STATISTICS

Name: Colwyn Cúailbhe

Pronunciation: KOHL-win koo-ALva

Meaning:
Colwyn - Welsh. This word is commonly used as a name for streams and rivers. Colwyn was named after his grandfather with little thought to the meaning of the word - if his parents had bothered to do a thorough search, they would have learned that it actually means "young animal" and may have been a tad less keen.
Ailbhe - Gaelic. May mean "white." The name of a female warrior of the Fianna, this was the name given to the area where Col's family has resided for centuries. "Cú" is the Gaelic word for a dog (or hound, or wolf). Put together, this surname means "The Hound of Ailbhe."
Combining the first and last names, you get the rather quaint "Little Hound of Ailbhe," which Colwyn was amused enough with in grade school to allow as a joking nickname. He did draw the line at any "puppy" comments, however.

Nicknames: You can call him Col if you want, but he's just as comfortable having fellow pilots call him by his surname (if they can pronounce it). As mentioned, he's used "The Little Hound of Ailbhe" as a sort of 'signature' in the past, though no one would use this to address him.

Age: A reckless and restless 22.

Birthdate: April 2.

Zodiac Sign: Aries.

Hometown: Colwyn was actually born and raised in Caer Ailbhe, the name for the vast expanse of land owned by his family. Caer Ailbhe is made up of the manor house, a farmhouse and stables, and several acres of woods and fields. However, it's not actually a township or even a village. If asked where he was from, he would state the nearest city, Mortremar, which is about an hour journey on horseback from the steps of Caer Ailbhe. (You can read more about Mortremar in the "Additional Information" section at the bottom.)

Likes: The outdoors, especially woods; the thrill of the chase; the undying admiration of his peers; the seaside (anything to do with it – the smell or sound of the ocean, the sight of a gull, even the freezing cold water and rocky shore, they all remind him of home); giant comfy beds that are ridiculously bigger than he is; the finer things in life; the smell of gunpowder or smoke (especially in connection with cooking meat); natural materials (furs and leathers and suedes); candlelight (much nicer than harsh electric lighting); a nice sturdy pair of gloves; THE NIGHT (omg he is such a vampyr lol); predators and birds of prey; good old-fashioned feasts on big ol' oak tables with lots of wild game.

Dislikes: Magic and magic-users (as he can't do it, he has a great deal of disdain for those who can); long journeys (anything more than a day, especially on horseback); stories or movies which are decidedly anticlimactic; lots of talking and planning and other boring things (this includes theoretical or philosophical discussions); chatty people in general; fancy social occasions (he loathes his parents' little dinner parties); being compared to other people ("The Dinkleberg's son...!" "Well, my LAST boyfriend..."); "environmentalists" who think everyone should be a vegetarian and fail to appreciate the beauty of the FOOD CHAIN; the smell of rain.

Quirks: As you may have noticed from his list of likes, Colwyn is quite sensitive to smells. He's good at picking them up, but more than that, he tends to have a sensory memory – he remembers things in terms of scent and feel as much as visual and auditory cues. A whiff of cookies baking or the scent of the sea bring a rush of memories and emotions for him. His memory's just much more tuned to his senses than to cognitive memories like events. He may have difficulty with names, events, even faces, but he can remember things he's experienced pretty vividly.

Additionally, though Colwyn in general scorns smoking – you'd have to be an idiot to do something that harmed your performance – he is known to carry a couple of small, thin cigars with him on missions. He's quite fond of the concept of the victory cigar, a nasty habit he picked up from his father and his hunting buddies, although he doesn't generally smoke them otherwise.

Hobbies: Colwyn's big hobby is hunting, which is mentioned throughout this profile. He generally favours hunting on horseback (complete with an old bone hunting horn, thank you) and with his hounds, but has tried and enjoys a variety of styles. He'll hunt anything from a rabit to a tiger if given the opportunity. He enjoys hunting on his parents' property and in the forests of Surres and Aristes, or wherever he may be. He'd love to travel and be able to hunt more exotic beasts, and currently has his eye on mounting a dragon head above his mantle. His other hobbies include training, reading hunting magazines, riding, amateur 'falconry' (see "Pets" at the bottom of this profile), playing stupid and sometimes nasty tricks on his household staff or other innocents, complaining that there's nothing to do, playing Cat's Cradle (a children's game that involves making different shapes with a piece of string — immature to be sure, but he's quite good at it and usually carries a bit of string on him for when he gets restless or is stuck in some boring pilots' meeting), sniffing out food, going down to the seaside to hang around the boardwalk or go swimming in the harbour (usually with his mates at home), shooting at seagulls on the beach, and lounging about when he's not doing any of the other things.

Strengths: Keen senses and observation skills (good eye for detail); brave (albeit stupid); self-confident (though some would say "full of bravado"); thick-skinned (not one to go crying home to mommy); knows his way around outside; excellent tracker, good outdoorsman, and fair marksman.

Weaknesses: Immature, prone to poor judgment; unable to hold his own against a pretty lady; tends to look before he leaps and can be goaded or taunted into doing something; no magical defenses whatsoever; uncomfortable in hot environments. Really, he has plenty of weaknesses – just read through his personality. I can't possibly sum up all of his flaws here.

Fears: Even though Colwyn is comfortable at the beach and is a fairly strong swimmer, one of his big fears is drowning. He's heard far too many tales of people getting lost at sea, and is generally distrustful of boats in general. He won't go further out than he thinks he can swim back. He dismisses notions of undercurrents and other hidden dangers in shallow waters because to acknowledge this fear would have meant constant torment as a child. Still, the thought of death by drowning gives him the shudders and you can bet he'll be as far from the ocean as possible in the event of a storm. Col is also, like many people from his area, rather superstitious. Even though he may put on false bravado when the subject of spooks comes up, he's really absolutely terrified of ghosts and will be the first one out the door if there's even a suspicion that one's about. He may claim they don't exist just to avoid getting crap about it, but when it comes down to it it's a firm-rooted belief he simply can't shake. And, though it hardly comes up, he's quite terrified of death (understandably) and serious bodily injury. His "bravery" is really a result of being oblivious and thinking himself (and others) invincible – if he were confronted with the actual possibility that he might die, he'd be a basketcase. He's not one to take such notions with a "stiff upper lip."

Aspirations: Though Colwyn would never state his life goal as "lounging around and squandering my parents' fortune," it's more than likely what he'll end up doing. He has no aspirations in terms of a career or life goals - most of his "aspirations" are short-term affairs, and generally easily conquerable. He aspires to be a champion trophy hunter, he aspires to be a ladykiller (and possibly actually bag a pretty wife some day), and he aspires to be well-liked, well-fed, and well-taken care of. That's about it - he'd claim he was a simple man to please. (His staff would heartily disagree.)

Occupation: Job? What job? Who needs a job when you're filthy stinking rich?

Favourite Foods: Colwyn is quite partial to hearty, stick-to-your-ribs foods that help warm you against a cold Surrean winter. He's quite fond of thick stews, steak pies, and the like. His favourite dishes, of course, are meat – all you need to please him, really, is a nice big turkey leg or a juicy venison steak. He's quite the carnivore and adores the taste of meat cooked straight over a fire. You can rest assured he definitely eats what he kills, at least as much as he's able. He'll also eat fish, if it's just a mild whitefish, but he's not a big fan of really strong fish or "fruity tropical varieites." Fish has so much less substance than "real" meat that, in his opinion, you don't need to make it any worse by dishing it up with fruit like it's part of a salad.

Hated Foods: Colwyn is a spoiled child who refused to eat his veggies, and as such there are quite a few (from brusselsprouts to artichokes to green beans) that he simply won't touch. Any vegetable "lightly grilled" or "sauteed in [insert seasoning]" is not for him. He prefers his veggies boiled almost to mush, thanks. He's also not fond of strong fish, as mentioned above, and is definitely not a fan of other seafood like crab, lobster, squid, etc. He's also grown up on relatively mild food so things with lots of spices will get an odd look from him, and it doesn't take much hot spice to be too much for him to handle.

