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Sir Kyrian
Sir Kyrian
Sir Kyrian
Sir Kyrian
Sir Kyrian promotion in the Axe

Sir Kyrian

Realm: Andor, formerly of Rhûn, Numenor, and Wolfpack

Units: Knights of Numenor,Clan of the Hydra

Real Name: Ian

Started Fighting: 1991

Knighted: 1994

Orginal Realm: Numenor 1991-1995

Amtgard Burning Lands (El Paso, TX) 1995-1999

Wolfpack of the High Plains 1999-2008

Rhûn 2008-2010

Current Realm: Andor

Weapon styles: two sword, sword & shield, archery

Interesting Facts

  • His full name is Sir Kyrian Hawksword.
  • To the lesser peoples, he is known as The Great Sir Kyrian.
  • That means you.
  • The great Sir Kyrian is the patron saint of Belegarth
  • The Great Sir Kyrian poops more knowledge about fighting in one sitting then either you or I will ever know in our fighting careers.
  • It is a little known fact that if one were to cut open The Great Sir Kyrian, one would in fact find another, smaller Great Sir Kyrian. It has been rumored that this has already happened.
  • Sir Kyrian wears armor as a courtesy to his opponents because his bare skin destroys weapons.
  • Sir Kyrian doesn't dodge arrows; arrows dodge him.
  • Sir Kyrian's swords are so sharp you can cut yourself by thinking about them.
  • Sir Kyrian is a kind enough individual, he walks up to you and apologizes for shooting you every battle.
  • Sir Kyrian once caught an arrow mid flight and shot it back to its rightful owner.
  • Sir Kyrian got bit by a snake once at Chaos, and after three long days of pain and agony, the snake eventually died.
  • Sir Kyrian once saved Salamander with his dance moves.
  • Sir Kyrian doesn't need to defend himself on the field; weapons are afraid of hitting him
  • When he walks into a room, the nearest squire must yell the following: The Great Sir Kyrian Hawksword, Patron Saint of Belegarth, Once and Future President, Knight of Andor, Legendary Straight, Member of Wolfguard, Captain of the Order of the Axe in Valdemar, Knight of Numenor, Knight of Wolfpack, Commander of Clan of the Hydra and Viscount of the West, Honorary Member of Elite Blood Falcons, Sire of Dame Unicorn the Resolute, Sire of Sir Melannen the Exemplar, Professor Errant, Mayor of a Little Town Up on the Coast, He of the Fast Draw and Long Arrow, Summoner of Peacocks, Mashoonga Bringer, Slayer of Dragons, Pitiless to Ogres, Destroyer of Griffins and Giants, No friend to Gargoyles, Nice to the needy, Sportsman, Poet, Swordsman, Statesman, Nifty Dancer,Sailor of the Oceans, Surveyor of the Mountains and Valleys and All Around Great Guy....

Credit to Tobin for writing this:

Introduction in a novel

"While there were no direct proscriptions against working this particular house, the Thieves Guild had no record of the property ever having been hit. That, in itself, was odd: the Guild kept meticulous logs on housebreaking, detailing the take of every property so as to prevent infighting and assassinations when inevitable questions about shares and percentages arose.

"The little walled estate in the middle of the city should have been a prime target; each of its neighbors had been robbed regularly, every five years or so, for the last four generations. No dogs patrolled it's gardens, and the gardens themselves held only mundane flowers, herbs, and fruit trees--no poison-thorn bushes or man-eating bromeliads. Careful observation revealed a small compliment of men-at-arms; old soldiers all, no marks of exceptional or exotic training or signs of particular bloodthirstiness or ruthlessness. The minor Lord who owned the estate lived quietly and traveled frequently, probably on business.

"It should have been an easy score.

"Standard grappling hooks got the three novice thieves over the garden walls as the sun set, and the doors leading to the garden were unlocked in less than half a minute. They led to a wide kitchen where the thieves indulged in a moment or two of cupboard-raiding (old Lord Hawksword was particularly fond of Parisian chocolate bread, it seemed) before moving into the house.

"Lord Hawksword himself was seated at the dining-room table, apparently reviewing contracts. The young thieves stopped short in the doorway with an unbecoming clatter of grappling hooks, lockpicks, and weapons, surprised to see the man in residence.

"For his part, Lord Hawksword didn't seem surprised at all. 'Oh, hello,' he said in a pleasant voice, busily scribing with a short quill in the margins of one of the half-dozen sheets of vellum set before him. 'Give me just a moment to finish this note, hmm?'

"One of the thieves was already maneuvering to slip behind his chair, a rag in hand that dripped with a mild dose of knockout juice. Swiftly the thief reached for the man's collar with one hand, bringing the rag around to smother his mouth and nose.

"Neither of the other two novices really saw what happened next; in their official Guild report, they could only verify that their bolder companion went flying, and that upon inspection the knockout rag was forced between his teeth, rendering him instantly unconscious. Likewise neither was able to give any precise detail about how old Lord Hawksword--who was apparently not so old after all--managed to suddenly be across the room with a truncheon in each hand. All they could really say was that their training had been woefully inadequate when it concerned subduing Lords who lived deceptively simple lives but who could, it seemed, take a man apart with a wooden baton and never break a sweat.

"The three thieves were found at midnight in front of the Guild house, trussed up as neatly as fresh hams, one if them still lolling in the aftereffect of knockout juice. A note was pinned to the front of his shirt, writ in a fine hand: 'Not as good as last year's! Still, I appreciate the effort. Looking forward to next year!' "

Sir Kyrian

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