Full Name: Gwenevra Minerva Beachwood
AKA: Gwen, Evra, Gwendolyn Starfall, or, by her LARPing enemies, Dolly
Age: 11
Date of Birth: July 19 2002
Height: 5’ 6”
Weight: 106 pounds
Eyes: Jade Green
Hair: Dark Brown
Body type: Normal
Typical outfit: Jacket, Jeans, Sweater/Shirt
Skin color: Slightly Tan
Country of Origin: Austria
Gwenevra was thrilled to find there was real celestial bronze armor and weapons that matched that of her character Gwendolyn’s.
Armor (optional): Gwendolyn sports celestial-themed delicate looking armor.
Pet(s) (optional):
Personality; Sweet, kind, caring
Mythology: Greek
Mortal parent: Mortimer Beachwood
Godly parent: Tyche
Flaws: Solitary, sad, has an overly active imagination, protective, emotionally weak
Powers (optional): She can cause a person to be uncannily lucky for five minutes. She can use it twice a month, so she has to be smart about it.
Weapon(s) (optional): Gwendolyn has an 18-Inch-long sword which she uses in fights.
History; Gwen Beachwood was born in Vienna in the year 2002 around midsummer. She grew up in a town near her birthplace. She spent most of her time drawing pictures to accompany her writing. Her notebooks were full of mystical creatures and fairy princesses. She knew a few people who also wrote and drew about the. Mystical and magical land of Aramanta. The few of them made up a sort of Roleplaying game, a sort of “LARP in the Park” thing. Some of her ‘friends’ took the roles of the main characters in their stories but Gwen reserved a special character for their games. Gwendolyn Starfall is a more outgoing, bold, version of Gwenevra she wished she could be. During one of her LARP group meetups Gwen got separated from the rest of them. A satyr found her and took her to CHB.
Roleplaying example (only for first form but La Luna don’t care): I wish to smile, but I keep a straight and serious look on my face. In Moansburrow Park I wasn’t Gwenevra Minerva Beachwood; who the heck is she? I am Gwendolyn Starfall, Princess and rightful heir to the throne of Hoaryhall. I cross over an arch bridge with a certain gracefulness that exceeds normal expectations. The parabolic shape of the arch of the bridge is mirrored by my hairline, the long, dragging train of my dress and cape, and the neckline of my dress. I brush a stray strand of braided deep brown hair away from my eyes, which were made up rather severely with silver and gold mascara and deep blue eyeshadow. True, I was graceful; but not only that. I was Gwendolyn: a swindling scoundrel, a rebellious royal. A young man, in a cloak of red orange cloth, crosses from the other side.
“Princess Gwendolyn of Hoaryhall, you have been charged with theft, arson, and treason. The outcomes have been weighed and carefully evaluated. You are hereby sentenced to death.” He says, drawing his sword. “Last words, Princess?”
“Indeed.” I say, swiftly drawing mine. “You can’t kill me if you can’t catch me.” I say, and lunge for him. He blocks and tries to get me. The rest of the LARP crew and I engage in an evenly matched sword fight, me versus two other ‘guards’. Man, this was fun.
Notes;
Wed Feb 05, 2014 4:56 am