Totem/Favourite Animal: Colwyn's always allowed himself to be associated with dogs – and why not? Their good qualities far outnumber their bad – so if he was ever asked "What's your totem?" or "What animal do you think you'd be?" he'd likely just shrug and answer "Hunting dog, I s'pose." Not that he's ever given this much though - he just identifies greatly with them and gets along with them very well (better than humans, at times). His favourite animal other than dogs is, oddly enough, the salamander. Flaming little beasties that match his hair tickle him something fierce, and he's had several as pets. (See Pets under Additional Information.)

APPEARANCE

Face: Colwyn's facial structure is fairly nondescript. He's got a long nose and infuriatingly expressive eyebrows, but beyond that he's fairly average. Chin, cheekbones, jawline, all there but not making too much of a fuss about themselves. He's quite good at adopting a perfect puppy expression when he wants something, though his features are normally set in a smug grin or a smirk.

Eyes: Colwyn's eyes wouldn't be a very noticeable feature if it weren't for their colour. His lashes are light and short, not very noticeable and not really bringing his eyes to anyone's attention. However, the fact that they are a bright, vibrant emerald green makes them stand out almost as much as his attention-whore hair.

Hair: Short, with bangs that fall just barely past his eyebrows when down, and red, red, RED. Shock red would be an adequate description. It's an attention-grabbing, deep red that manages to completely clash with almost every other colour in existence, making dressing himself attractively a nightmare. He usually throws in a little gel and sweeps it up and out of his way. Thankfully, vanity is not one of his many personality flaws.

Skin: Colwyn's skin is fair and pinkish peach in hue, and burns fairly easily in the sun. His skin seems mostly unblemished, but that could just be because you couldn't see any specific "blemishes" because he is almost 100% from head to toe covered in freckles. Freckles liberally adorn his cheeks, getting slightly lighter but still many and still clearly visible on the rest of his face. Other heavily freckled areas are his shoulders and back of his neck, tops of his arms and, for some weird reason, his feet. That's not to say the rest of him isn't quite covered – it is. Less freckle-heavy areas are his stomach and lower back, undersides of arms, and obvious places like his palms and under his feet. The freckle-status of his unmentionables shall remain a mystery (until some brave lass takes it upon herself to seek out this information.)

Body: He's of fairly average height (perhaps 5'8" or 5'9"), with a fit, vaguely muscular build that comes from years of running around and being athletic without actually being an athlete. He's not particularly lean or trim or any of that nonsense, rather just an average looking fellow with some muscle under there. No one's going to be asking him to pose for Playgirl any time soon, but nor does he have to worry about anyone suggesting a diet.

Identifying Marks: The freckles aren't enough? Oh, fine then. Colwyn has quite a few scars, collected from years of roughhousing and spending time outdoors shooting at things. He has a couple of very faint, barely noticeable (especially with all those freckles) scars on his right cheek, the origins of which you'll find in History below. He also has a variety of other minor scars, such as a short one under his knee from a particularly bad scrape when he was little, a few scars on his back from falls off horses, and other tiny scars on his arms and legs from the typical childish roughhousing and doing stupid things.

Usual Attire: Colwyn has an eclectic mix of clothes, but rest assured all of them are of the finest quality and cost a pretty penny. His outfit changes drastically based on his agenda for the day (his activities determine whether he's wearing tough outdoors-y clothes or more "elegant" clothing), but in general he favours layers, durable "natural" fabrics (like cottons and wools), and "wintery" clothing. He's a big fan of sweaters, capes, cloaks, and zip-ups. He prefers heavier fabrics for his pants, durable khakis or denims or corduroys. It's very difficult to generalise his outfit in terms of colours – one day he'll be all earth tones, the next decked out in royal blue and black. He's usually a pretty random mix, often mixing in bright primaries like reds or greens with earth tones for a more dramatic appearance. He gave up trying to accomodate his hair and eye colours into his wardrobe long ago, so he doesn't bother himself wondering if something would look good on a redhead. As far as accessories go, he really adores capes, as mentioned, and anything that goes on your arms or hands – he's usually found in some form of gloves, wristguards, etc. He also generally wears a gold ring with his family crest on it, and he has his left (right as you look at him) ear pierced, in which he wears a simple gold "tag" earring. As far as boxers or briefs go.. you'll have to find out yourself.

Carriage: He's an arrogant little shit, what do you expect? Words like saunter, swagger, prowl, and stalk can all be applied fairly. He's definitely one to fade into the background or slip into a room unnoticed. He oozes overconfidence and a touch of "You know you want me." Which makes him all the more noticeable for being that arrogant little shit who seems to think he's actually going to get laid. Suffice to say, Colwyn can manage to make even a simple action like entering a room positively infuriating.

Voice: Colwyn has a very distinct voice, medium-range, which is quite heavily accented. Fortunately for him, the eastern coast of Surres has one of the more easily understandable dialects, though he does often come up with words no one else has ever heard of. Like anyone else, his accent tends to get thicker when upset or otherwise highly emotional, though he's usually fairly comprehensible. The Surrean accent in general contains a lot of rolled r's and "ch" sounds. (To cheat, think of it as a mix of Northeastern Scottish [Grampian, specifically] and western Welsh.)

PERSONALITY

As an introduction, it must be stressed that regardless of how nobly he presents himself and despite his few redeeming qualities, Colwyn is a completely disagreeable, infuriating, and often wholly insufferable prick. He is a swaggering, smug bastard who likes to think himself much bigger than he is. He is the type who, were this a scifi movie about aliens on another planet, would get half the team killed and the audience would cheer when he finally snuffed it. With that in mind, let us begin.

Colwyn's primary personality traits are that he is immature, cocky, and completely spoiled. It's quite apparent to all that meet him that he's lived in the lap of luxury his whole life, and equally apparent that he thinks he's Hot Stuff. It's not that he's particularly vain, necessarily – he does make an effort to keep himself as presentable as possible, but he's hardly bothered about plunging headfirst into a thornbush and isn't one to panic over a scratch on his nose or the like. It's just that he's unbelievably, unbearingly arrogant. The boy has a definite swagger. He's an insatiable braggart, always willing and eager to share tales of his latest epic exploits, and loves nothing more than to hear about how fabulous he is. As such, he's sure to surround himself with plenty of admirers who will coo over him and shower him in praise. He especially loves to be praised in public and adores feeling that others are jealous of him. He's particularly fond of female attention, and tends to gravitate towards women who are too stupid to realise he's not worth the time of day. He prefers to be the center of attention when talking about himself and dislikes it when people try to best his stories with one of their own. He's definitely one to engage in a "pissing contest," especially when alcohol is at hand.

Col also has a terrible habit for talking himself up. He brags like mad, and it's quite clear a lot of what he says is exaggeration. He never outright lies and makes things up, but the size of a bear may mysteriously double in his memory depending on the number of other witnesses present. In general, he scorns lying, but is quite comfortable with "stretching the truth." If you ask him "What happened?!" he's sure to leave out the potentially incriminating details, but if you ask him outright "Did you ___?" he'll confess in as straightforward a manner as if you'd asked his favourite flavour of icecream. He's incredibly frustrating that way – as has been said of him, he won't lie to you as long as you know the right way to word the question. Relatedly, he really dislikes the idea of cheating and gets highly offended if accused of it, but he does like to "tip the scales" in his favour. He won't cheat outright, but if he can do something to turn the tables to his advantage, he won't let the opportunity pass him by. He likes to complain to anyone who will listen that things are just "too easy" for him, but the truth is that he would much, much rather take the easier road than risk failing (or worse, losing). As he's very fond of reminding his fellow pilots, "All's fair in love and war."

Despite being utterly spoiled and pampered, Col has a bit of a chip on his shoulder and tends to see unfairness everywhere. Your slice of cake is bigger than his, he deserved that promotion far more than you did, etc. He loves to feel others are jealous of him but really hates feeling that way himself. He can't stand for someone else to have something he wants, or be happier with their lives than him. He really hates to see people happy in situations he wouldn't be happy in; he scowls at people living in poverty who are more content than him. He bitches and whines as much as he gloats when things don't go his way. He's a true sulker, stomping about and causing a ruckus if someone tells him "no." He's extremely immature in this regard, and is the type to decide someone is obviously a complete idiot if they don't recognise how incredibly FABULOUS he is.

