Gerret Frostwyght
Roaming the realm, Gerret Frostwyght is the kind of presence people remember when things get dangerous. Not loud, not celebrated, but often there when it matters most.He offers his strength where it’s needed, usually without asking for recognition. Beneath a hardened exterior is a steady resolve and a loyalty that shows itself more through action than words.He tends to step in when others cannot or will not, though he rarely frames it as anything noble. To him, it’s just what needs to be done in the moment.His path has been shaped by loss, duty, and choices that rarely came with clean outcomes. Whatever he stands for now is less about ideals, and more about refusing to let certain things go unchecked.He doesn’t see himself as a symbol between light and shadow. Just someone trying to stand where he’s needed, even if it costs him something in the process.
His theme song if you want to listen whilst reading.(please turn down, its very loud carrd has screwed up music linking)
Gerret Frostwyght is the kind of man who doesn’t talk much unless he has to. Life’s worn him down in all the usual ways and a few worse ones. He grew up poor, but his parents did everything they could to make it feel like enough. That didn’t last. Someone desperate and cruel took their lives over scraps, and that was the end of whatever childhood he had left.After that, he needed somewhere to go, something to hold onto, so he lied about his age and joined the Empire. Too young, too angry, but they took him anyway.At first, he believed in it. Really believed. The Empire meant order, structure… a way to make the world make sense. He threw himself into it, into every battle they sent him to. Years blurred together, stretched and twisted by the strange presence that follows him, but one moment never faded.Carteneau.That was where everything cracked. He fought hard, like always, but it didn’t matter. Friends died. Good people died. And for what? Standing there in the aftermath, something in him finally gave out. Whatever faith he had left in the Empire didn’t survive that field.So he walked away.The Immortal Flames felt like a second chance. Different banner, different purpose. Truth was, they’d been the enemy once. He’d faced the Eorzean Alliance at Carteneau, watched the way they fought, and he hadn’t liked what he saw. That should’ve been enough to walk away.But the world called them the good guys. So he gave them a chance anyway. Maybe this time it would mean something. Maybe all of it hadn’t just been different sides of the same mistake.It didn’t take long for that hope to wear thin. The same problems, just dressed up differently. Same failures. Same people getting hurt.Now, he keeps people at arm’s length. It’s easier that way. He comes off cold, distant, like he doesn’t care… but it’s not the truth. Not really. Under all that, he’s still the kind of man who steps in when someone can’t protect themselves. He just hates what it costs.Because every time he lets someone get close, it ends the same way. Loss. It always circles back to that.These days, he works as a mercenary. No banners, no promises. Just jobs. But he’s not doing it for coin alone, no matter what he says. He’s seen what the big powers do, what they’re willing to sacrifice, and he’s done pretending it’s justified.If there’s any balance left in the world, he figures it won’t come from them. So he does what he can. One fight at a time.
Name: Gerret FrostwyghtRace: Hyur HighlanderAge: 38Pronouns: He/HimAlignment: Lawful Evil,
Forged in the crucible of war and driven by a relentless commitment to his version of justice, Gerret Frostwyght wields a code of order to bring about his vision of a world free from chaos, even if it means embracing ruthless methods to achieve his endsHis Theme Song: 3days by Mitchel DaeClass: MachinistResidence: Now in and around Kugane, but he can be found roaming around.Profession: Mercenary, Adventuring
--Appearance--
Gerret Frostwyght stands around 5'9", built in that solid, practical way that comes from years of fighting and surviving. Not bulky for show, not lean for speed, just… efficient. The kind of build that does what it needs to.His hair is a dark brown, usually hidden under a hood, mask or his usual fedora, but when it’s not, it falls in a controlled, almost habitual way, like even that’s been trained into place. His face shows his life more than he ever would. Worn, tired in places, sharpened in others. A neatly kept beard softens it just enough to keep him from looking completely unapproachable.His eyes are hazel, though most people don’t hold his gaze long enough to notice. There’s too much sitting behind them. Too much history.The first thing most people do notice is the scar across his right eye. It’s deep enough to draw attention, but not enough to take the eye itself. He kept his sight. Kept going. That alone says more about him than he ever will.Under the armor, it only gets worse.Scars layer over scars, old and new, like a map of everything he’s been through. Some come from monsters, teeth and claws that tore into him and didn’t quite finish the job. Others are cleaner. Blades. Bullets. Fights that were supposed to be more “civilized.”And then there are the ones people don’t ask about. The kind that come from time spent locked up, from places and moments he doesn’t talk about. The kind you notice, and then decide not to.Despite all of it, he’s in good shape.--Personality--
Gerret comes off hard. Distant. Like he’s already decided how things end and doesn’t see the point in pretending otherwise. Most people read it as stoicism. It’s easier that way.Truth is, he just doesn’t talk. Not because he can’t, but because once he starts, there’s too much behind it. Silence is simpler. Safer. If he doesn’t say it, he doesn’t have to sit with it.He carries a lot. More than he lets on, more than he probably knows what to do with. Guilt, mostly. Loss. The kind of memories that don’t stay in the past where they’re supposed to. They linger, show up at the worst times, refuse to let go. Still… he hasn’t gone cold. Not really.No matter how much he tries to keep his distance, he can’t ignore it when someone needs help. He steps in. Every time. Like it’s instinct. Like it’s the only part of himself he hasn’t managed to bury yet. And he hates it a little.Because every time he protects someone, it reminds him of all the times he couldn’t. Every life he couldn’t save. Every moment he was too late, or too far, or just not enough. It stays with him. You can see it, sometimes. In the quiet moments, when he thinks no one’s looking. The way his focus drifts. The way his eyes don’t quite match where he is.Like part of him never really left those battlefields.
