#deirdre caerbannog gutraidh

[cerastes]

Assorted OC portraits. All drawn by Lydiawilli.

Tabitha, Midboss-For-Hire / Deirdre "Caerbannog" Gutraidh Kaleis Lakatos, Ex-Pardoner / "Lisbeth Elstad" the Napalm Witch Istesa, Lady of the Lake, "Interesting Times"

#tiza #tabitha #deirdre caerbannog gutraidh #kaleis lakatos #lisbeth elstad #istesa #dreamercommissions

[cerastes]

Though repeatedly told not to bite opponents in gladiatorial fights, Deirdre never listens. It’s worked so far, but what if she damages her teeth? Thorough post-match inspections are a must.

(Deirdre belongs to me, art by Oreven)

#teef #ivarea #deirdre caerbannog gutraidh

[cerastes]

“Deirdre’s a bit hard to comprehend if you don’t know her. For example, If she tells you something to the effect of ‘I’ll make your blood flow’, that’s good news.”

“...How is it good news that one of the top ranked state-sponsored Gladiators just said she’ll make your blood flow?”

“It’s because she means your literal blood flow, your circulation. Dee wishes to be a master masseur one day. She’s gonna give you a massage, and to be honest? She’s pretty damn good at those. Now, on the other hand, if she promises you ‘plentiful rest’--”

“Oh, that’s when she’s going to disembowel you?”

“That’s when she’s going to disembowel you.”

-- A conversation between a certain visiting Archbishop and a new intern, regarding Deirdre.

Deirdre “Caerbannog” Gutraidh, drawn by the talented Yoko (@Yoko_Yukine04). As a state-sponsored Gladiator, her ring name is “Caerbannog”, but outside the arena, when not fully kitted out in that tough, identity obscuring armor and helmet, she’s just Deirdre Gutraidh, aspiring masseur (or massage artist), usually seen dressed as a janitor around the Holy Gladiatorial Grounds doing this and that, as part of her mandated disguise. It is only during nighttime, when the sea of neon drowns out the stars and the bustling night crowd keeps the blood of commerce and high-stakes leisure pumping in the entertainment districts that Deirdre is allowed some much needed me-time, usually hitting a quiet little bar on the outskirts and drinking the night away while chatting with drinking buddies of hers, a most stalwart group comprised of other bar regulars, or sometimes, if schedules align, her only close friend, a certain Archbishop (who takes proper precautions to not be recognized in the wild in a dinky little bar, of course).

This whole “life” thing would be pretty easy if she didn’t think about it too much: Fight whoever she’s told to fight, make sure to read the fine print that sometimes says “kill him, make it look accidental, we’ll handle the media as usual” or “drop the fight 6 minutes in, make her look good”, and then do as she’s told. It’d be oh so easy to just follow the instructions that her boss and adoptive father, owner of the state-sponsored “Sun Eater Gladiator Club”, lays out for her. Sometimes, someone the state doesn’t like is being a bit too successful, and the brass on top of nation calls in a favor with an attached paycheck to the old goat, and he’d be remiss to deny his old buddies in the Cathedral of the Firmament their satisfaction, so sometimes, someone’s gotta go, and likewise, sometimes the Cathedral goons have put a lot of money behind a certain someone and want to make them big, so chop chop, get making them look good, old goat, and old goat always says yes. What’s a win or a loss, anyways, when no matter what, as long as you do as you’re told, you’ll always have a roof above your head and an easy, leisurely life ahead of you?

Well, if you ask Deirdre, that’s hell. 

The Kingdom of Stars, Attorhia, has many a legend, many a myth, a cultured seeped in folklore. For the school she was attending, it was just an end-of-the-year stage play, a sundry affair, a bothersome tradition, even, but for Deirdre, it became a lifelong inspiration and aspiration: The Pilgrimbreaker.

The story is a staple in Attorhia, about the famous folk hero, the eponymous Pilgrimbreaker, a knight from long ago that fought tirelessly against corruption, her climatic showdown against the entire Gashdyre Cult, her sworn enemies, being the stuff of legends: For 72 hours, she fought against the entirety of the Cult. The Cult congregated every single member it had and went after her at the same time. For anyone but the Pilgrimbreaker, this would’ve been a lynching... Oh, but they failed to realize that all they did was save her the trouble of finding them! 24 hours in, her greatsword dulled out. 48 hours in, she couldn’t feel her muscles. 72 hours in, her senses had given out and she was running on pure instinct, swinging the heavy, dull sword and never missing her mark. The story ends with the Pilgrimbreaker courageously declaring that so long as the selfish desires of the corrupt threatened the honest man and woman of Attorhia, she’d forever keep fighting. This is the story that Deirdre idolized. This is who, what, she wanted to be.