Colwyn has a keen sense of competition, but he's not interested in being The Best – just Better Than You. He competes for the satisfaction of seeing the losers' faces, though the praise is a nice bonus. He's an avid hunter – this will be discussed throughout this profile – and is the same way in that. He's a trophy hunter who hunts for the thrill of defeating something bigger than him. He particularly loves exotic animals and predators, since they're more of a "challenge." Of course, in saying this, Colwyn could never be accused of being a particularly good sportsman – like in life, he's a rather unfair hunter, not hesitating to ambush his prey or use whatever weaponry is at his disposal. He participates in the type of "sport" that really isn't sport at all – though he has had his share of close calls, in the majority if his "deadly" hunts, there's no real chance for the animal at all. Though he dislikes the idea of hunting an animal in a caged-in environment, he sees things like tracking devices and such to be simply one advantage man has over beasts, and therefore perfectly fair game. He has little regard for life – he's a firm supporter of the food chain/survival of the fittest model, where he's on top and all the creatures of the earth are below him. (Though privately, the idea of killing nother person kind of makes him queasy.) He does respect some animals, particularly predators, but has no trouble reconciling this respect with his subsequent killing of them – it's perfectly natural to respect one's enemy in war, right? And the greater his prey, the more it speaks well of him for triumphing over it. He tends to have little regard for "prey animals" (like deer) or animals which exist to serve merely as decoration (which includes most people's pets – he believes a cat should earn its keep like everything else). As such, Colwyn does have a great deal of respect for dragons (he has no difficulty in believing in them, even though he's never seen one), though this makes him even more eager to catch one. He's especially hopeful (and has made this known to his superiors) that he will have the opportunity to kill one himself and be permitted to have its head (or the whole thing, if possible!) stuffed and mounted.

As all of this implies, Colwyn is not incredibly nice to people 'below' him. Anyone from his personal household staff to a waiter at a restaurant are subject to his criticism. He cleary thinks anyone in such a position is below him, and treats them as such. One thing you will never have to worry about with Colwyn is where you stand with him – he's got a real pack mentality, constantly sussing out his standing compared to everyone else. Usually, of course, he sees himself as Top Dog, though there are exceptions and people who earn his respect enough that they move up the pecking order in his mind. (For instance, his father is above him in his mind's eye, and his mother is about ten miles above either of the two of them.) Additionally, despite the fact that he seeks out people who will (ahem) "fangirl" over him, he has some amount of disdain for them since they must, obviously, be 'below' him to be idolizing him. As such, he tends to hve difficulty making real, close friends, as he completely puts off anyone worthwhile with his obnoxious bravado, and isn't remotely interested in the sorts of people who fawn over him. As an extension of this, he tends not to trust other people for "serious" matters and has learned to rely only on himself. Everyone else, obviously, is too stupid/weak/etc. to be of real service. That said, life is constantly a game of evaluating how much he wants something done right versus how much he doesn't want to do it himself. Usually, his laziness wins out, and he ends up yelling at some hapless member of his staff for ironing his pants so the crease is wrong. This further strengthens his notion that other people are hopeless, though it doesn't inspire him to pick up an iron himself.

That said, when Colwyn does make a friend, it's for life. Like the dogs he surrounds himself with, he's tenaciously loyal. Anyone who hasn't "made it" into his "group" is subject to betrayal, scorn, etc. He won't hesitate to give you up, share your most embarassing secret, or leave you hanging. If you're asking a favour and he's not getting something in return, you can forget it. He's more than willing to twist his story to turn you into the guilty party if the opportunity arises, and is overall a slimy weasel who manages to talk his way out of trouble by scooting the blame elsewhere. However, if you are tolerant enough to become friends with the guy, he'll be slightly less of a cad. This doesn't mean he'll suddenly do a Personality 180 – he and his friends were constantly getting each other into trouble in highschool – but you will notice yourself feeling surprised by him more and more often. He does have a strong sense of morals and responsibility, even if it is very twisted and usually hidden. (This also goes back to his dislike of "cheating" – he does believe in fair play, at least in the ideal, but you'll find his definition of this somewhat wider than most people's.)

Additionally, Colwyn likes to act like he's a brave, strong Lone Wolf type, but the truth is that he's definitely a group-oriented individual. He's quite the pack animal. He likes to feel like a cog in a wheel and be surrounded by a "posse." (And he prefers being one of the team than the leader, as well.) He can be quite unbearable and come across as a blithe dick, but he is quite social and gets attached easily to people in a team setting, whether it be sports or whatever. He begins to take the presence of his teammates for granted and they gain a special respect with him as part of his pack. He fully understands that the Sabazius Program is a team venture and would never do anything to (knowingly) endanger a teammate. He enjoys competing with his teammates, but only on the training field and it's all good-natured. He might make bets with other pilots or tease the other guys, but when it comes down to it he knows who he's fighting and he'll swiftly push any rivalries and sport aside for The Mission. This may be his one mature aspect. That said, however, he tends to take more risks than is necessary with himself and it wouldn't be at all surprising for him to leap into a situation he didn't assess first which led to a teammate being put in harm's way. You can bet he'd feel awful if anything happened, but if all turned out okay he'd flippantly blow off any reprimands and point out that everything worked out, so it's not a big deal.

Colwyn is, as this suggests, very immature. He has a child's mentality about a lot of things. He seems to think he's playing a game instead of participating in a war. This makes him impetuous, a risktaker who's been warned by his superiors on several occassions. He doesn't seem to realise (or care) that knocking down a building is not only causing lots of damage, but could actually hurt or kill people. He's a talented pilot (or he wouldn't be in the program), but it's obvious he doesn't take the program seriously. He's essentially doing this because it's fun. It's a freedom from responsibility as well – how else could you blow up a building and get away with it? He genuinely enjoys it, both the phsyical aspects and the sense of power and comraderie and status that go with being a Pilot. The dangers associated don't seem to phase him in the least – he signed the papers absolving Empire of any responsibility with an eyeroll and a flourish. At times it even seems he has no concept of what he's gotten into. He clearly sees this program as another notch in his belt, so to speak, and acts as though he can just yell for a "Time out!" if things stop going his way. He's both naive and childish in this regard. Additionally, it's sometimes questionnable whether he feels any sense of responsibility to this program or if he only shows up because he's having a good time. Responsibility is not his forte.

It's extremely lucky that Colwyn has been gifted with such obedient animals (see "Special abilities"), because he lacks both the patience and finesse necessary to train them. He would likely be completely at a loss with an animal that refused to do what it was told, and get very frustrated very quickly. He's much the same with people – he just sort of assumes everyone will agree with him and see him for the brilliant figure that he is, so if he encounters someone very opinionated who insists on arguing with him, correcting him, and generally calling his bluff, he gets quite flustered and is at a total loss as to what he should do. He's simply not used to people disagreeing with him or not getting his way. Having his word challenged is a foreign concept and is likely to send him into a spin. Similarly, Colwyn likes to act like he's quite the Casanova, a totally smooth operator, but he tends to stick to giggly young girls – interestingly enough, as soon as he gets near a mature, older woman, he completely clams up and gets incredibly flustered. He'll utterly lose his cool, start mumbling, and eventually have to excuse himself before he dies of embarassment. This is due entirely to his relationship with his mother – and the fact that he's simply not the sweet-talker he plays himself up as, and has no idea how to behave to make a girl actually like him. Still, this is something that may seem to cause him some distress but it leaves his head as soon as he's extricated himself from the situation. He doesn't sit around beating himself up – that's not his style. He'll respond to any teasing about it later with a shrug, perhaps some mild annoyance, and a quick change of subject. Colwyn, in general, is not one to bear grudges or worry about things that aren't immediately in front of him. He has a short memory and it's unusual to find of dwelling or moping or a past insult or injury.