--Given Gerret Frostwyght's background as a battle-hardened mercenary with a complex past, there are several hooks or rumors that could circulate about him. Here are a few potential hooks that might make you aware of him--
-Veteran of the Battle of Carteneau-Gerret was there at Carteneau. Not on the edges, not hearing about it later. Right in it.He doesn’t talk about what happened that day, but he doesn’t really have to. Anyone else who was there can see it on him. The way he carries himself. The way he watches a battlefield, even when there isn’t one.Among other veterans, his name tends to come up with a certain kind of understanding. Not respect in the grand, heroic sense. Something quieter than that. The kind you give someone who made it through the same hell you did.To everyone else, it’s just history. A famous battle, something to read about or argue over. To Gerret, it’s not a story. It’s a memory that never really settled.He didn’t walk away from Carteneau a hero.He just walked away.
-Former Military Contacts-Gerret still has ties to the military. Not clean ones, not official, but they’re there.People he fought beside. People who survived the same battles. That kind of thing doesn’t just disappear, even when everything else does.Every now and then, someone reaches out. Not through proper channels, never that. Quiet jobs. Favors. Things they can’t, or won’t, put their name on. And sometimes… he listens.Doesn’t mean he likes it.Whatever sense of loyalty used to be there has worn thin over time. What’s left is complicated. Shared history, mostly. The kind that keeps him from walking away outright, even when he probably should.He doesn’t trust the military anymore. Not the Empire, not the Eorzean Alliance, not any of it. He’s seen too much of how it all works behind the scenes, and it’s left a bad taste he can’t quite shake.Still, those old connections linger.Frayed, strained, but not completely broken.And that makes things… messy.
-Contract & Professional Circles-Gerret’s name moves through a lot of different hands in the working world, but never in just one shape.In mercenary guilds, he shows up in ledgers as a dependable hire. The kind of man sent after problems that don’t come back neatly solved. He doesn’t linger between jobs, and he doesn’t build ties, but he finishes what he’s paid for. That alone is enough for most guilds to keep him on a quiet list of recommended contracts.Among adventurers, the view shifts slightly. Less formal, more personal. He’s remembered as someone steady in dangerous situations, not the loudest presence in a party, but often the one still standing when things start falling apart. Newer adventurers tend to misunderstand him at first, expecting something more dramatic. Veterans usually don’t.In bounty hunter circles, his name carries a different weight. Not just as a contractor, but sometimes as a target. There are inconsistencies in those records, enough that opinions split on whether pursuing him is worth the risk. Some see a reliable mark tied to a valuable reputation. Others treat it as a bad idea they’ve heard too many stories about to ignore.Across all three circles, one pattern repeats.He doesn’t stay long in anyone’s system. Not fully. Not cleanly.There are stories about jobs that went wrong in ways no ledger records properly. The kind where the situation stopped being simple, where allies and enemies blurred at the edges. In those versions of the story, Gerret doesn’t always distinguish between them. If someone on his side crossed a line too far, became something the job no longer justified, the outcome was the same as it would’ve been for any other threat.People don’t agree on how often that happened. Only that it did.He works alone more often than not, and when he does align with others, it tends to be temporary by design rather than accident. That makes him useful, but hard to place. The kind of person different groups can describe, but never fully agree on.And over time, that uncertainty becomes part of his reputation just as much as anything else.Not quite trusted. Not quite feared. Not quite anything stable enough to hold still.Just… effective, in ways people remember differently afterward.