Ah, how mighty can folklore be, to shape the worldview of aspiring do-gooders and children around the world! But Attorhia is less a Kingdom and more a series of cogs nowadays, and the engine that keeps it grinding and turning is capital. Though Deirdre was excited to become a Gladiator in her adoptive father’s Club, as the Pilgrimbreaker herself was a Gladiator in the early verses of her story, she was convinced she’d be paving the way to a better tomorrow, that she’d be honoring the esteemed high officials of the Cathedral, that she’d uphold the values of knighthood and the greater good. The more she fought, the more she was given strange orders such as kill here and lose on purpose here, the more Deirdre came to realize that Gladiatorial Combat was just a stage for political power plays and a boiling pot of ad revenue: “Caerbannog scores yet another crushing victory! Did you know? It is said the mysterious fighter’s chains and hooks were supplied to her by Kizna Heavy Industries, the premier weapons and armor manufacturer! Kizna Heavy Industries, carving the way to an auspicious tomorrow! Check out our catalog at www.kiznaheavy...” This was something she was far too used to by now. And yet, part of her wanted to believe these were just her trials, all paving the way for a future in which she could inspire and protect others properly, a road paved one bloody brick at a time.

If only she knew that soon enough, something would happen that would shatter even that last bit of faith she held with bloodied, splintered fingers, and from the scattered shards, a river of blood would pour forth...

But that is a story for another day.

Deirdre’s magic is simple and straightforward: She can sharpen things. That’s it. It would be rather underwhelming if this wasn’t paired with her immense sheer brute strength and wild, berserker style of fighting. It’s not that she’s lacking in intellect, or that she doesn’t have proper training; retired Gladiator “Eclipse”, her adoptive father and boss, personally trained her in the art of fighting, even passing down his vaunted tridentfighting techniques to her. In fact, her first few matches as a Gladiator had her use a trident. But Deirdre cannot be bound by the desires of others, not even when fighting, thus she quickly put her custom-made trident back on the rack and made herself a pair of makeshift weapons: Composite stagsteel chained hooks. Stagsteel is almost exclusively used as a construction material, and makes for an unorthodox choice of material for a weapon, as it is far too heavy and far too hard, making swinging it difficult and sharpening it an incredibly expensive, time-consuming endeavor. Deirdre’s raw strength and ability to sharpen things, however, make it a perfect match for her. Going wild is just natural for her, and following her sharp instincts is just what’s best for her, she insists. Besides her chained hooks, Deirdre has a penchant for sharpening her fingers to lacerate foes with brutal swipes of her hands.

Her close bonds include a slightly strained relationship with her adoptive father, a close friendship with a certain Archbishop that likes to stick her nose where it doesn’t have any business sniffing around, and casual friendships with some drinking buds of hers, in particular a certain journalist. Of note, Deirdre’s made fast friends with two twins, a brother-sister pair of “League Gladiators” (think pro-wrestlers, their fights are a show instead of actual fights) with high aspirations, and it is from them that her interest in massaging was born. But that, too, is a story for another day.

Despite her wild fighting style, her demeanor is rather amiable, and is surprisingly passionate for things that catch her interest. She likes dressing in what others consider old fashioned clothing, for reasons unknown to anyone except Deirdre herself, and makes it a point to always be sharply dressed if she can help it. “it’s important to keep decorum,” Deirdre says in her immaculate dress, even though she’s just watching hydraulic press videos while slouching over the computer and eating Soritos on her day off.

When “another day” arrives, her story will be told.

#OC #commissions #deirdre caerbannog gutraidh #power word: bnuuy

[cerastes]

Question: is Deirdre swoll like fanon Saria or Hoshiguma or she is more like a genshing impact build? What i mean, is that she were to throw her shirt out for a direct fisticuffs beatdown, would she look like a yakuza (male) protagonist or more like she came from a manwha?

Deirdre’s more of a lean, sinewy build. She’s of average height (177 cm/5’8) and doesn’t have much in the way of body mass, so constant conditioning and working out has given her a build closer to Bruce Lee or, keeping it on topic, Majima:

Low body fat centric, efficient strength training with Deirdre’s lithe frame in mind has resulted in a build like this. This was, of course, not Deirdre’s idea, but Seirian (who manages Deirdre’s conditioning). If it was up to Deirdre, she’d bulk up with strength in mind (think powerlifter build, not body builder), but Seirian forbid it since Deirdre’s already very strong physically and her main manner of maiming is to slash, gouge, and rip apart like a wild animal with her sharpening magic rather than actually engage in contests of physical might.