Colwyn in a nutshell:
+ Immature, cocky, arrogant, spoiled braggart.
+ Doesn't take war seriously; impetuous, brash.
+ Is both a poor winner and poor loser – tends to gloat and whine obsessively.
+ Doesn't exactly cheat or lie, but skirts around them. "All's fair in love and war."
+ Group oriented; hates being ignored. Greatly enjoys parties and social events. Talkative.
+ Prefers action to ideas. Aggressive. Not very intellectual or introspective.
+ Thrill-seeking, risk-taking, naive, believes self invincible, enjoys the sense of danger.
+ Indifferent to the plights of others and notions of "saving the world."
+ Comfortable in most social situations, self-centered, oblivious.
+ Not punctual at all. Operates in his own timezone. Messy.
+ Believes in "an eye for an eye" and survival of the fittest.

HISTORY

Alroy Cúailbhe was a Lord in the times of the Five Kingdoms, and a rather prosperous one. He had served his king well in a war with their troublesome neighbour, Aristes, and proven his loyalty on enough occassions to have been richly rewarded when peace was at last declared. It was this loyalty, in fact, which was Cúailbhe's namesake – he led the defense of the fort of Ailbhe so tenaciously that he gained the name "the Hound of Ailbhe" in return for being such a good "watch dog." It was fitting, then, for the king to award him this fief along the eastern coastline as a "thank you." Subsequently, Old Alroy lived a rich and fulfilling life up until he died of a failed liver at the 'ripe old age' of 45. Fortunately, Alroy had been clever enough to insist on a "line of succession" clause in his will, so that his entire estate passed into the hands of his eldest son. This tradition continued through the following centuries, so that the Cúailbhe fortune remained at a relatively constant level; occassionally depleted by a particularly generous or indulgent heir, it would quickly level out again once the estate passed hands and good old inflation kicked in. Though the title of Lord eventually faded into disuse and the territory held by Clan Cúailbhe has slowly shrunk in size over the years to a mere "estate," the most recent heir, Sionnach, lives as luxuriously as his predecessors. So luxuriously, that is, that he was able to marry for a silly thing like love instead of a sensible thing like "money" or "title." At age 26, Sionnach wed a pretty but otherwise unnotable young lady by the name of Brigid Jory, whom he affectionately refers to as Bride. Bride was from a fairly unremarkable middle class family, but she settled in very easily to the lifestyle of the rich. She already knew needlepoint and other noble womanly pursuits, and Sionnach bought her a grand piano to practice her music on. Bride was a quiet and gentle woman, just the perfect balance for the loud and sometimes brash Sion. Unfortunately, she had always been a very frail woman, and birthing her first child proved troublesome. To Sionnach's eternal joy, both Bride and her baby made it, but the doctor warned that to risk the procedure twice would prove fatal. Both husband and wife agreed that one child was gift enough, and swore to shower the child – an infant with the same scarlet-red hair as his father who they dubbed Colwyn – with everything they could possibly bestow upon him.

It was unsurprising, then, that the child should grow up spoiled. Though Sionnach was hardly wanting for money, he was a restless man brimming with energy and unwilling to sit about the house counting his gold. He was particularly fond of the outdoors, a love he instilled in his young son, and would frequently leave on horseback with a small pack of friends and not be seen again for two weeks. He had a love of "adventure" in general and was full of stories about exciting trips out to sea and forays into the forests and mountains in northern Surres. When Colwyn was very small, his mother would accompany his father on many of his "vacations," but as time wore on she seemed to have less and less strength and enthusiasm for the trips. When she got home she would be exhausted, and took to spending a lot of time in her bed. When one of these "periods of rest" stretched into its third week, Sionnach insisted on calling the doctors. They declared that his wife, already known to be a frial woman, was suffering some mysterious illness or disease which was being exacerbated by the cold, wet, miserable climate of Surres. Her husband did note that she always seemed more spry on their summer holidays, and after much discussion he reluctantly agreed that his darling wife should head south for the nastier months, to avoid the depression of winter and subsequent flaring of her illness.

And so, when Colwyn was about six, his mother began disappearing for long stretches of time, generally starting in late October or November and returning with the coming of spring in March. She would usually make the long trek home for Christmas, but there were a few dismal years when, due to extremely inclement weather, Christmas came and went without her. Some years with particularly wet summers, she would disappear for a few additional months. Her husband was always unhappy without her – he would visit her as much as he could, but more often than not would make himself scarce, going on trips with his friends or holing himself up in his study. He considered moving the whole family south, but it wasn't in his heart to do so – despite his wife's apparent allergy to Surres, he himself was terribly fond of the place, and couldn't begin to imagine abandoning his ancestral home. Additionally, it seemed unfair to pull Colwyn out of school and confuse him by making him spend his life in two homes – and, Sionnach admitted, he wanted his boy to grow up knowing the same places he had. Colwyn, who was deemed too young and boisterous to make the long journey to his mother's winter home in Aristes, was never invited to visit her, mostly by his father's wishes.

I will now take a moment out of the explanation of Colwyn's family situation to discuss another event which had a strong impact on his development. When Colwyn was about 8 or 9, he was as usual exploring the family grounds, having snuck away from his (now near-panick) chaperone some time earlier. He had wandered quite far out, and came upon a small cave by a stream which intrigued him. Being a boy, and a rather headstrong and foolish one, he did the obvious thing and crawled right in. He crawled for only a couple minutes before he realised the light was disappearing quickly and began thinking he should turn back, but at just that moment some of the slick earth gave way beneath him and he found himself tumbling down a weathered, crumbling run before colliding rather unpleasantly with the hard, partially flooded floor of a small cavern. He was by this point quite terrified, obviously, and began shakily feeling around in the dark for the route by which he'd entered. It was pitch black save a thin shaft of light which he used to locate the tunnel and, even worse, as the hairs on the back of his neck prickled he came under the sudden and horrifying impression that something other than him was alive down there.

When what must have been a snake slithered over his hand he couldn't hold back a scream, which, luckily enough, finally alerted his frantic guardian to his rough location, but also had the unfortunate side effect of calling rather too much attention to himself. He suddenly realised that there was indeed something in this hideous cave, and before he could right himself enough to try to squeeze through the tunnel upwards, the thing was upon him. Understandably, he saw very little of this creature – a pair of bright yellow eyes in the darkness and the dim outline of a large, hulking shape were all he could make out. The thing just seemed to appear from the darkness, making a hideous hissing sound, and as pain seared across his face he clutched blindly at the ground for a weapon and began pelting the thing with rocks, screaming hysterically the entire time. Whatever the creature was, it seemed surprised that the intruder would dare fight back, and with a spitting growl it turned tail and vanished into the darkness. He sat in the dark shaking for some moments before scrambling to his "escape tunnel," but it was only with the guidance and assistance of his somewhat late rescuer that the shaking boy found his way to the surface once more. He was immediately bundled into a blanket and whisked back to the estate, his watcher terrified at the response his parents would have to their precious son ocming to harm. While the fairly impressive scratch on his face was evident that something had happened to him, the adults were understandably incredulous that a hulking creature had attacked him in the darkness. They postulated that he'd just scratched himself in the fall, and had been imagining monsters in the dark. The more Colwyn protested and described the "creature," the more amused his father seemed, until he finally joked that perhaps Colwyn had fallen into a badger's hole and that was his "mystery beast." That finally encouraged Colwyn to shut up, though the "badger" comments didn't trail off for quite some time.

Unbeknownst to Colwyn, this would set the mood for most of his formative years. A highly superstitious boy, he had been known in his early childhood to claim there was a ghost in the attic or a creature in his room, claims that were dismissed and distracted from by his understanding mother and amused his less tolerant father. Colwyn came to be something of a "boy who cried wolf," so it was unsurprising that his parents should immediately dismiss claims of an attack by some fantastic creature on their property. This will come into play later, as a teenager, but for now we return to the situation with Colwyn's parents.

