3. Clayton Greyfeather

Clayton Greyfeather


  • LOGIN: Celtic8824
    CHARACTER: Clayton Greyfeather

    Staring out into the Rawlinswood from the Norwick guard tower he’s grown fond of, Clayton takes a deep breath, thinking on the years that have passed him by. He’s had it pretty good at some times, and he’s had it pretty hard at others… but he wouldn’t change any of it.

    Born in Peltarch to a lower middle class family, Clayton was never a stranger to hard work. His Human father was a Crossbow marksman in the Defenders, and his Elven mother worked part time in the kitchen of the Dancing Mermaid Inn. All and all, Clayton had a very loving, simple family.

    When he was 8, Clayton began to show an interest in archery. His father had a small crossbow crafted for him, proud that his son would one day be a marksman as he was. Clay’s performance with the crossbow was horrible. He couldn’t hit the target no matter how hard he tried. When a day was spent with disappointment and frustration, his mother walked out of the house with a shortbow of Elven craft. She explained to Clay that not all people are meant for a crossbow. Some can perform better if they can feel the tension in the bow. He looked up at his father, who had been attempting to teach him marksmanship all day, and his father smiled and nodded his approval. Clay drew an arrow from the small quiver his mother hand sewn for him out of leather, and took a shot at the target with his parent’s guidance and help. The shot hit the inner ring.

    Clay practiced every chance he could. At the age of 14, he was an errand boy at the local inn. He’d carry crates of wine upstairs, carry guests’ belongings to their rooms, tend to the horses and so on. Every night though, he’d rush home excited to practice his archery and swordsmanship. His father had decided that it was best Clay could defend himself with steel… in case he were to ever to join the Defenders, or run into trouble in the docks. He progressed well in both forms of weapons training, buy his heart was truly in this archery, and it showed with every bullseye.

    At the age of 17, Clayton decided he wanted to see more of the lands than Peltarch. He strapped his swordbelt on, shouldered his bow and pack, and said goodbye to his parents. His mother was reluctant to let him go at a young age of 17, but his father explained to her the mindset of a 17 year old human boy, and why he feels he needs to get away and find himself. Clay held his head high as he walked out of the gates.
    Over the next 8 years, Clay traveled to many of the surrounding lands of Narfell. He very rarely stayed in inns or houses, preferring instead the quiet and solitary life of woodland living. He slept in the woods every night, and hunted and trapped his food every morning. He had never realized how much better life was in the pure lands than it was in the “civilized cities.” He even kept himself company by protecting merchants and travelers that he met along the roads with his archery and swordsmanship skills. He assimilated quickly into the life of the wanderer, the nomad, the Ranger.

    He traveled from Narfell to the Great Dale, and caught a boat over the Inner Sea, towards the Dragon Coast. After a small stay near Amn, he hiked up the Western Heartlands and through Cormyr to the Dalelands. The trip across the Moonsea was particularly uneventful, and when he landed in Damara, he started to realize how close he was to home. He smiled as he crossed into the Narfell region.

    Standing in the crossroads, wondering what to do. He knew he wanted to be home now. Narfell was where he belonged, but he could never go back to living in the city… not after nature had protected and treated him so well. Making a note to visit his parents the first chance he got, Clay turned south and started walking towards Norwick and the Rawlinswood.

  • ICC

    reviewed, XP Pending!