You could say Deirdre wants to do the cool thing (punch huge dudes) while Seirian makes her do the smart thing (play to her advantages), which extends to her fitness. Uncompromising as she may be in many ways, Deirdre ultimately does respect Seirian a lot, so she listens (don’t tell Seirian, though!)

#hiziram #ivarea #deirdre caerbannog gutraidh

[cerastes]

Forget if I already sent this so apologies if double ask, but I adore Deirdre's weapons so very much. Unconventional weapons are a favorite and particularly ones that can involve big ol sweeps, that and chains in combat, considering she at first used the trident how did she land upon her eventual weapon of choice?

You didn't double ask so no worries! Chains as weapons have always fascinated me as well, especially since you can attach whatever at the end and suddenly you have More Weapon with More Role, for example, in Deirdre's case, it's two large hooks, but you could swap a hook for a solid long nail, or a mace head, or just about anything that can serve as either a weapon, for more creative utility, or both. I like weaponry that can also be creatively used for other ends, personally.

I do plan on posting that story when I'm done writing it and I do address that in there, so I won't go guts deep into the details but, basically, the trident was passed onto her by her adoptive father, himself a tridentmaster, and she became sufficiently proficient with it, but it never really clicked with her. The idea that her father had was, since she can sharpen things, the trident, in her hands, becomes not just a powerful weapon that can stab from afar as well as a being able to defend with its prongs, catching weapons and limiting evasion around its lunges, it also becomes a slashing weapon that can be swung about. That works out on paper, but the trident is an unwieldy weapon to swing in the first place, it's not designed for that, plus having to pump magic into it while swinging such an awkward weapon was difficult. Deirdre could either swing properly or pump the magic into the weapon, but could not do both properly at the same time.

Still, the deadline for her first Gladiatorial fight is nigh, and there's not time to hammer out that particular dent, so our brave bnuuy, stars in her eyes, was ready to start her Gladiator life, the path to greatness and glory! Unfortunately, unbeknownst to her and the audience, but not to her adoptive father and other interested parties, her debut fight had a secret purpose: One of them was going to become state-sponsored Gladiators, specifically taking on the duty of doing the state's dirty work, taking out inconvenient faces and such. Her opponent was very much instructed to kill her, and her adoptive father was forbidden by the powers that be from telling Deirdre what was really up with this match-up, so she goes in there, and eventually starts getting ragdolled pretty hard, so she tries to give up, referees "don't notice" (as instructed, they got a good paycheck that day). His attacks eventually hit her on the head, and part of her helmet gets torn out, exposing her mouth and jaw, and while straddling the line between life or death and realizing, Oh Fiddlesticks, This Guy Actually Wants To KILL Me, in a desperate bid, she throws the trident like a harpoon and manages to disarm the guy. Before he can grab his weapon off the floor, she goes Daigo Umehara on his ass, successfully sharpening her hands with magic, a task far more easily achieved on her own body that on a foreign object. This would take explaining how magic works in the setting, but for now, just understand that magic is far, far more effective on its own user due to compatibility, as everything in this world, organic or otherwise, has a degree of magic resistance or permeability. So she starts clawing, punching, and swiping like a wild beast, ripping chunks of his armor away, and finds it far more easy to move around and, hey, what the hell, this feels natural, this clicks. Before she can get too happy about it, though, her enemy manages to pin her with a counter, and it seems like it's a stalemate for now, as he's got her wrists and is mounting her. In a move no one predicted, less of all her foe, though, fueled by pure instinct, Deidre leans forward with all she's got and, magically sharpening her teeth, chomps right through the armor on his neck and bites out his carotid artery, killing him. Basically eats the guy's neck in live television. That was a pretty rough day for TV networks, by the way. Damn eventful on social media, though.

Since his intent to kill was pretty apparent, the match was ruled a victory for Deirdre, who was not punished since it was clearly self-defense. Fighting for her life like that taught her quite a bit, first and foremost that, to put it in a way, "Yeah, ok, I may be able to use the trident in practice mode, but I'm getting my ass whooped in ranked with it. My HANDS, however..." so she immediately switched mains, basically. She just found it very, very natural to fight with the freedom afforded to not having to hold anything. So she thought "ok, but I'm going to get Absolutely Killed By Weapons if I go without weapons into the weapon fighting arena".