As time went on, it seemed Bride's illness was worsening – she would flourish back to life in Aristes, and then wither almost the moment she set foot in her own home. Colwyn began to worry there was some sort of curse on the house, or even that he himself was the cause for his mother's illness. Even in the months when his mother was home, she was frequently absent, on trips with his father or resting herself in the safety of her room. He rarely saw either of his parents in his formative years – "family dinners" were rare and generally mediocre affairs, with his father grilling him about school and his latest activities and his mother saying very little. This was rather unfortunate, because young Colwyn loved his mother dearly, as all little boys should. He remembered all of the songs she sang to him as a child and yearned for a return to the attentions she once lavished on him. However, Colwyn, being a small boy and one who consistently made a mess of himself, was generally viewed by the family doctors as a mass of germs just waiting to inflict themselves on his mother's weakened immune system, and they strongly advises that the two not get too close or spend too much time in each other's company. Though his mother cared little for this advice, Colwyn – who had been listening in the door when it was prescribed – took it to heart and, already fearful it was in fact he who was causing his mother's bad health, avoided doing anything he thought might cause more harm. His mother interpreted his avoidance as a natural boy's desire to be independent and seperate himself from his "mommy," and it was with a heavy heart that she reluctantly complied with what she assumed were his wishes. As a result, mother and son spent very little time with each other, but every instance – especially if it included something as innocent as a hug – made Colwyn's heart swell.

He idolised his mother, this much was obvious – she was, in his eyes, a beautiful, untouchable goddess, best admired from a distance lest she be damaged by too much handling. Every time he saw her, his heart pounded. Eventually, the pressure of pleasing his mother in these short meetings began to give him something of a complex – he only had a few minutes, he reasoned, so he had to make them count. He began to get very nervous around her, feeling that he was bursting to throw his arms around her knees and tell her how much he loved her, but this was dreadfully inappropriate and more than likely dangerous. Though he was hardly old enough to realise it, he was starting to create a pillar for his mother, and eventually all women who reminded him of her, one that he could never reach the top of.

Of course, Colwyn's entire life didn't revolve around oedipally pining over his missing mother. The above should serve only as an illustration of the backdrop playing out behind the things which did concern most of his time – school, friends, hunting, camping, and getting into trouble, for the most part. As both of his parents were largely absent, he was a child raised by his staff – nannies, housemaids, and butlers all tried to raise him properly, but with little fear of serious retribution he grew into quite the wild child. He delighted in playing pranks, both at school and around the house, and more than one attempt by a distraught servant to "get him into trouble" was waived off by his otherwise preoccupied father. In such a way, Col grew up for most of his life as, in essence, a rotten, spoiled brat. While there were some instances of fatherly discipline being enacted, for the most part he had free reign over the house and grounds, and was quite the little terror. He grew up both with a sense of entitlement and a thrilling sense of being able to do anything he wanted – he was invincible. He could even do whatever he wanted in school, and up until his father threatened to take away all of his "hunting toys," he didn't even bother attempting his schoolwork. After that, he made minimal effort, and largely coasted through school sweet-talking his teachers and causing trouble with his troupe of equally rich and spoiled friends.

It was one such "mischief-making" incident which changed everything. He was 14 - just starting secondary school, just starting to size up his new teachers and see how much he could get away with. He and his friends came up with an idea - a beautiful idea, they thought, one that would guarantee them a place in the prankster's hall of fame. Unfortunately, things started to go wrong almost from the outset, and the incident ended with more than a few injuries, one quite serious. They were turning their indoor pool into a full-blown beach resort, complete with lounge chairs, a large (live) turtle (which had been obtained with some difficulty from a nearby zoo), and a rather large amount of sand. The trouble began in earnest when the youngest, Colin, volunteered to dive in to get the "wave machine" going. It was the middle of the night, the main lights were out for fear of being caught, and being late fall in Surres, the water was freezing. The machine's wiring proved faulty, and without even thinking the boys plugged the device in while Colin was still underwater messing with it. Instantly the water was electrified, and the machine began churning wildly, thrashing about the bottom of the pool with poor Colin caught in its cables. Colwyn scrambled to pull the plug while the others panicked at the poolside. No one knew what to do. Colwyn's best mate, Richie, found some roping and tied it around his waist, thrusting the end into the shaking hands of the other boys while he dove in to rescue Colin. When Richie emerged from the pool dragging a limp, breathless body, two of the boys completely lost it and took off. The remaining quickly determined who should try CPR, and after several heart-stopping minutes, he finally came to with a choked, wet cough. The boys were ecstatic, clapping him on the shoulder and laughing nervously, but this soon gave way to an argument about whether or not they should take him to a hospital. Colwyn was, for the record, of the opinion that since Colin now seemed fine, they should cut their losses and get the hell out of there and no one would be the wiser. Fortunately for Colin, this argument was cut short when police and emergency officials arrived a few minutes later – it seemed the boys who'd fleed had run to the first adults they saw and spilled the whole story. Colin was taken to the hospital and observed overnight – thanks to the temperature of the water and, oddly enough, the electric shock knocking him out, he suffered no permanent damage from the near-drowning, save some scarring from burns on his body where he'd been touching the metal of the wave machine. While the other boys were not formally arrested, they were taken to the police station and questioned before being released into their parents' custody, to undergo a disciplinary tribunal at the school several days later.

The damage was far worse than it had at first glance appeared: the combination of sand and swimming pools is never a good idea, and they had managed to completely destroy the pool's automatic filtration system. They also successfully blew out the power for an entire wing of the school, which required many fuses and much wiring being replaced, and many parents and wildlife activists were up in arms about their having inadvertently killed a very old and rather rare turtle (and one that didn't belong to them, at that). School officials were less than forgiving of the massive amount of damage inflicted, nevermind the reckless endangerment and disregard for their own safety exhibited by the act. In consideration of their long history of pranks (putting chocolate pudding mix into the school sprinklers and then pulling the fire alarm, releasing a dozen otters to live in the indoor pool, announcing war with Aristes had been declared on the school's PA system, etc), the school wisely decided to expel the lot of them. Many of the parents were outraged, immediately using their political and economic clout to get their children reinstated. Colwyn expected nothing less from his parents - so you can imagine his utter shock when he discovered that his father had no such intentions. Despite all amounts of sweet-talking, rationalization, attempted bribery, and pleading, Cúailbhe Senior put his foot down. His son was utterly out of control; he had no respect for anyone, was wasting his education, and despite his protests he had almost killed someone. Colwyn tried valiantly to defend himself – nothing bad actually happened to Colin, the damage could be paid for and fixed, he would try harder next time, and didn't his father have a sense of humour? Enraged at his son's flippant attitude, Sionnach passed down his final judgment – Colwyn was to be shipped off to the sternest of the Northern boarding schools, Dathyl Academy, effective immediately. Oh, but there was hell raised in that household. His mother begged, he pleaded, stomped, sulked, and cursed his father, but it was all to no avail, and he was packed up and sent to school with no ceremony in the middle of the term.

Dathyl had a reputation for being the closest you could get to military academy without involving drills or firearms. It also had a reputation for producing the finest, most refined, dignified young gentlemen in Surres. Its tuition was higher than that of many universities. At first, Colwyn was miserable, livid and sulky, but he quickly realised there were others of his kind at this new school and when the rules were so much stricter, it was so much more delightfully satisfying to break them. Though boarding school did teach him a fair amount of discipline and "straighten him out" a touch, it also had an unforseen side effect – he simply became sneakier and better at getting away with things. He became an expert at talking his way out of trouble and laying the blame on someone else, even as he shone as a model student and made himself every teacher's pet. He became, in essence, even more of an obsequious little shit than he had been. When he came home for the summer, however (his father had refused to allow him home for Christmas), his parents were surprised to encounter a much more subdued, politer, more dilligent boy. His father was thrilled with the change a mere year had made, and Colwyn stayed at Dathyl until graduation. This sentence is an Easter Egg - if you mention it to Kai, you will receive a fabulous prize. Yes, I am a sneaky GM.

