Davian Guissard

appearance
Davian guards the secret of his undeath carefully, as exposure would most certainly cast him back to the bottom of the heap. Civilized society does not smile fondly upon those who practice witchcraft or made a pact with the beyond — and while Davian never regrets his decision, he won't permit it to be his undoing. As a wight, he looks very similar to as he did in life. His skin is a light brown though after his demise, his complexion has become palor rather than ruddy. He stands nearly six feet tall, five foot eleven to be precise, with a sturdy build and broad shoulders. Training as a hunter has given him a toned and dexterous physique but with very little actual strength. His hair, always naturally thin, is a deep black and cropped in a shaggy cut that reaches the nape of his neck. Perhaps the most obvious sign of something being amiss are his eyes: in life, they were a shade of amber, though after death had taken on a haunting yellow glow, most apparent in the dark where they are reflective like a cat's. His face is weary beyond his actual years; while not physically aging, Davian always has a tired look about him, with sallow cheeks and thin lips and wrinkles already forming around the corner of his lips.

One notices immediately Davian's style of dress. No matter the weather, his body is almost always completely covered. Only inside will he remove his signature broad-brimmed hat and torn shawl that covers his shoulders and neck. The rest of his apparel is typically dark and his exposed skin is often tucked beneath his shawl or bandaged. In truth, Davian's skin no longer recovers so well from injury. He doesn't bleed and the gaping wounds, while not a physical detriment to him, heal at an exaggerated rate. As such if one inspects him carefully, they'll find stitches holding together old wounds that are still healing, and often he'll bandage his arms and hands to protect them from sunlight though also to hide his bloodless injuries.

personality
intp / 5w4 spsx / slytherin / choleric-melancholy / death
+ innovative, well-spoken, curious, diligent, observant, analytical, objective, patient
- withdrawn, insensitive, rebellious, self-focused, ingenuous, passive, vengeful, independent

It would be impossible to describe Davian without beginning with how withdrawn he is. He prefers being a wallflower and not attracting any attention, and to the average person he comes across as quiet and rather unnerving. His sense of observation is not at all tempered by a sense of charisma; he speaks in a monotone voice and rarely is his affect not flat and deadpan. In truth there are very little things that lift or lower Davian from baseline. The day to day of things have become unimportant to him and he has become so accustomed to his own loneliness that it seems unnatural to feel any other way. The jolt from living to undead was something that would have troubled him if he'd still had a heart to feel it with, but of course lacking that, Davian has bottled up whatever feelings he has left and become utterly focused on his aims. While not usually unkind (though he certainly has a dry sense of humor), Davian's interactions are typically blunt and to the point. It would not be unusual for someone to find him abrasive and it's immediately clear that he is a private person with no desire to let anyone beyond his boundaries. Perhaps less obvious is that sense of ambition. Davian's goals are unconventional and have swung from becoming a successful hunter to now discovering and dismantling the very organization he once worshipped. Such intentions are blasphemy and it only makes him withdraw deeper inside of himself, unable to share his traitorous thoughts with the very hornet's nest he's part of. Thus to others he appears dispassionate and directionless. Being a hunter and slaying monsters does not excite him — so what possibly could? The demon inside of him is the only one privy to Davian's intense focus on continuing his father's legacy and unraveling the mystery of his demise. There is a part of him, however, that still craves that connects with others. Davian enjoys asking probing questions of people, unlocking their wants and their motivations to better understand how they tick. This information is filed away inside of him to better achieve what he needs to achieve, the basis of his charisma that fuels his demonic power. Davian is utterly neutral, but self-serving: he protects his companions when the situation calls for it, but if it would better him to turn the other way, he wouldn't hesitate to let anyone fall. Or kill them, if they're standing in his way.

drives
- Discover the mystery of Rhadravin's destruction
- Slay the beast that killed his father
- Kill Lieutenant General Rosenrant and anyone else involved

fears
- Losing the favor of Myorvak
- Being discovered as a wight
- Burning to death

pre-birth
The fortress of Rhadravin [Dragon's Maw] once stood a three day's travel from Romsvekdra, further west on the mountain range and nestled within its foothills where the land was more arable. For years the two were considered sister cities: the crop and the stone, intimate trade partners despite the devastating wasteland of storms between them. Rhadravin was recognizable by the tall metal triangles that arched from its outer wall, capable of being pulled down and inward to protect the breiye from the frequent snow and hail. Since its founding, life in Rhadravin had never been pleasant. Its inhabitants grew to be primarily impoverished farming families and hunters, who were the only ones standing between the heart of the city and the massive beasts of the mountain.

