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Description
Basic Information
Name: Guto'r
Gender: Male
Age: 24 years old
Year of Birth: 752 of the New Age
Height: 13hh
Build: Heavy
Phenotype: Flaxen Liver Chestnut Winter Roan Smoky Fawn
Genotype: ee/aa/RnRnW/ff/nZ/fwsfws/rzrz
Eye Colour: brown
Design Sheet: Festive Fawnlings 2016 Batch 10

Sire: Efrog (NPC, retired Warrior, ALIVE)
Dam: Braith (NPC, Witch, ALIVE)
Bloodline: 100% Blackwood
Magic Type: Black
inborn: Necromancy
learned: Possession

Skill Points

Speed: 0 [Basic Level] (Build Cap: 5 points max)
Stamina: 6 [Basic Level]
Strength: 10 [Medium Level]

Magic: 7 [Basic Level]
Herbs: 0 [Basic Level]

Experience: 0

Breakdown
+4 stamina - base bonus
+9 strength - base bonus
+2 stamina - starter bonus
+1 strength - starter bonus
+7 magic - starter bonus

Herd Information
Herd: Blackwood
Herd Position: Warrior, aspiring Raider
Mate(s): none yet! He is open to any and all does claiming him.
Current Location: Bathing in Stag's Folly

Details
Personality:
protective-
lacking in tact- From bad puns to dirty jokes, he doesn't know when to shut up. Tries to be polite around does, often fails.
danger-seeking- He'll run headlong into a band of Glenmore Guards for the thrill of it, not thinking about the outcome (other than knowing someone is getting hurt, and it won't be him).
merciless- He would hurt another fawn (NEVER a doe, NEVER children, NEVER his own people, but stags who don't back down...) without hesitation, and would let anyone foolish enough to cross him to fall to his antlers. The code of survival runs deep in this one.
wounded- Something happened in this stag's past that he refuses to speak about to others, something that seems to follow him like a ghost. From unsettling dreams to bouts of being unsure and 'freezing'...

Appearance:
Build: Heavy (Suffolk Punch-type), well muscled quarters and neck.
Head: Roman-nosed, longish. Small ears, nicked up with a new notches.
Eyes: Round, slanting downward (towards outer corners). Long eyelashes. Normally genial, but with a flirtatious glint.
Mane: Braided into small braids, except for top lock (at top of poll), which is help in a ponytail or bun. This is grown out much longer than the rest of his mane.
Tail: Has always been a little short, with end hair tied off into a single knot. Was injured in the fight with a boar as a young stag, some of the tip was chomped off. Otherwise normal.
Legs: Thick, like tree trunks. Heavy feathering.
Hair/Skin: Average coat length, mostly straight hair. Has scars all over his body, mostly on shoulders and flanks.
Rack: Reference coming soon! Moose-like and pointy. Lots of points.

Trinkets: Wears bone and wooden ornaments in his braids.
Other: Wears a wolf pelt (his from his Rite of the Mother), has a few more as well as a boar pelt in his den that he loans out to other fawns as needed.

History:
-fawnhood-
Born to a Warrior of great repute and a Witch of good standing, Guto'r grew up with the honesty of the kingdom he lived in apparent to him from a young age. Both of his parents were strong and gritty, and raised their son to be the same way. He split his teachings, between bringing back insects to life and having them crawl in his father's mane to pushing around rotting pine logs. Guto trained and trained, sending himself up to the mountains during the winter after his third year so that his coat would not risk his dear Mother and Father's lives as well as the lives of the herd.

-Rite of the Mother-
He attempted his Rite of the Mother, going after a wild boar of great size and long tusk during his fifth year. The bull had a dish of antler at that time, and figured that with his training he could not fail. His hubris, however, would catch up with him; the boar gored him in his side, giving him a scar on his left shoulder and quite the story to tell. Not being defeated so easily, the bull found himself another creature to pursue; a peppered male wolf who skirted around the herd numerous times, looking for calves to feed on. In his sixth year, antlers sharpened and at the ready, the stag used himself as bait for the beast, digging into his own legs with his antlers to give off the scent of blood. The wolf followed, and the stag lead him into a grove of pine trees thick as walls. The stag turned, then beat the beast bloody (sustaining wounds of his own as well). He returned back to the herd with the beast stained with both his blood and theirs, letting out a bellow of pride. He did the Great Mother proud, and celebration was to be had.

-adulthood-
Guto'r has spent most of his young adult and adult life as a Warrior, training hard and working through the ranks. He hopes to be a Raider someday, so that his love of does could be put to good use. He finds it difficult to make close friends within the herd, his coat color being seen as risky for others to stay around him for long periods of time. Over the years, he has taken pride in his home in the snowy mountains up North and for being of the true "warrior" spirit (which means that he doesn't get too betattached to anyone or anything).

During his younger years as a Warrior, he witnessed something on the Glenmore border that he is unwilling to talk with anyone. Unlike many of his battle stories, he glosses over it. At times, though, during a fight... he'll occasionally 'space out' in remembering, something that he saw long ago... something that terrified him. Bring it up, and you're sure to get a shove in the shoulder and a "Let's not talk about that, alright?".