Two things of consequence happened in these years. First, and far more importantly, it was discovered that Bride's mysterious illness was being exacerbated by a flowering plant which literally carpeted the estate – it's common name is "snakeweed." Upon hearing of this remarkable discovery, Sionnach immediately had every last trace of the plant within his domain destroyed. Within weeks Bride was looking and feeling much better, even leaving her bedroom for long stretches of time, and after a few months her illness seemed to have almost entirely vanished. She was still prone to illness and rather delicate, but the change was remarkable. She gave up her exoduses to Actavia, staying in Surres year-round for the first time since Colwyn's childhood. She desperately wanted Sionnach to pull Colwyn out of school and bring him home, but her husband refused, pointing out that boarding school was doing the boy a world of good and she'd still be able to see him over breaks, and it was only another couple years, anyway. Bride reluctantly consented, and was always waiting to greet Colwyn's carriage at the gates whenever he came home. They would ride the length of the drive together, moments which, to Colwyn, were little tastes of heaven. He was not quite the bumbling, shy, mute schoolboy he'd been in their previous meetings, but he was still very subdued, eager merely to spend time in his mother's presence and too awed to say much of anything. He'd tell her about school, listen to her tell him about her latest projects or some party his father had thrown or the latest elk head in his collection, and they'd ride the rest of the way in a warm, comfortable silence. Despite his perceived distance between them (to say she is on a pedastal is an understatement), Colwyn likes to think he has a very close relationship with his mother – though it's certainly not something he's likely to go bragging about. His relationship with his father was largely unchanged – they'd still go hunting together occassionally, and his father was proud of him, even if he didn't always have time for him. By and large Colwyn was left alone at home unless he actively sought out one of his parents, but post graduation he was quite happy to lounge around the house or spend all of his time out with friends. Seeking out his father meant seeking out a lecture about getting a job or becoming something in the world, which he was not particularly keen on hearing.

The other incident worth mentioning which occured before his graduation is relatively simple to report: He saw a dragon. He was 16, at home for the summer and had strayed quite far into the woods surrounding Caer Ailbhe. He was, as often happens in such tales, alone. He was just taking aim to shoot a particularly attractive pheasant when a cry of alarm was sounded in the bush and the bird took flight, followed almost instantly by, it seemed, every bird in the area. His anger quickly dissipated when he looked up over the trees to watch the departing fowl and a very large, very distinctive shadow passed over him – a dragon had flown right over his head. Though it caused a loud rush of wind to spring up, the beast itself made no sound, and was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Colwyn did attempt to follow it and determine where it had gone, but there was no trace of the creature. You can well imagine his family's reaction to the news, especially given his "history" of making up fantastic beasts. His friends were no less supportive – they knew his family's background (that the "enemy" of the Cúailbhe clan was supposed to be a serpent) and knew that he believed that was the root of his mother's mysterious illness ("Come on – snakeweed? Bit of a coincidence, don't you think?"), and were quick to dismiss him with laughter and a sardonic "You've got snakes on the brain, Cúailbhe." Colwyn was annoyed, understandably, that no one believed him, and was thrilled later that year to hear there had been a "documented" dragon sighting some distance from his home. He had hoped the news would prove to his friends and family that he'd been telling the truth, but this new piece of information was dismissed just as quickly – "Some other nutter like you, thinks he sees dragons. Maybe you could make a new chum, Cúailbhe!"

It's understandable, then, why Colwyn is part of the Sabazian Program. Though he didn't find out the program's goal until after joining, this largely fuels his enthusiasm for it. He'll get to prove that dragons are real, and he can't wait to see his father's face when he shows him the mounted head he plans to take home. How he was drafted into the program makes for a short story: After he graduated high school, he loafed around for over a year before his father managed to talk his mother into forcing him to go out and do something with his life. His father was eager for him to take an interest in politics, but that seemed dreadfully boring. He decided that he'd like to travel, and ended up taking a temporary position with a sort of game park in northern Aristes. In exchange for putting on falconry demonstrations and taking clueless Aristean businessmen out on hunting expeditions, he sort of apprenticed himself to the head ranger, an extremely experienced huntsman who took Colwyn to exotic game parks in the south during the slower months. It wasn't terribly exciting but it held his interest, particularly when he got to see some stuck-up 9-to-5 get bested by a particularly ornery stag. It was seasonal work, which suited him fine, and let him see a little more of the country to his south. At the end of one of these seasons some of his friends came down and they all headed to Lydda. It was Colwyn's first time in the city and he wasn't particularly impressed. What did interest him, however, were the large signs proclaiming a "Best Marksman" contest. It wasn't so much the considerable cash prize offered that interested him so much as the competition in and of itself; if there was one thing Colwyn loved, it was seeing other people lose. He talked his friends into giving up an afternoon of tourism to attend the contest with him.

Much to his surprise, it was a simulated shooting game, with no actual gunpowder or the like involved – just shooting at a screen with a plastic gun. Still, he entered and quickly made his way through the various rounds and challenges. It was no surprise to any of his buddies when he made it to the final "deathmatch," which was a sort of lasertag-esque game between the remaining contestants. Colwyn found it incredibly enjoyable, sneaking about obstacles and surprising his challengers with the skill of a natural predator. Not only did he win, but his scores were unbelievably high – not just in terms of marksmanship, but in the speed and proficiency with which he tracked and annihilated his foes in the final round. After the small awards ceremony (he wasn't too rich or noble to not pocket the prize money), he was approached by a tall, neatly-dressed man who introduced himself as a representative of Empire Corporation, headquartered here in Lydda. He explained that he was a recruiter of sorts, and had been observing the contest in the hopes of spotting someone for an experimental new program Empire was enacting. He seemed to know just what to say to catch Colwyn's interest – the phrases extremely selective, elite program, and other such flattering terms were used quite liberally, making Colwyn feel quite special for being selected. The mysterious executive was so persuasive, as a matter of fact, that Colwyn gave up even more of his vacation to visit their facilities the next day, even submitting himself to some sort of pre-screening and drug compatibility test. His friends returned to Surres without him while he stayed on for more tests. He didn't really understand what was going on but he was interested, and when he finally got to see one of the units he was to fly, his mind was made up instantly. That was just cool. He called home to say he was staying in Lydda until further notice, he'd found a new kind of training that made everything he'd done up to now seem like a joke, and he'd try to come home for Christmas if he could. He signed the papers with a flourish, smirking at any mentions of liability and sure and present danger, and the rest is, as they say, history.

Colwyn has been with Empire for about a year now, and though he's gotten into trouble on several occassions, he's a model pilot. He tends to be fairly lax about it, occassionally even daring to miss a practice or trial, but in general he's quite dedicated and practices both often and hard. The thrill has yet to wear off for him, and until it does you can rest assured he'll be clamouring for top marks with the rest of them.

PILOT INFORMATION

strength	••••
defense	•••
magic
magic resistance
dexterity	•••
evade	••
endurance	•••

Attire: In the cockpit, Colwyn wears the same sort of clothes he'd normally wear. Well, a bit more practical – he's sure to avoid loose or flowy fabrics, and prefers sturdy materials and heavyweight boots. He also tends to wear leather or suede gloves, thick workman's or outdoorsman's gloves to protect his hands. These, of course, usually have to be stowed and pulled on later, since he can't control his mech's touchscreen commands with heavy gloves on.

Weapon: Colwyn carries two weapons on him, though one is a "weapon of last resort." His primary weapon is a compound crossbow. The shaft is made of a special material invented by Empire called "bone-metal" – this makes it much lighter than steel, and infinitely more powerful than wood. The crossbow is armed with 20" steel-tipped bolts, and has a range of about 50 meters. The other weapon is an impressively decorated Sgian Dubh ("skeean dew"), literally "black dagger." Traditionally, these were concealed in the clothing and whipped out unexpectedly – hardly the trademark of a fair fight. Colwyn's is about 8" (210 mm) long, including a 4" blade, and has a black hilt and handle and red insets. (Reference.)

Other Equipment: Colwyn favours arm and shin braces, sturdy leather affairs to protect against blades and soften blows somewhat. He also often wears a sort of shoulder-piece which helps pad his right shoulder against the recoil of his crossbow. Beyond that, he has an assortment of simple tracking devices stowed away on his person, even though some may seem useless when he has his Sybazian – a compass, for instance.

Magic Abilities: Beyond his natural abilities as described below, Colwyn does not have an ounce of magic in him.

