Anti-Army phantasm he is skilled in engaging Armies to the point where Army based phantasms will have less of an effect, or be more easily seen. While he is not a great commander, part of his repute as a Battle-Lord of Britain was his skill in marshalling soldiers~ Eternal Riding Mastery:
Like Lancelot's skill with ingrained ability, Bedwyr, as long as he is mounted, will retain all of his skill under mental alteration. The mental connection between him and what he rides is beyond almost any other.Noble Phantasms:~ True Knight :: The World Is A Stable :: Support (Anti-Personnel) ::
Bedwyr has no noble beast. However the ability to ride is so ingrained in him, that anything rideable he rides will become noble phantasm itself, responding to his thoughts, and far outperforming what it could normally do. These ridable objects are not on the same level as noble beasts, and as such are still destructable. He gains the knowledge of how to operate and modify anything he can ride when he enters the age he is summoned in. If the rideable object has any attached weapon they will not be noble phantasms, instead they will remain normal weaponry. He can convert planes this way, but it is much more intensive, as well as innefficient, because his weapon is a lance.
The actual mechanics vary based on the thing he is riding. Something like a bicycle will obviously be worse than a motorcycle and that worse than a performance vehicle.~ Glaif Chorona:: Nine-Pointed Diademe:: Anti-Personnel ::
From Culwch ac Olwen, describing Bedwyr's lance.
With a stable footing, he can unleash the covering of his nine-crowned lance and with each strike, nine strikes will issue forth from the lance's strikes. This is not like Tsubaime Geishi, which is unavoidable, nor is it like Nine-Lives as a prison. Simply with each action of striking, Bedwyr will have struck nine times. One could compare it to 'impossibly fast' rather than 'dimensional refraction'.
Even if he is not striking with this it drains prana until he reshrouds his lance, and it will return to delivering only one strike with each action. It can be unshrouded for about two minutes before it has to be wrapped back up. Unveiling the lance requires revealing its name.
As a Lancer, this would be more powerful, and instead of acting like nine impossibly fast strikes, it would reach dimensional refraction, and be comparable to Nine-Lives in its 'Prison' of strikes. As of now it is more like he is wielding a nine tipped Lance. The strikes have to be tightly grouped as a rider, as it does not possess the magic required to strike seperate points. It is simply nine strikes in the same time a normal servant could strike once.
His strikes with this, once uncovered, were so fast they were able to 'draw blood from the very air'.
Controller Info
Alias: Aela
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Location/Timezone: PST British Columbia
How'd You Find Us?:Nak.
Roleplay Sample: Yeah, I play Bedwyr somewhere else too, and here is him meeting Merlin shapeshifted as Arturia. Spatharius was changed into crazy lance
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