__________________QUICK STATSName: Fletcher de Villiers
Aliases: "Fletch"
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Ethnicity: Connlaothian
Height: 5' 9"
Weight: 165 lbs
Occupation: Gunsmith, Engineer, Academic, Sharpshooter
Residence: Uthlyn
Birthplace: Wulfbauer
__________________IN-DEPTH STUFFPhysical DescriptionFletch has the look of a typical Connlaothian, save for the fact that he wasn't blessed with the broad shoulders and muscles of most men. He is a slimmer man, though well-muscled enough from an upbringing that involved mandatory training in swordplay and archery. He has jet black hair that is cut short to the scalp and neatly combed, skin a slightly darker shade than pale, and hazelnut eyes. He keeps himself clean shaven, and even on off-days, only a small hint of fuzz grows on his chin. His nose is pert, and his lips thin. He's a decent looking fellow, but in a very boyish manner. Certainly, he wouldn't win the hearts of any girls looking for a stallion.
He is often seen with a pair of thin spectacles upon his face, though his eyesight is perfectly fine. Indeed, those spectacles are often found on fine craftsmen who work with tiny objects; these particular ones aid him in magnifying the tiny rivets and gears with which he works. His attire is simple, but the material of his clothes are expensive and fine. He often sports a crisp white shirt, dark brown breeches and black riding boots, with a soft green overcoat. Often, his sleeves are rolled back to reveal his taut forearms and his nimble fingers.
PersonalityFletcher is a naturally friendly person; it suits him very well to be able to come off as relaxed and easygoing, especially when nobles contact him for some of his prized pieces. He can sometimes be a bit of a showoff. He is not the strongest or most capable of people in a fight, and he is very well aware of it. He can get a little defensive when people judge him based on his inability to handle himself in a situation that requires physical violence. To compensate, he often flaunts his intelligence and his ability with a gun, and can sometimes overreach in situations where such cockiness is unwarranted. Some people say that the demand for his work has given him almost a superiority complex, though he tries very hard to keep his pride in check, especially since the people paying him are often the ones that run the Nation.
Although he has no qualms about pulling the trigger on a man when the situation calls for it (and he has fired on assailants before) Fletcher still gets a little antsy when there's a distinct possibility for bloodshed. He'll do what he has to do, but he certainly won't like it. All the more dilemma in this time of war, when his particular skills are more and more valuable.
While superstitious is not really the perfect word to describe him, Fletcher does like to subscribe to a certain protocol in his day-to-day affairs. He likes to do things a particular logical way, and likes to make a habit out of mundane things, whether it be sharpening a carving tool a particular way or washing his hands at a particular point in the day.
Lately, as the threat of civil war has loomed heavily over the entire nation, Fletcher has become more and more wary of people approaching him for some of his work. He knows that his name is well-known out there, and is very aware that the wrong kind of person might take an interest in the things he can craft, or the talent that he has with firearms.
Growing up, he was taught how to use a bow and actually showed considerable skill with that ranged weapon. He spent a good portion of his youth hunting with his older brothers and father. Now as an adult, he obviously prefers his guns, but still maintains his love of hunting.
Magic/AbilitiesFletcher is gifted with an innate understanding of engineering, ballistics, mathematics and chemistry, honed by the years he spent in Uthlyn at the college, under the tutelage of some of the finest academic minds in the land. He has a very keen eye for detail and an incredibly steady hand, both useful traits in his line of work. In addition to possessing the detailed and intricate knowledge needed to be one of few able to craft the wheel-lock guns used in Connlaoth, he is constantly striving to push the envelope in terms of scientific and engineering innovation. Some of his finest works are very highly desired by the nobles of Connlaoth, particularly those wishing to present an image of currentness by possessing custom-crafted guns. His finest pieces are among the most reliable and accurate guns in the nation, much more so than the generic products churned out for general military use. Anything with his initials embossed into the stock fetch enormous prices.
A corollary of years spent among and around firearms is that he has developed a very precise skill in operating such weapons. He is able to muzzle load even the simplest of guns with quick proficiency; his record for a generic wheellock rifle, from loading the muzzle to priming the pan and firing, is somewhere below half a minute. His aim is also impeccable, both with pistols and rifles. He is able to hit moving targets at a fair distance, even with the more unreliable guns used by the military. His accuracy with a gun is unparalleled.
Growing up in a minor noble household among larger and rougher brothers, Fletcher was also given training in how to wield a sword, how to shoot a bow, and how to ride a horse. While a competent rider, his melee combat skills leave something to be desired, and his smallish body frame simply exacerbate said deficiency. He rarely carries a blade with him anyway, perhaps only a small dagger for emergency purposes. Instead, he surrounds himself with his guns.
RelationshipsMiles de Villiers - older brother and minor noble, head of the de Villiers household
Samvel de Villiers - second older brother, a knight
Jon de Villiers - third older brother, a knight
Wikus de Villiers - younger brother, clergyman in the Church of Angsar
HistoryOn paper, Fletcher owes his allegiance to the Duke of Wulfbauer, in which his family's ancestral lands sit. He had the typical upbringing of any minor noble's son: taught the ways of the sword and bow, of the arts, languages, history. He excelled in the academic portions of his tutelage but was less than proficient when it came to learning how to be a knight. Two of his older brothers became knights on their own merits, but it was evident from an early age that Fletcher would not join them.
Noticing that young Fletch had a knack for sciences and mathematics, his father was quick to ship the young lad off to Uthlyn for the college there, in order to spare his family the disgrace of having a son who was of no use to their duke's military needs. At the college, Fletcher was quickly taken under the wing of the master gunsmiths, many of whom were either part of the intellectuals who pioneered the emergence of guns in Connlaoth, or who had studied under such masters. The young man was taught alchemy so as to understand the mysteries behind blackpowder, mathematics to understand the physics and geometries of firing a gun, engineering to unlock the secrets of design. He excelled in all of these areas and, under the watchful eyes of his masters, became a gunsmith savant in his own right. His first major design change to the regular wheel-lock rifle added fifty feet to its effective range. His next innovation reduced the weight of a gun by a noticeable amount. Even his artistic talents did not go unnoticed: his intricately carved guns sported very minute details to them. Eventually, even the richest of nobles (and even several Dukes) commissioned him to craft custom guns for them with carved stocks to reflect their personal house insignias. For some years, Fletcher's renown grew among the Connlaoth elite, and he made quite a bit of coin for his work.
The first signs that the brewing unrest of the civil war was reaching even him occurred, several years after the death of the Grand Duke. In the streets of Uthlyn, not a city block away from the high tower of the college, he was the victim of an attempted kidnapping, presumably to make use of his talents for gunsmithing for whatever nefarious purposes these men had. They were well armed, obviously paid by some noble or another. But their black cloaks and leathers could not stop Fletcher from shooting all of them down with the very guns he was about to deliver to a local customer. Since then, random violence in Uthlyn has increased dramatically amidst talk of full-out war, and Fletcher has been careful to carry with him plenty of lead balls, blackpowder, and at least a handful of small wheel-lock pistols. The last thing he wants is a repeat of that night: that his ability to craft a fine gun be used as part of the war effort.
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