Fighting Style: Colwyn's fighting was primarily learned through actual lessons – boxing and wrestling in gym class and the like. Though he and his friends definitely scuffled and roughhoused, his fighting technique is not the loose, free-for-all style typical of street fighting. It's extremely regimented and form-based, and he likes to make it look easy. He's practiced enough that he manages to have a very graceful, controlled style, and is exceedingly good at exuding confidence. However, his cockiness can easily be used against him, and he tends to be a poor guard. He much prefers hand-to-hand combat to any type of swordfighting or whatnot, and gets a thrill getting right up in his combatant's face. (Do expect him to whine like a baby if you try to go for his face, however.) Despite the weak guard and the whining, he's quite good at taking hits and isn't particularly fussed about getting his hands dirty. He continually challenges people he knows to be above him, as he seems to think getting the crap beat out of him every so often will help him to improve. Overall, he's a fairly well-rounded fighter; his defense suffers more from arrogance and lack of attentiveness than actual weakness. If he could learn to shut up and pay attention, he would be a very capable fighter.

Strong Against: As mentioned, Colwyn is pretty handy in a physical fight. His defenses against mental attacks are around medium, as he's not exactly really strong-willed but isn't easily susceptible to them, either. He's very good against brash fighters like himself, and won't hesitate to charge in and try to lay the smack down. He's pretty good at taking a hit (even if he bitches about it a lot), and his endurance is pretty strong. It takes a lot to knock him out.

Weak against: Colwyn has absolutely no defenses against magical attacks. Even a weak one would have full effect on him. He can also be easily duped if one is quick enough to spot his overconfidence and go for a blind spot. Though he won't fall for any mental attack, ones which pander to his ego are sure to sway him.

Neuronol Compatibility: The primary reason for Colwyn's selection for use in this program is his remarkably high level of compatibility with neuronol and the Neuros system. He doesn't just show a high degree of tolerance for the drug; the drug seems to actually serve for him as a performance-booster. In particular, it triggers a rush of adrenaline which helps speed his reflexes and response time, and makes him more decisive and, quite plainly, viscious in the field. As a matter of fact, the effect was so profound that he now actually receives a slightly smaller injection than his peers to keep him "in check." Initially scientists were concerned that too large an adrenaline boost could prove harmful, and this seemed plausible given that he bordered on reckless under testing and exhibited a quickened heartbeat, dilated pupils, and shortness of breath. However, when scientists adjusted the levels of neuronol administered, Colwyn's performance spiked sharply and many of the negative effects - which were always viewed more as "hyper-compatibility" rather than "incompatibility" - dropped back down to more acceptable levels. Scientists feared using less of the drug would slow his training, but were surprised to discover he proceeded at a normal pace, and moreover his performance was consistently excellent. As such, his impetuousness and "hotheadedness" were given rather more leeway than they would have been afforded otherwise, and many of the scientists working with him are eager to see just how much their wonder drug can do.

As far as his performance now, Colwyn is remarkably fluid in commanding his mech, often flying circles around his instructors. His vitals have to be monitored closely, as his adrenaline climbs as soon as he receives his injection and any spikes could correlate with more reckless behaviour. While this would come in handy in a war situation (where he would just be sent out to kill as many enemies as possible), it demands slightly more control and finesse in a situation such as this one, and Colwyn has been reprimanded more than once for taking things too far or endangering himself, his machine, or others unnecessarily. As he frequently claims in other arenas of life, however, "All's well that ends well," and Empire tends to overlook "insignifiant" flaws in light of his otherwise excellent record.

Special Abilities

Animal Empathy: As I'm sure you may have noticed, animals show up quite a bit in Colwyn's profile. Why? Because, despite the fact that Colwyn is an irresponsible prat with little regard for life beyond his own, he has an unusual affinity with animals. No, he can't talk to them or anything even close, but certain critters – in general predators more than prey – seem unusually attentive to him. This doesn't mean that a rabid wolf will become tame under his hand or that he can command armies of wild pidgeons or something, but his pets are unusually obedient and he seems to have great "luck" even with animals that are strangers to him. He's very fond of recounting a story about getting thrown when his horse panicked at the sight of a grizzly bear, and then watching as the bear came towards him – and suddenly, he says, became as tame as a kitten, giving him an inquisitive sniff before turning and ambling away. (He begrudgingly offered it the same courtesy in return, neglecting to shoot it when he stumbled upon the same bear several days later in a clearing.) Though this ability is usually strongest with other "hunters" (especially his own pack of dogs), Colwyn's also unusually close to his horse, Fróech, who is, as his father puts it, "the most temperamental, wicked beast I've ever laid eyes on," but who becomes "sweet as a lamb" as soon as his owner appears. Colwyn's boasted in the past that this 'ability' stems from the fact that he doesn't "muck about" with animals and pretend like they're little furry people – he's a firm believer in the "food chain" and "survival of the fittest" and says the animals recognise a "kindred spirit." He thinks because he acts like top dog, the animals respect this and do as they're told (as opposed to people who pamper their pets and then are shocked to find Fido is taking advantage of their hospitality). Whether or not this is true is anyone's guess, but few can deny he does have a "way" with beasts.

Tracking: Relatedly, Colwyn has remarkable talent when it comes to tracking, both humans and animals. Anything that leaves a trail can be found, according to him. He's had years of practice, and due to his already very keen observation skills, he's quite adept at noticing subtle signs and interpreting things 'left behind,' as it were. His tracking abilities seem to go above and beyond those of an experienced tracker, and he has at times astounded even his father with his talent. He seems to have a knack for stumbling over the subtlest of clues, which he then interprets with apparent ease. He is always confident in his findings, striding boldly in the chosen direction without an ounce of hesitation. Second-guessing himself is not something you would find him doing often. This "tracking ability" can be used for simple things, like finding a foxhole, or for staggeringly complex things, like discovering where a person is hiding in a busy city. Essentially, this is at its most basic "good detective work," making Colwyn a completely unlikely and rather stupider-than-would-be-expected Sherlock Holmes. (Note that there have to be some signs, even if they're practically invisible, for Colwyn to be of any use. There's not much he can do for someone who's disappeared without any trace, though he may be able to make helpful inferences about where they might have gone.)

SABAZIAN

Model: Sybaris.

Name Meaning: First off, Sybaris is a Greek city well known for luxury almost to a hedonistic level. Secondly, Sybaris was the name of a famous she-dragon who demanded young male virgins – an interesting twist on the usual story, and probably highly amusing to the designers. (Dragon reference: here and here.)

Description: Sybaris is a fairly standard-looking Sybazian, modeled after your most traditional of dragons. She has four shortish, squat legs, a long neck and tail, and large bat-like wings. The tip of her tail ends in a "devil's prong." Initially the designers had wanted to paint her bright red, but after some debate a compromise was reached. She's now mostly black, with a white underbelly (easier to camouflage in flight) and red and white markings, including a black-and-red face with white ears. (One of the designers insisted on this detail. No one was quite sure why.) As one of the engineers put it, she's still as "loud and obnoxious" as her pilot. Her cockpit sits just between her shoulder blades, with the pilot seated almost in her chest cavity, so that he's in the same position as a fighter-pilot during flight. She's of medium weight – some attempt has obviously been made to keep her on the lighter side, but she needed to be sturdy enough to carry all of her equipment (see below).

Abilities

Maneuverability: Excellent. Sybaris is extremely easy to handle, highly responsive to Colwyn's commands, and extremely useful in the air. She seems to be able to turn on a dime. She lands lightly – landing is one of Col's specialties – and moves quite naturally, almost resembling a real dragon. The engineers have definitely outdone themselves in terms of the fluidity of her movements.

Agility/Speed: Average. She's not the zippiest of mechs, but hardly slow. She was built for long-distance flight at maintained speeds, but she can "dart" to an extent, though this quickly eats up fuel. Her maneuverability certainly enhances her agility somewhat, but while she moves gracefully, she was not really designed for darting about from place to place.

Terrain: Air, ground. She's more graceful in the air, but is still fairly functional on the ground. Her speed slows considerably, however, and combat becomes more difficult – it's generally easier for her to stay in one place on land if there's fighting going on, or take to the sky as quickly as possible. She is capable of advanced movements on the ground, but operating her legs in addition to hydraulics and weapons just guzzles fuel, so Colwyn has learned not to push her. (She has collapsed a few times in simulations because he overdid it and wasn't watching the fuel gauge closely enough.)