Deployment to Rhadravin was no celebration for a hunter. Reinald Guissard, who was born and raised in Royara (and let no man forget it), received his re-assignment to Rhadravin two years after his graduation into being a hunter. Recent dracon attacks had left the city's defenses crippled and a fresh surge of hunters were deployed to the cold expanse of the mountains. Reinald was a charismatic man, scarcely serious, and dripping with confidence: the makings of a bold young hunter who embraced his new home by making ice puns and stuffing snow down his comrades' coats. At twenty-three, he had grown into himself. He had deep black hair and green eyes, a thin beard, and a large frame deserving of the greatsword he hauled. A notorious flirt, Reinald had relations among his comrades, though his eyes still looked elsewhere. It was not long into his station that he and a local farmgirl, Claudine, met. Claudine was coy and Reinald was eager, and while nothing was committed between them, it was not exactly a surprise when their coupling resulted in a baby bump. The pregnancy united them and threw their relationship into motion and the couple were wed in a small, sudden ceremony during the winter in Rhadravin. For Reinald, the baby was a happy surprise to which he was ready to dedicate himself; for Claudine, it was a fate that she now had to accept and endure. As the pregnancy continued, it became more and more apparent that motherhood didn't become young Claudine. She was often ill and bedridden, and with her new husband occupied by work and time beyond the walls, she grew more bitter and more lonely.

Then, suddenly, in the midst of the second trimester, the baby was lost. Conditions in Rhadravin were unkind, particularly to mothers; that spring in particular was wet, flooding the breiye and spreading waterborne disease. That still didn't stop gossip from spreading that Claudine had purposefully miscarried the baby. Claudine fiercely denied it and Reinald swore that he believed her. Even if he didn't, the alternative was far more terrible: his marriage a sham and his wife secretly conspiring against their unborn child. Reinald sat Claudine down and presented a solution: one of his comrades, Megha Rosenrant, was pregnant and didn't want to keep the child. They could adopt the baby, Claudine would not have to suffer through another pregnancy, and they continue on their lives as normal. Pressured into the decision of motherhood, Claudine relented, and five months later a baby boy was placed in her arms. When she first laid sight on him, she realized why Reinald was so enthused about the possibility of adoption. The child was swarthy-skinned and dark-haired like her husband, just with brown eyes instead of green. Reinald skirted the question and claimed Megha didn't exactly know who was the father. Claudine couldn't bring herself to name the baby and so Reinald did: Davian Denisot Ryton Guissard, a noble name for a child destined to live as rich and troubled a life as that of three men.

childhood & adolescence

Davian grew up in Rhadravin in his grandparents' home among the other local children. In a way his childhood was idyllic, though looking back, it was obvious he didn't fit in as well as he'd thought. There was a sharp divide between the community of hunters and the community of farmers in Rhadravin; while of course the two existed symbiotically, the older farming families were often disgruntled with the military not doing enough for their community, and the hunters lofted themselves over the locals and didn't feel they were given enough appreciation. Very few hunters settled permanently in Rhadravin, which made Davian somewhat of an anomaly. The small community bred rumors that were impossible to shield him from. The other children, parroting whispers from their parents, were the first to inform him of his parentage — that he'd arrived in a box, no one else wanted him. While it was never a secret he was adopted, Davian embraced the label of a hunter's child and for as long as he could remember idolized his father more than anyone else. His earliest memories were of running barefoot through the breiyre, pretending sticks were swords and chickens were monsters.

His parents' marriage, however, was often hot and cold. His mother lost two more children in miscarriages before Davian was eight. For every memory of them as a family, his father wrapping his large arms around his mother's waist, all of them roasting chestnuts together, there was another of shouting matches gone on too long, doors slamming, evenings spent in tense silence. Davian felt as though he had to be the model child to hold everything together: he was the start of all of this, the first reason his parents could have to ever be unhappy. Not being able to have another child, a biological child, seemed to be a root of many of their fights and Davian's subconscious was convinced that if he could be enough for them to not want anyone else, things could be okay. Sometimes they weren't, but sometimes they were, which gave Davian enough hope to keep trying. From an early age, he smothered his feelings deep within himself, never wanting to take up room.