-Tavern Tales-In smaller towns, Gerret’s name tends to show up in tavern talk sooner or later.It usually starts with someone who swears they’ve seen him fight. Or heard about it from someone who “definitely knows what happened.” From there it grows, like these things always do.By the time it reaches a few tables over, he’s already been turned into something a bit larger than he really is. A dangerous mercenary. A wandering protector. Sometimes both at once, depending on who’s telling it and how much they’ve been drinking.Sometimes, the stories drift into stranger shapes too, mentions of him fighting in arenas, or taking part in tournaments long ago. Nobody agrees on whether that part is real or just another layer added on over time, and Gerret never confirms anything either way.And then there are quieter moments in the telling. Not the exaggerated kind, but softer accounts, someone who showed up when trouble came too close, dealt with it, and didn’t stay long enough to be thanked. Those versions don’t last in the noise of tavern talk, but they tend to come from people who were actually there.Travelers passing through pick it up too, then carry it elsewhere, where it mutates again.Every so often, someone tries to track him down because of it. Some out of curiosity. Some out of confidence they can measure themselves against the stories. They usually don’t find what they expect.Gerret himself doesn’t do much about it. He hears the rumors eventually, in bits and pieces, and mostly just lets them pass. Correcting them never really changes anything, and arguing with tavern stories feels like a losing battle from the start.Still, it follows him. From place to place. A version of him that keeps getting rewritten by people who never met him.
-Tales of Redemption-The stories about Gerret don’t always stay consistent. Some say he’s trying to make up for what he’s done. Others say there’s no redemption in it at all, just a man moving forward because he has nowhere else to go. What people agree on is that his past isn’t clean.Soldier. Enforcer. Mercenary. The details shift depending on who’s speaking, but the shape of it stays the same. He’s been on the wrong side of things often enough that the line between “who he was” and “who he is now” gets blurry. He doesn’t talk about it. That part is certain.Whatever changed in him didn’t happen all at once. It feels more like erosion than a turning point. Pieces wearing away over time until he ended up somewhere he didn’t originally mean to be. To some, that makes him a warning. A reminder of what happens when loyalty and violence stop having direction.To others, it’s something else. Not inspiration exactly, but the idea that people don’t stay fixed. That even someone shaped by all of that can still choose where they go next, even if it isn’t clean or simple.If there’s redemption in his story, it isn’t loud. It’s just the fact that he keeps moving.
-Supernatural-Something follows Gerret.It’s not spoken about clearly, not by people who know better. When it does come up, it’s in fragments. Old words. Half-remembered warnings. Names that don’t quite agree with each other.“The Whispers of Time Immortal.”
“The Voices in the Wall.”
“The Whispering Screams.”None of them feel like the full truth. What is consistent is the effect.People who get too close to it, or too aware of it, don’t stay stable for long. They start hearing things. Seeing things that aren’t there. The mind bends before the body does. Most don’t last long after that.Some stories claim a few survive it. Not cleanly. Not as they were. Changed in ways nobody can agree on, bound to it in some way that stops being human in any normal sense.Gerret is the one it clings to now.Always present, never fully seen the same way twice. Those sensitive to the unnatural describe it as something pressed against the edge of perception, like a presence that refuses to be looked at directly. Not gone when he leaves. Not absent when he’s still.Trying to learn more about it usually ends the same way: people stop asking. Gerret doesn’t talk about it either.Not because he won’t. Because there’s nothing useful that comes from putting it into words. What is certain is this: it doesn’t leave him.It doesn’t fade, doesn’t weaken, doesn’t get exorcised, sealed, or reasoned away. Every attempt ends the same way it began, with nothing changed except the realization that it’s still there.And over time, something else becomes obvious. Gerret doesn’t age like he should.The presence bound to Gerret has changed what he is over time. He ages slower than he should, and his body endures punishment that would end most lives outright. Whatever it is doing to him, it has made him survive things he shouldn’t. He still bleeds, still breaks, still has the ability to die, but not in the way people expect when they see a mortal man.Gerret's spectral companion is known to absorb one's light, Gerret is not a Warrior of Light, as the powers of light cannot reach him, forever consumed by the darkness that shadows his being. Gerret's soul was tainted by this entity, rendering him unable to have the powers of light. No amount of light, even if it were to reach him, could affect his tainted soul, There is no chance of these powers coming to Gerret.Whatever this thing is, it isn’t just following him. It’s staying.(Picture is what it looks like, it will never leave him, no matter how much you or he tries)
-More To Come-