Gunnar Winterstad

Full Name: Gunnar “The Cold” Winterstad
Age: 2,578 (Late 30s)
Caste: Warlord Prince
Race: Full-blood Eyrien
Birthright Jewel: *See Petition*
Offering Jewel: *See Petition*

Birth Territory: Askavi, Kaeleer
Home Territory: Askavi, Kaeleer

Appearance: Gunnar prides himself on being the epitome of Eyrien form: physical strength stemming from the purest of lines is showcased in all of his characteristics. From the forceful jawline with a naturally clean-shaven chin to chiseled calves that have launched him into the sky for millenia, from the broad shoulders and hairless chest to the veined forearms and biceps, he was bred for mêlee combat and trained in all martial arts. All this is fitted into a compact, yet muscular body measuring up at 5’10” and 195 pounds.

He wears his hair long out of spite – a kind of challenge directed as his enemies as if to say, “Yeah, there’s this nice fistful of hair to use against me. See if you can get close enough to grab it, I dare you.” He does braid the strands that descend past his neck tightly together, however, not being one to inconvenience himself with the maintenance of his appearance.

His voice is harsh, deep and wracked by years of leading troops with a booming cry of battle. Still, one would be lucky to hear anything more than a grunt emitted mid-fight. He has always been one to act first and talk later.

More than anything else, his wings are his ultimate display of prowess. Slightly larger than those of an average Eryien, Gunnar’s gleam with the metallic shimmer of hematite. One can see him from far below as a darting ray of sunlight in the sky, or by night, a trace of moonlight that has a will of its own.

Personality: Arrogant to the point of hubris. Gunnar has the experience needed to be a general and has fought on the front lines and in the barracks, fending off the enemies of the Queen and debating tactics among the her military’s finest.

Gunnar has dedicated himself solely to the fight – the energy that would be spent protecting women has been siphoned into his own ambitions. He rarely rides the Killing Edge for there has never been a female significant enough to awaken these instincts in the Warlord Prince. This way, he says, he can fight with a clear head. And has the pleasure of remembering the pain he caused his enemies.

He spends his ruts in the company of one or more selected by Ronivar for “re-education”. He treats the bedroom as a second battlefield, hardly able to separate his lust for killing from his lust for women. They have known to be one in the same. They say that if his victims are lucky enough to have survived, they emerge broken and mad. One can only speculate if the rumors are true: the women are never heard from again.

He is vicious, cruel, unforgiving, and barely controllable. Too many years spent in the throes of battle have given him a taste for violence that goes beyond that of most Eyriens. He is a perversion of a Warlord Prince, one that, deprived of the soft caress of a woman, morphed into something bloodthirsty. One wouldn’t put it past him to instigate a war for it’s own sake.


  • Bringing fame and notoriety back to the Winterstad name
  • Duels, sparring, weapons-practice (especially with the voulge )
  • The rush of battle, the clang of blades, the cries of the wounded
  • Leading/commanding others
  • Flying among the peaks of Askavi


  • His own lack of strength to get what he wants
  • Ronivar, to an extent
  • Males that are clearly pawns of their female counterparts
  • Diplomacy, peace
  • All talk and no action


  • Losing his wings, being physically maimed/disabled
  • Bringing dishonor/shame to his great grandfather’s memory
  • Being outdone by Ronivar
  • Losing his position at Court
  • Learning of an impure blip on his family tree
  • Caring for a woman once more


  • great-grandfather Ragnavar Winterstad – Opal to Red Warlord Prince (DECEASED)
  • grandfather Dmitrivar Winterstad – Purple Dusk to Sapphire Prince (DECEASED)
  • grandmother Avian Merendel – Summer Sky to Green Healer (DECEASED)
  • father Holgar Winterstad – Purple Dusk to Green Prince (DECEASED)
  • grandfather Nemonar Evenden – Purple Dusk to Opal Warlord (DECEASED)
  • grandmother Finnian Savarai – Green to Sapphire Priestess (DECEASED)
  • mother Verdian Savarai – Green to Sapphire Priestess (DECEASED)

Gunnar grew up hearing the legends of his great grandfather – the armies he led, the wars he won, the rulers that he manipulated with the threat of a military coup. Both son and grandson of the Master of the Guard, Ragnavar, followed in his footsteps to be fighters of distinction, but the less turbulent reign of the Gaer family meant they could not ascend as high in rank. Into this family of diminished martial importance he was born, given a name that had been been feared and respected. Once, a long time ago.

This frustration prodded him to detest his family in subtle ways: why couldn’t he have been the son of Ragnavar himself? Why was he born after two lesser Eyrien males had turned the Winterstads into something unremarkable? He naturally entered into the training camps to become a warrior, though earlier than usual. Concealing his real age and bolstered by his innate talent, he braved the Khaldharon Run and later the Blood Run, thus proving himself in the eyes of his people. He was accepted into the Queen’s guard and began to serve Alanian, Haruthian’s mother.