As the son of a hunter, Davian also moved around a lot. His father went on commissions frequently when he was a toddler, but when he was six, Reinald was re-stationed in Romsvekdra. The family uprooted from Rhadravin and moved north to the frigid city in the first of a series of moves throughout Davian's childhood. His education was a mixture of formal and homeschooling, and while it wasn't lacking, Davian had very few friends growing up. He was naturally a child that struggled to open up to others, and as soon as he made friends, it seemed that they were always off to a new location. The first time Davian threw a crying fit about it, but no amount of tears stopped the inevitability of moving again. Gradually he came to learn that there was no point in getting attached to anywhere or anything. There was some pride in being the son of a hunter and Davian enjoyed the attention he got from regaling others about the monsters his father had slew — but ultimately it was ostracizing in a way he didn't know how to articulate. He didn't know where his home was. Their possessions often stayed in boxes, unpacked. Each new place had a new culture and dialect, and he was a perpetual stranger. As much as he missed his father when he was deployed, it became the only thing he had to cling to: he was a hunter, it was in his blood, and someday he'd become one and find where he belonged.

There was thus never a question in his mind that he'd join the academy as soon as he became of age. Davian didn't know what he was good at, but surely the commission would find it. He'd always had a budding interest in magic: creating fire from nothing and conjuring illusions. Throughout his adolescence, Davian was utterly convinced his life would truly start then. He would find himself, find his home, find his purpose.

the fall of rhadravin

Looking back now, he could smell the fall of Rhadravin coming like blood in the water. Davian was fifteen and at the age where he was becoming more aware of the patterns of dissent in his home. His parents had their ups and downs for as long as he could remember, but nowadays things were always down. When his father returned home, he was irritable and no longer had the patience to tell Davian what great monster he'd felled this time. His discontent bled into every single of one his stories. Instead of painting the commission as a glorious shelter of heroes, they were now a corrupt body that abused him, sending him here and there, never telling him anything more than he absolutely needed to know. He bled for them, sweated for them, slaved for them — and for what? No glory beyond their own titles and more weaponry that he didn't even need. To be fair, Davian didn't actually know what his father wanted. To him, the triumph of killing monsters and the incredible magic items his father gained from them seemed like reward enough. But this was his idol, the man who always put stars in his eyes. If Reinald's patience was growing thin with the hunter's commission, then surely there had to be a good reason for it.

~ when emma tells me more

in the commission

Joining the hunter's commission was a bundle of mixed emotions. It was a bittersweet moment: the day that he'd always wanted, not the way he'd imagined it. The place he'd imagined welcoming him with open arms was less that, and more so a mixed bag of eighteen-year-olds, some terrified, some aggressive, and some glory-hounds. Beyond that, he was still just a face in the crowd. If anyone cared about his parentage, it didn't afford him any extra privileges. He scarcely brought it up; there was no point in bragging about a man now deceased. It also turned out that many of the first year students were leagues more capable than him. While Davian had been imagining he'd unlock magical talents in the academy, most others had already learned how to cast cantrips or at least begun experimenting with magic on their own. There were then of course others who were adept with a blade or a bow — both of which Davian couldn't swing any better than a stick. Where he expected to find home, he again felt inadequate, with reminders of his father constantly lingering. However despite it all, Davian never imagined that he wouldn't graduate and become a hunter. He'd dreamed of this his entire life — he needed it, if he was to come anywhere close to uncovering what his father had become tangled within. There was no other option.

His first year was finding his footing, living in the shared dormitory with the other freshmen and taking introductory classes. Even with his awkwardness, he began to bond with other students. Things fell into a rhythm: he had aspirations, friends, a schedule, and for the first time in his life felt like he had stability. Davian enjoyed being part of a group and something greater than himself. Surrounded by nationalism and military pride seeped into him and for that while his anger towards the system was dissipated. Perhaps it wasn't the hunter's commission as a whole, but just one head of the hydra that had strangled his father. These people were his mentors and peers, and Davian genuinely wanted to delude himself into thinking he was happy. Or at least that's how he views it now — that those beginning years were just the result of naïveté.