THAT is when A Certain Archbishop (the same that is mentioned in her post and who would eventually become close friends with Deirdre), a sponsor of Sun Eater (her father's Gladiator Club), comes to the office, congratulates her, and points out that she was in fact Much More Baller without the silly old pointed stick, and that she should, in fact, drop it. Deirdre shares her apprehensions to this Archbishop and, it turns out, this Archbishop is in fact a retired Gladiator herself, and a very successful one, so she helps Deirdre out pick out her weapon.

"You see, Gladiators of old used nets or chains to restrain their opponents, and it's why you're allowed a side-weapon in matches, maybe we can think of a side-weapon first?" the Archbishop suggested, and just like a gas leak levels a house during summer, inspiration overcame Deirdre's brain.

"Chains! I can wrap and attach them on my wrists and arms, and they'll naturally follow the motions of my swipes! If need be, I can hold them, sharpen them, and swing them to add momentum for a truly colossal slice! I bet I can cut through a whole dude! It's perfect!"

"There's NO way that'll work, sweetie. Also that's a bit scary so don't phrase it like that."

And it worked really damn well.

With more experience, Deirdre refined her fighting style, adding two large hooks to the chains. She'll usually hold the hooks by the base and use them as short blades, and then adjust the length of her grip according to what she thinks is the best way to deal with her current opponent. Plus, when she needs to REALLY go in, she can just let them go and use her Beloved Very Sharp Hands, and since the chains are wrapped around her arm, she's not disarming herself. It all worked very naturally to fit her naturally aggressive, wild, momentum-based style of fighting.

Her adoptive father was very ":(" for a while, though. The old goat thought he taught her well...! He got over it, though. She got him the OST of his favorite old movie on vinyl, original package, so he was like ok maybe this isn't so bad fine I forgive you hmph!

#oh god this ended up very long sorry #it was like three sentences in my head #deirdre caerbannog gutraidh

[cerastes]

Wow... your oc father sounds like kind of a piece of shit, allowing her to enter a match to the death without telling her (because boss man), preparing her as a killer and gaslighting her for years. If bnuuy, in a hypothetical past where the match she lost was far worse and not be forgiven, would he help her or would have thrown her to the wolves and clean his hands on the situation (so bad, so sad)?. If "necessary", would he kill her on orders or at least try to plead her case? Would he do it personally or arrange for an accident?

"If bnuuy, in a hypothetical past where the match she lost was far worse and not be forgiven, would he help her or would have thrown her to the wolves and clean his hands on the situation (so bad, so sad)?"

Brynmor Gutraidh, Deirdre's adoptive parent, is someone to Keep An Eye On, in the same way you keep a wary eye on an unstable molotov cocktail, you are correct about that much. There is sincere affection in there for Deirdre, but it's important to note that he adopted her specifically because she was the most violent kid in all the orphanages he visited. It was always the plan that he wanted a successor, a killer.

Brynmor is getting in on the years, you can still spy a few blond strands of hair here and there, but they are often imperceptible in that ocean-like silver mane nowadays, and the chipping and wear on his horns don't heal as fast as they used to. His main imperative was "Find a successor, prepare them as best as I can, and let the cogs turn as they always have, keeping this Kingdom running as it should". As time passed, his fatherly side did come out and Deirdre enjoyed what could be called an irregular but otherwise happy upbringing, her violent tendencies eventually subsiding. This last part should've been a concern for him, and yet, he was happy about it. That's when he realized that he may have failed.

So, with this morsel of context, the answer to your question: He'd intervene to the best of his ability to get her off the hook, but if it happened to be something completely unforgivable, and we're talking about something that not even his pull with the old guard can let her off the hook, he'd have to resign himself and let the Kingdom grease its cogs. If she can't keep her post, then at least he'd beg to have her sent away, and if she won't be exiled, well... The Kingdom knows what the Kingdom needs.

It sounds rather ruthless. It is. The risk was always there. Brynmor is, ultimately, an old hero of the Kingdom. All he did and does is, ultimately, for the Kingdom and its reigning Goddess. It's a hero's duty, a Kingdom's man duty, to sacrifice everything for the greater good, and he can't let selfish desires get in the way of this greater good. Or so Brynmor thinks, at least. Maybe it's what he tells himself to cope with this possible eventuality. Maybe it's what an old killer that didn't want to actually bond with his tool tells himself after failing to keep distance, to keep it all business.

If "necessary", would he kill her on orders or at least try to plead her case? Would he do it personally or arrange for an accident?