Askavi was soon submerged in conflict. It was during this time that he met and befriended the Warlord Prince Ronivar Vinanka. Though an uneasy kinship at first, both recognized the abilities possessed by the other. He watched as his comrade courted and married the future Queen Haruthian, and slowly came to understand the political significance of Ronivar’s move. He couldn’t help but feel as if the man had cheated, using something other than his own blood and sweat to advance along the social ladder. Gunnar’s own ambition began to bubble, dangerously, to the surface.

Up to that point, Gunnar had responded to the instincts of a Warlord Prince that urged him to serve Queens. He had even believed in a thing called love, having grown up with a mother and father who were still passionately enamored by each other. The sight of Ronivar manipulating the young woman disgusted him, but he held his tongue. He had also grown to understand the practicality of keeping Ronivar in his confidence. If his friend wanted to play that game, he could too. They both developed a relationship of mutual dependence, one man the warrior on the battlefield, the other a puppet master at court.

Disaster struck when Gunnar found himself falling for Haruthian’s younger sister. The young woman showed no interest, however, and he was forced to back down. It seemed unfair that Ronivar held the affections of someone whom he was manipulating and that Gunnar could not win over the woman for whom he cared sincerely. The anger boiled over into a rejection of womankind and a newfound passion for the bladed sticks and swords.

The Warlord Prince grew more dangerous than ever. Things got worse as the Ronivar’s relations with his wife deteriorated, and when Abian succeeded, Gunnar was named to the position of Master of the Guard.

As Ronivar’s sword, Gunnar obeys. But the rivalry remains, unspoken. Given half the chance to topple his best friend, he would. But he knows that he lacks the power and must play his cards in Ronivar’s favor for the time being. With a bent knee to the Warlord Prince in power, Gunnar keeps one eye open for the missing piece to his puzzle of ascension.

Offering Post;;

Gunnar followed the Priestess to the Dark Altar itself, his sword clanging against his armor as he walked. No, he would not strip himself as was custom. As far as he was concerned, these chains of metal were his skin. His silence was enough to frighten the Rose-jeweled woman away, uttering a barely audible blessing of, “May the Darkness embrace you.”

And then he was left alone to face the Darkness.

Nothing out of the ordinary – another battle to be won and a foe to be slain. Only this time, they would be the weaknesses in himself. As a man he had outgrown the insecurities and doubts that had plagued his youth, those things that had driven him to train without end and spar until his limbs refused to move. This would be the final test of his self worth and inner strength.

He had grown into the warrior that his great grandfather would have surely been proud to call comrade. Gunnar was bringing honor and recognition back to the name Winterstad. He would even go so far as to say fear. The thought pleased him.

He ignored the athame left on the altar and drew his own blade to slice his wrist. He performed the ritual and drank of his own blood, letting consciousness slip from him as he descended into the Abyss.

Quickly at first he plunged through the different colored webs, but soon after passing his birthright Opal he felt himself slow. Just a little more, he pleaded, pushing himself farther than he knew he should.

Suddenly he felt the pressure come at him from all sides, and he could not go any further without risking his Core. He ascended rapidly, desperately trying to get away from the crushing feeling that he had hit up against. He opened his eyes to stare upon his gift, praying that it would be what he needed.

But it was not enough. He slammed his fist against the stone hard enough to draw blood. Dammit, he swore. Never enough. He felt in his stomach the cramp of defeat as he turned to face back towards the Royal Eyrie.

Now he would have to face Ronivar as his subordinate once more. Would there be no day when he could stand on higher ground? He left the sacred space, barely able to contain the sword within its sheath. The Priestess did not deserve his anger, he managed to convince himself.

Someone else would suffice.

Birthright Petition

Jewel Rank Requested: Opal Birthright (can I request a descent no lower than Sapphire? For his SL he can’t be of equal rank with Ronivar…)

Why you feel the character deserves this Jewel rank: He needs to be dark enough to contend with Ronivar and be considered among his ranks, yet he is far more proficient with hand to hand combat than with Craft, and has always been less powerful than his friend. They were war comrades in earlier times, and it wouldn’t make as much sense if Ronivar were associated so closely with one considerably weaker than himself. The closeness in rank would be part of the source for his inferiority complex/rivalry. The frustration at always being second-best and following your friend’s orders for centuries can ride on the volatile ego of a Warlord Prince.

Plans for this character: Take up the position of MotG in the Court of Askavi, Kaeleer. A potential foil for Ronivar, considering the rivalry between the two. Gunnar will become acquainted with Renian, and potentially entangled in that SL. In essence, he will be a character that may or may not stir up wars, but at least be a source of tension in the Court at Askavi.

Other petitions you’ve made here: None

Player Name: Kat

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