Weapons: Sybaris has a fairly thourough weaponry system, but her equipment was designed to bring down and hopefully capture a dragon, not kill it. As such, Sybaris' weapons system is largely nonlethal. To begin with, below the mech's belly on either side are twin torpedo cannons. Each of these shoot out not a torpedo but what appears to be an odd, lightweight missile. The "missile" bursts open upon contact, triggering the release of a very large, very durable silver net. These nets were designed to be very strong, as it is assumed a dragon could break through mere rope quite easily. Sybaris' mouth holds two surprises, though neither are deadly: one, a highly advanced mounted dartgun, loaded with tranquilizer darts capable of knocking out a whale (though the pilot can specify the dosage before firing). The gun is generally accurate to a degree of 100 meters, but is susceptible to winds and other uncontrollable variables. Generally enough darts are stored to account for misses and errors. The other is a simple and rarely used device – a thin pipeline for the emission of a noxious gas which causes unconsciousness and, in smaller animals, temporary paralysis. The gas is designed with a dragon in mind and is not meant to be used on humans – there's a large risk with such a strong substance that a human could go into respiratory shock or heart failure and die, as the paralytic effects of the toxin can be quite strong on anything weighing less than several hundred pounds. This gas was not designed to be used at any range, and is only helpful if the mech is in close contact with its quarry – generally, in a situation with no wind, the intended victim's face would have to be within about a 2 meter radius for the gas to be at all effective. Though this gas has obviously never been tested on humans, it has shown great success in laboratory testing for temporarily sedating elephants, rhinos, and the like. Empire Corporation scientists are confident the gas will have a similar effect on dragons.

Additionally, flanking the torpedo nets on each of Sybaris' sides are mounted shafts which trigger the release of what could only be fairly called a harpoon - a long, barbed steel shaft, weighted to ensure its range is both long and reasonably accurate. Of course, like any projectile, these are also highly susceptible to environmental influences, and as such are not remarkably dependable. The harpoons are strong enough to pierce dragon hide (the inventors hope), but are not designed to kill. To a large dragon, they'd have the same effect as someone stabbing you with a toothpick - unpleasant, but hardly lethal. To a smaller dragon, the effect might be closer to a darning or knitting needle - considerably more damage (and more pain), but unless the shot is a particularly lucky one, also survivable.

Defense: Average. While she does have some defense systems and she is reinforced, she was built to be on the lighter side and really can't stand up to heavy hits. She relies more on her pilot to get her (and keep her) out of harm's way.

Compatibility: Excellent. As mentioned, Colwyn's Neuronol compatibility is exceedingly high, and it shows in his performance with his mech. He has not had any problems controlling her since the completion of her primary programming, and she moves like an extension of his own body.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

Hometown

The name Mortremar is a "modernized" spelling of Mortrefmawr, an old name for the town which literally means "big sea town." This is a fair description of the place, as it is literally just that. Mortremar is a smaller-sized city of about 200,000 inhabitants which lies just on Surres' eastern coast. The town is best known for its large port and also its very old architecture. Almost the entire city is constructed out of granite, and some areas still retain their original cobblestone streets. The mix of older buildings and a city atmosphere with the frequent seagulls sighted overhead and the sea air are delightful to tourists and Montremar boasts a fairly strong economy for its size. Fishing is, of course, its largest industry. The people lack the coldness associated with "city folk" and Montremar is an extremely popular vacation spot, despite its rainy summers and cold winters. The center of the city is taken up by a large gothic kirk (church) complete with spire and a gated-in cemetery which amuses each wave of schoolchildren to no end. Other architectural highlights include the theater, courthouse, and college – all in granite, of course.

You can read more about Colwyn's "hometown" here.

Family Background

As mentioned, the "original" Cúailbhe was Alroy Cúailbhe, who lived several centuries prior to the end of the Five Kingdoms era. As such, the Cúailbhes claim roots and "ancestral" territory that can be traced back some 1500 years. The Cúailbhe line has produced a number of significant persons, old Lords and knights from ages past, but due to the constant and rigid adherence to old Alroy's dying wish – that his title and wealth be passed entirely to the eldest son – the line has managed to stay fairly straight. As a matter of fact, because of this decree, many Lords chose to have only one son, or rather only one with their wives (illegitimate children were drearily common) rather than have multiple sons only to toss them out on their ears later. Colwyn currently represents about the 60th generation of Cúailbhe through direct lineage (though rest assured they have books in the library which could give you the precise number).

The Cúailbhes are known for their red hair and tenacious loyalty – the family motto is "fidelis semper" (Ever loyal). The family crest shows a hound and snake locked in combat – it has long been thought the "mortal enemy" of the Cúailbhes was a serpent. It's rumoured that, as the Lords of the area, the family had some trouble with dragons back in the day, and there's even a family legend about one of Colwyn's ancestors doing battle with a dragon that was ravaging the countryside surrounding the estate. Snakes are thought to bring bad luck for family members. It's also worth noting that there are quite a few "family legends" and superstitions, which have been taken in various levels of seriousness throughout the generations.

Pets

Though Colwyn's not at all responsible enough to own a pet and tends to view most 'useless' animals (like cats) as merely things that exist for his entertainment, he's had his share of pets. After the first few rounds of dead hamsters, his staff caught on to the fact that he wasn't going to learn any responsibility through them and ever since he was small, his various critters have been attended to entirely by his family's servants. Currently, since he's away from home, his pets are "limited" to his pack of hunting dogs (five hounds of various breeds – all purebreeds, of course), his horse, Fróech, and a bright red salamander named Fergus. He's also in possession of a rather unusual bird, Shelgeyr.

Fróech (FROIkh – the end is the same ch as in "loch") is a bay Hunter-Jumper gelding, the latest in Colwyn's line of hunting steeds. Fróech is, as a rule, extremely bad tempered and difficult to ride. Even as a foal he was quite viscous, biting and kicking his handlers and causing a ruckus. He was the result of an accidental and rather unfortunate mating between a purebred mare and rather poorly tamed and poorly bred stallion who was sharing a stables with her for just one night. The breeders hoped to sell the foal by making a fuss over his mother's excellent temperament and breeding, but when the horse clearly began taking after his father they thought all there was for it was to put an end to his (and their) misery. Fortunately (though Colwyn's father would never phrase it as such), Colwyn got wind of an "unbreakable" young gelding at a neighbouring farm and saved Fróech from winding up as part of an elementary school project. Though the horse has certainly mellowed as he aged, he's still quite unfriendly and even gave Cúailbhe Senior an unexpected ducking (after which Colwyn had to talk faster than he ever had in his life to prevent Sionnach from eliminating the horse on the spot). For those who don't know anything about horse colourings, Fróech is a solid dark brown, with black legs below the knee and black mane and tail. (You can see Google Image Search results for "bay hunter-jumper" by clicking here.)

Shelgeyr (shayl-GEHR, though the geyr almost takes two syllables) is a shirragh-doan. Since this likely doesn't help, allow me to describe: A shirragh-doan (literally "dark bird of prey") is a large, dark brown or black bird which is used for hunting much in the same way falcons are. They're not exceptionally common, though they're hardly rare in Surres, and are generally unpopular due to their looks and the difficulty training them. They have longish necks and hunched shoulders, looking rather like a cross between a buzzard and a vulture, but thankfully with a full head of dark feathers. They have short, sharp beaks like falcons and round, red-brown eyes. Though they're extremely talented predators, able to take down relatively large prey, they're more well-known and disliked for their scavenging practices. The average body length for a shirragh-doan is around 15-20", with a wingspan between 40" and 60". That's a five foot wingspan in the larger birds - these are quite difficult to work with, as you can well imagine. Shelgeyr (the name means "hunter") is, being female, on the smaller end of the scale, with a wingspan of about 4'. Like the rest of her kind, she can be aggressive and snap when irritable, but she's unusually placid for a shirragh-down and extremely responsive to Colwyn's commands. Luckily, shirragh-doans are mostly wild and difficult to care for, so it's generally recommended to allow your bird to hunt for itself rather than try to take care of it yourself. This is fortunate because it means Shelgeyr is a very low-maintenance pet and one that Colwyn can't easily kill. He brings her mice and the occassional rabbit as treats, but for the most part she lives outdoors. She's the only animal he's taken with him from home, and though he's hardly dumb enough to go walking into the city with her he does enjoy having her around when they're out in the middle of nowhere.