Art by Mink-Cloverhill

Roleplay: Open
Open for rut:   Open in Season - Plot dependent    
Plotting?: Open

Basic Information

Name: Lord Blackwood

Informal Name: Henry

Gender: Male - Stag
Age: 9 years old (Year 769)
Height: 11.2 hh (Predicted)
Build: Medium
Phenotype:  Melanisic Classic Champagne Part. Restricted Classic Fawn (Mushroom, Lilac, Pearl, Watermarked, and Smoky Fawn carrier)
Genotype: Ee^M/aa/nM/Chch^L/nprl/Wawa/fwfw^s/nrz
Eye Color: Emerald Green

Mane type: Manly/ Lion like mane

Sire: Lord Rotheram NPC- Alive || Melanistic Black Lilac Part. Restricted Watermarked Smoky Fawn:: EE/aa/MM/nch^L/fwfw^s/wawa/nrz
Dam: Lady Natari NPC- Alive || Wild Amber Champange Pearl Classic Fawn:: ee/A⁺a/nCh/prlprl/fwfw^s
Bloodline: 100% Glenmore

                      ╭——— Lord Brádach
             ╭——— Lord Rotheram
                          ╰——— Princess Enni
Lord Blackwood (Y.769)
                          ╭——— Duke Amaro  
             ╰——— Lady Natari  
                          ╰——— Lady Elenor

- None

- Princess Augusta (paternal Aunt)

None

Herd Information

Herd: Glenmore

Herd Position: Questionable Lord
Mate/Love interest: None
Current Location: The Royal Glades


Details

Speaking Voice: Mark Strong

Blackwood has always been a very charming, polite and handsome lord from afar. With a smile that could melt glaciers and a deep rumbling voice he has been known to sweep plenty of does off their hooves in a fit of giggles and leave them blushing. However, spend more than a few minutes around the Lord and the more something begins to feel....unnerved. Something about the gleam in his eye tends to grow colder and more hungry as time goes by. Most of his glade staff almost seem fearful to talk about him at length and secrets? They are his favored cologne. Most, after learning his name, are turned off by wanting to spend any time with him since his very name is that of the enemy.

Having watched the politics of Glenmore from a distance for most of his childhood, Blackwood has seen manipulation first hand and adapted to it uncomfortably well. He loves to play the political games of Glenmore and out of all of his games his favorite is that of a rumor starter. Starting verbal fires and following the ashy tendrils they leave allows the stag to narrow down who the gossipers are and what sort of rumors attract particular fawns.

The most overwhelming and controlling emotion in Blackwoods life is his thirst for revenge. He feels that he lost so much of his childhood and more importantly, his mother made a pointless sacrifice all in his sires name. Fueled by his passion to make the stags remaining days alive a living hell, he often neglects caring for himself if he sees a chance to strike. This anger spills over to anyone he feels could or may betray him and has yet to find a limit.

Neat and tidy, his lordship is nothing but a respectable lord in the public eye. Coat clean and well groomed, he shines when the light hits him just right which accents the faint spots along his rear flank.

With glistening green eyes that remind some of the new spring leaves (and others of a serpent) he has a well rehearsed smile that is beyond charming from a distance. Long term exposure is said to leave fawnlings feeling unnerved.

During the fall and winter Blackwood sports a branching spire of tines. He would never admit to it but he often sharpens the points of his antlers on rocks and tougher trees. He always denies such claims as it would be wildly unsportsmanlike like but his glade staff would confirm the notion if pressured enough.

Rotheram was a young and up in coming lord with nothing to loose and the world a this hooves. He had everything to gain as he left home and soon found himself in the company of many does. With a growing harem and reputation within the herd itself there was only one thing missing from his life...children.

While he tried for several ruts to have fawns his does never seemed to fall pregnant. Fearing the worst he turned to prayer and in doing so fell into a cult like group with several other Lords. Believing in the power of the gods and several less...approved practices, Lord Rotheram began doing everything he could to bless his life with children.

While communing with fellow lords, Rotheram caught the eye of a young doe named Lady Natari. She frequented the cults ceremonies as a sort of priestess and did whatever the lords asked her to do from grooming the grounds to bringing them fruits to eat. Low born from a Duke, she found that the lords beliefs spoke to her and thus swore her own life and loyalty to it.

While she was fancied by many of the lords, despite her blood, Rotheram would be the one to win her over. During one of their many ceremonies, Rotheram bred with the doe, not thinking much of it as it was all in the name of ceremony.

It wasn't until late in the winter, when Rotheram was proudly boasting that ALL his does were pregnant, that he found out that Lady Natari was in fawn. Outside of the cult the two had no connections. Her own family didn't even know they knew one another and that was how Rotheram wanted to keep it. He knew what the rest of the herd would think if they learned of his...hobby. Exile...or worse yet Taint would await him for believing anything other than what the old legends told after all. Not to mention the disgrace he would feel for covering a doe outside his harem.