He'd always try to plead her case, but if ordered directly by either his Goddess or someone of almost equivalent authority with no way out, he'd do it himself, and though this would usually call for a "thorough, safe job", or in other words, assassination, outnumbering the target, creating an accident, and other such dreadful yet sundry things, Brynmor would make it an honest fight instead, one on one. At that juncture, when everything else has failed and there's no other recourse, the last and least thing he could do for Deirdre is give her a swift, dignified death.

#deirdre caerbannog gutraidh #hiziriam

[cerastes]

For your Oc deirdre: what would happen if they were to be defeated for real? Like they get the assignment to kill this motherfucker and instead get a beatdown that is downright biblical. That they only survived because they were not killed. Would that affect her worldview or just take it as another "thats how it is on this bitch of an earth"?

Oh, she's lost before. In Atorrhia, Gladiatorial combat consists of real fights but rarely are they deathmatches. They can be agreed upon to be deathmatches, but this is a very, very rare occasion, it causes all sorts of problems with sponsors and TV networks, and it's been the case that some of these very rare deathmatches have only been Pay Per View or just outright not televised. It's not too markeatable, basically, so the Cathedral tends to discourage it. Killing your opponent is not allowed, but due to the nature of fighting, sometimes it happens, and if it's ruled an accident, you get off without any penalties. Throw in a bit of propaganda here and some media manipulation there and the fact that the referees, judges, and medical teams are in the Cathedral's pockets and, well, they can get away with a lot without much consequence, except from the more perceptive citizens.

Deirdre's position is a bit special: Technically speaking, she IS a Gladiator, and a state-sponsored one at that, meaning, her Club is officially backed by the powers that be, and under their umbrella of Clubs that ultimately responds to the state. So she can technically aim for the top. Practically speaking, however, she's kind of inheriting the role her own adoptive father used to enforce: Basically an industry/state plant that takes out people inconvenient to the state, or makes those who the state backs up look good. She Did Not Sign Up For This, and she's not fully realized it so far, but where she once was a star-eyed competitor, she's kind of come to realize that her chance at a big title will forever be stifled by an order to lose to someone or another, and when she asks, "you have to be patient, we're waiting until the time is right for you to truly shine", something she's heard for years now. Incidentally, Deirdre's rather unpopular among the more perceptive, propaganda-resistant populace since she's had an alarming number of "accidents". The way she copes is that she's always told that this person is actually really awful or that that person is part of a terrorist organization or has ties to a cult... Basically, "it's dirty work, but I'm doing it for a good reason, I AM protecting the people, doing something good", but that only worked for the first few hits, and now she actively hates it. It's a bit hard for her to immediately doubt it all when it's her adoptive father that's giving her the orders and telling her it's For The Greater Good, but even filial affection has its limits, as far as excusing heinous behavior goes. She's been putting the dots together as of late, that'll lead somewhere, as putting dots together is often wont to do.

Outside of these "fixed" fights, though, she sometimes gets to fight on exhibitions and minor league bouts, and sometimes, well, she's gotten her ass whooped by unlikely opponents. She's overall a graceful loser in that she doesn't make a scene or holds grudges or anything, but it does sting like hell when she loses, and that's when she redoubles her efforts, and makes it a point to return the favor tenfold if possible in the future. Her win-lose ratio is pretty damn good, but you can't win them all.

Though, you asked specifically about "they get the assignment to kill this motherfucker and instead get a beatdown that is downright biblical". This has happened once, she was meant to "accidentally" kill her opponent, but she was a far better fighter than Deirdre, and after a good attempt, it was a knock out. This got Deirdre in a LOT of trouble, since then they had to arrange an "accident" for the winner, and the powers that be got the last laugh, but at a far greater, riskier price. Failure is not tolerated, but since her stepdad has draw with the bigwigs, she got off with a stern warning. How it affected Deirdre personally is that she just felt like absolute utter shit, not because she lost -- well, losing doesn't feel good, either -- but because she would never know if she could measure up to this opponent in the future, because now it's out of her hands, and into the far, far more ruthless hands of the Cathedral upper brass. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. This situation specifically was sobering for her, it's when she realized "Oh, yeah, I'm disposable, aren't I? If I don't do the deed, someone else can, and then I'm in the receiving end of 'accidents'." Let's just say it was an important realization for what would happen in the future when she had enough and broke the chains, eventually. Eventually. Realization leads to fear, fear to dread, and dread, to anger.

#hiziram #deirdre caerbannog gutraidh #thanks for the ask #and sorry for the wall of text I got lost in that sauce