Description
Basic Information
Name: Guto'r
Gender: Male
Age: 24 years old
Year of Birth: 752 of the New Age
Height: 13hh
Build: Heavy
Phenotype: Flaxen Liver Chestnut Winter Roan Smoky Fawn
Genotype: ee/aa/RnRnW/ff/nZ/fwsfws/rzrz
Eye Colour: brown
Design Sheet: Festive Fawnlings 2016 Batch 10

Sire: Efrog (NPC, retired Warrior, ALIVE)
Dam: Braith (NPC, Witch, ALIVE)
Bloodline: 100% Blackwood
Magic Type: Black
inborn: Necromancy
learned: Possession

Skill Points

Speed: 0 [Basic Level] (Build Cap: 5 points max)
Stamina: 6 [Basic Level]
Strength: 10 [Medium Level]

Magic: 7 [Basic Level]
Herbs: 0 [Basic Level]

Experience: 0

Breakdown
+4 stamina - base bonus
+9 strength - base bonus
+2 stamina - starter bonus
+1 strength - starter bonus
+7 magic - starter bonus

Herd Information
Herd: Blackwood
Herd Position: Warrior, aspiring Raider
Mate(s): none yet! He is open to any and all does claiming him.
Current Location: Bathing in Stag's Folly

Details
Personality:
protective-
lacking in tact- From bad puns to dirty jokes, he doesn't know when to shut up. Tries to be polite around does, often fails.
danger-seeking- He'll run headlong into a band of Glenmore Guards for the thrill of it, not thinking about the outcome (other than knowing someone is getting hurt, and it won't be him).
merciless- He would hurt another fawn (NEVER a doe, NEVER children, NEVER his own people, but stags who don't back down...) without hesitation, and would let anyone foolish enough to cross him to fall to his antlers. The code of survival runs deep in this one.
wounded- Something happened in this stag's past that he refuses to speak about to others, something that seems to follow him like a ghost. From unsettling dreams to bouts of being unsure and 'freezing'...

Appearance:
Build: Heavy (Suffolk Punch-type), well muscled quarters and neck.
Head: Roman-nosed, longish. Small ears, nicked up with a new notches.
Eyes: Round, slanting downward (towards outer corners). Long eyelashes. Normally genial, but with a flirtatious glint.
Mane: Braided into small braids, except for top lock (at top of poll), which is help in a ponytail or bun. This is grown out much longer than the rest of his mane.
Tail: Has always been a little short, with end hair tied off into a single knot. Was injured in the fight with a boar as a young stag, some of the tip was chomped off. Otherwise normal.
Legs: Thick, like tree trunks. Heavy feathering.
Hair/Skin: Average coat length, mostly straight hair. Has scars all over his body, mostly on shoulders and flanks.
Rack: Reference coming soon! Moose-like and pointy. Lots of points.

Trinkets: Wears bone and wooden ornaments in his braids.
Other: Wears a wolf pelt (his from his Rite of the Mother), has a few more as well as a boar pelt in his den that he loans out to other fawns as needed.

History:
-fawnhood-
Born to a Warrior of great repute and a Witch of good standing, Guto'r grew up with the honesty of the kingdom he lived in apparent to him from a young age. Both of his parents were strong and gritty, and raised their son to be the same way. He split his teachings, between bringing back insects to life and having them crawl in his father's mane to pushing around rotting pine logs. Guto trained and trained, sending himself up to the mountains during the winter after his third year so that his coat would not risk his dear Mother and Father's lives as well as the lives of the herd.

-Rite of the Mother-
He attempted his Rite of the Mother, going after a wild boar of great size and long tusk during his fifth year. The bull had a dish of antler at that time, and figured that with his training he could not fail. His hubris, however, would catch up with him; the boar gored him in his side, giving him a scar on his left shoulder and quite the story to tell. Not being defeated so easily, the bull found himself another creature to pursue; a peppered male wolf who skirted around the herd numerous times, looking for calves to feed on. In his sixth year, antlers sharpened and at the ready, the stag used himself as bait for the beast, digging into his own legs with his antlers to give off the scent of blood. The wolf followed, and the stag lead him into a grove of pine trees thick as walls. The stag turned, then beat the beast bloody (sustaining wounds of his own as well). He returned back to the herd with the beast stained with both his blood and theirs, letting out a bellow of pride. He did the Great Mother proud, and celebration was to be had.

-adulthood-
Guto'r has spent most of his young adult and adult life as a Warrior, training hard and working through the ranks. He hopes to be a Raider someday, so that his love of does could be put to good use. He finds it difficult to make close friends within the herd, his coat color being seen as risky for others to stay around him for long periods of time. Over the years, he has taken pride in his home in the snowy mountains up North and for being of the true "warrior" spirit (which means that he doesn't get too betattached to anyone or anything).

During his younger years as a Warrior, he witnessed something on the Glenmore border that he is unwilling to talk with anyone. Unlike many of his battle stories, he glosses over it. At times, though, during a fight... he'll occasionally 'space out' in remembering, something that he saw long ago... something that terrified him. Bring it up, and you're sure to get a shove in the shoulder and a "Let's not talk about that, alright?".