Sure most stages would HAPPILY boast about such luck but over the years of failed pregnancies Rotheram had formed close bonds with his harem does. Loyal and kind, he wasn't sure how they would react to hear he had been with another outside their family. He feared they would leave and take all his potential heirs with them and thus, the affair was covered up. Rotheram went to great lengths to keep Natari away from his glade and hardly glanced her way when they attended cult meetings.

When spring rolled around, he heard only rumors that a colt had been born to Natari. To no surprise, one of the lesser lords who attended the cult was happy to claim the colt as his own but Roth care not. He cared waited anxiously for his own does to bare their fawns and felt certain his devotion would grant him sons. To his...slight disappointment, all his does had fillies. While he finally had the family he had hoped for, none of his ladies had given him a proper heir. Realizing that the colt born to Natari could very well be his only heir, he approached her to talk about finding out a way to integrate him as the trees turned red in the fall. To his shock, he was met with surprising news.

Natari had died giving birth to the colt back in the spring and due to his arrogance he hadn't found out until that moment. He had been so determined to ignore her during the cult meetings he had completely missed her absence. When he arrived at her familial glade he was met with opposition. The colt had been taken in by his grandmother and Duke Grandfather who refused to give him up and felt confident they could fend off Roth as they had kept the other lord from taking the boy under his wing.

However Rotheram had leverage, both his much larger size and more well received name. He had more to offer, a potential title and he was the colts father after all. With a lot of yelling and some small threats of physical violence he eventually left the glade with the colt who looked at him like a stranger.

Rotheram told his harem the colt had been orphaned by a friend and they happily accepted him into the family without much thought. Many of the does suspected the colt, named Henry by Rotheram, was in fact his but none spoke out against him. It wasn't like the little fella asked to be born and holding anger towards him was the definition of unfair.

Dispite being taken in by his father, Henry was NOT given a title like he was promised. Hoping that his harem would give him a son the stag kept the colt hidden. He worked in the glade as a supposed messenger to his sire, often going out with some sort of floral disguise in the hopes that few would notice him. The one thing that Rotheram did allow the boy to attend and regularly however, were the cult meetings. Many of the 'brothers' believed the boy to be a potential prodigy since he had been conceived during a ceremony. At the meetings Henry was treated like an actual royal and doted on by the lords and ladies alike. He thrived on the attention, rubbing it in his sires face who many of the members soon soured towards due to his harsh treatment of the boy. How could he not accept the boy publicly!? He was clearly special! A gift from their old gods!

However as the years passed, Rotheram's does failed to produce anymore fawns. Despite prayer and many more ceremonies Rotheram was never again blessed, a sign many took as punishment for his cruelty towards Henry.

When his sires does began to age and he knew his chances of an heir had ended, Rotheram was left with the son he had ignored for most of his young adult life. With resentment he finally accepted Henry and after having him properly groomed took him out into the herd for the first time. He told his royal friends that his son had been in training, kidding them about how they could have missed him after all these years when he has SO clearly been there. Many squinted at the young buck they could strangely remember but not as Rotherams son. Suspicions arose but didn't linger as the boy fit the roll and Rotheram was so insistent on the matter.

Regretfully, Rotheram didn't introduce him by name. Seething with malice young Henry kept his tongue seethed through introduction after introduction until he was finally addressed. When he was, the questioning lord hummed.

"And who are you, Son of Lord Rotheram?"

The colt responded with numbness in his eyes.

"Oh me? I'm Lord Blackwood."

The shock and horror that spread around the circle was immediate and crippling. Blackwood looked to his sire, watching with glee as his friends turned on him. Why wold he name his son something so cruel!? So dark? It was outrageous! Unheard of!!

Blackwood took to the name with pride, playing up his distasteful name as just another challenge that he was more than capable to taking on. It not only won him sympathy from those upon his first meeting but continued to punish his sire day by day. It wasn't his fault he was named something so horrible after all...right?

Experience: 0

Breakdown

+2 speed - base bonus
+4 stamina - base bonus
+4 strength - base bonus
+11 strength - starter bonus

Other Images:

None

*This is being updated daily XD*

769 of the New age: Newborn
Spring: Henry is born. His mother only survives for a few hours after having him and passes away due to internal bleeding.

Summer: Coming soon

Fall: Roth arrives to 'collect' his son but is surprised to find out that Natari is dead. He takes the colt with him after some fighting with his grandparents.

- As Henry settles into his new home, he soon realizes all the pomp and frills promised by his sire were lies. He's made into a glade servant and not permitted to leave without express permission from his father.

Winter: Coming soon...

previous thoughts
Lady Natari; Deceased; Mother;  [||||]
"Your memory is but a dream for me...the warmth of your touch, the whisper of your love...I may not remember you well but I will always remember you."

Lord Rotheram; Glenmore Royal; Father; [||||]

"Your cruelty and hatred towards my mere existence will come back to haunt you old man. One day I will be given the pleasure of looking down upon your corpse to smile."

Lady Elenor; Glenmore Royal; Maternal Grandmother;  [||||]
"You're the only connection I have left to my mother...please forgive me for what must be done to avenge her memory.."