~ when emma tells me more

At the end of his first year, Davian declared his major as wizardry. Through his courses he was becoming more familiar with basic spells, and while he hadn't yet blossomed, he knew in his heart it was coming. He wasn't better suited for anything else, anyway. He was a pathetic sparring partner, a poor aim, and had dull senses that could definitely not keep up with Sornrar. Still, that sense of hope and optimism permeated him; this was where he was supposed to be, and things would work out. It was no secret that many students did not make it through the program and become a hunter, but Davian had his father's wisdom. Reinald had never cautioned him against joining. He at least had seen promise in him.

However, Davian became to become troubled during the second year. He was clearly in the bottom of his courses and magic didn't come naturally to him. What his classmates seemed to be picking up on readily, the same wouldn't come to him, no matter how many hours he studied. His enthusiasm was shaken and he became more insecure, withdrawn, and pessimistic. Ultimately Davian was afraid. He didn't understand why he wasn't good enough for this, even though his entire heart was in it. As much as he wanted to blame his teachers and the entire organization, he knew it was all him. Whatever potential his father had seen was just blind paternal support. For his entire life he'd reassured himself that his day in the sun was just on the horizon, and now that it was supposed to be here, he still wasn't good enough. It was impossible to comfort himself forever with false words. It was impossible to comfort anyone else either, for that matter. The stress in the middle of second year culminated when Davian received word that Sornrar was grievously injured and in the medical bay. In the beginning Sornrar's spirits had evaporated his worry — it seemed like everything was going to be okay. And then they stopped taking visitors, until eventually one of the nurses told Davian that Sornrar had been discharged from the entire academy and was on their way home. Laughing together in the hospital room was the last time Davian ever thought he'd see them.

Things were worse without a support system. Often times he was tumultuous, angry. In the last trimester, he received an official warning stating he would dismissed from his major if things did not improve.

- Befriended Sornrar
- De-befriended Sornrar
- Flunked out
- Sought out demon

after death

- Remaining years
- Isolated
- Befriending demon
- Graduation

relationships

Reinald Alger Guissard » Biological father, human, deceased at age 42
Even death could not temper Davian's adoration of his father. If anything, it simply cemented Reinald's position as the martyr in Davian's heart, now unchanging as his emotions have frozen in time. Davian doesn't often speak of his father, but when he does it is with clear admiration. A decade has passed since the man's death though Davian won't admit the memory he has of him may not have been who he truly was. Davian's purpose is to avenge Reinald's death in Rhadravin — and perhaps somehow, his father will be proud of him for it.

Claudine Giana Leyman née Tridlass » Adopted mother, human, age 46
Davian has always had a tempestuous relationship with his mother that did not improve after his father died. This was only made worse by him dying, and his mother of course noticing that his personality has shifted entirely. Davian put the blame completely on Reinald's death, him failing out of the hunter's commission, and of course, her distant parenting. The last reason expanded the rift between them but staved off any other questions. He's disgruntled that his mother has remarried and has not continued to mourn his father, and that this marriage is better than the one she had with Reinald.

Garrett Joel Junior Leyman » Step-father, human, age 43
His mother Claudine's new husband with whom Davian doesn't want a relationship. Garrett only knew Davian as the wight he has become and realized that was a bridge he could never cross. Their interactions are curt and polite, though never anything more than that. They rarely see each other and never talk otherwise.

Megha Rosenrant » Biological mother, human, age 48
They've never met, but Davian knows she was his father's superior. She was the subject of his complaints in his later years, and one of the individuals Davian is suspicious of as having been obliged to do away with Reinald. Davian views her as being the face of the commission's corruption: a merciless individual who perpetuates the cogs of the machine.

Sornrar Dear » Former friend and now handler, drow, age 109

Rowan Hart » Hunter teammate, half-elf, age 27
One of Davian's hunter teammates who couldn't be further from himself in terms of personality; Rowan is a happy-go-lucky individual infatuated with his pet cat, and whose playful and cheerful antics often rub Davian the wrong way. While initially Davian had some misgivings about Rowan's capability, his teammate is demonstrating himself to be an adept archer and tracker at least — though Davian is growing more certain that Rowan's optimistic perspective won't ultimately align with his own goals.

Matio Hornblossom » Hunter teammate, earth genasi/elf, age 24

Roma Reddragon » Cook and "best friend", kobold, age 18