#{ requiem for who i once was 🎶 headcanon 🎶 }

[galeforged]

Embrace a Most Engaging Encore (Forwin in Fire Emblem Engage)

One can fit a surprising number of names under the all-encompassing mantle of a bard. Are they but simple musicians by trade, eager to entertain any passing soul willing to lend an ear? Do these poets simply aim to please with silly verses with no proper aim, or are they master storytellers, who not only know how to enthral, but also inform the masses? How many great deeds have they borne witness to as historians, and how many fantastical tales have they passed on as collectors?

Poetically known as the Emblem of Bards, the spirit of Emblem Forwin stood out from among his peers as a sterling example of his trade, with Elyos minstrels in the distant past having learnt the story of a bard well-travelled. Forwin Tyrell natively hails from Fódlan, the same land of origin as the Emblems of the Academy and of Rivals. Born as Wyndell von Gerth, the lutist stepped away from nobility and instead embraced the simpler life of a commoner, though he soon ended up under Garreg Mach Monastery as an Ashen Wolf student in Abyss.

When war came to the monastery, the battle saw Forwin falling through a hidden gate in the catacombs and emerging in Nohr, home to Corrin, the Emblem of Fates. He would further hone his talent as a court musician in the service of the kingdom’s royal family, up until the warring lands of Hoshido and Nohr joined arms against their true enemy. Along his long journey home, Forwin also ventured with Celica, the Emblem of Echoes, in her quest to reach Mila’s Temple and free Valentia of Duma’s influence. The bard would finally reach his homeland five years after he vanished, and see to peace returning in Fódlan after the end of the conflict between the Adrestian Empire and the Church of Seiros.

Should the Divine Dragon happen upon the Bracelet of the Wanderer in which Emblem Forwin’s spirit resides, he can be awakened from it with the invocation: “Play on, Emblem of Bards!” Those who don the Bracelet in battle can Engage with Emblem Forwin; when bestowed with his powers, they would also find notable stat boosts in Magic, Dexterity, and Luck.

To obtain the Bracelet of the Wanderer, the player must clear his Divine Paralogue: “The Windborne Songster.” Rumours of bandits raiding the tomb in which the Bracelet is kept have reached the Divine Dragon’s party. Upon hearing of this, the group promptly leaves for the islands south of Firene to investigate, lest they risk the Bracelet falling into the wrong hands and becoming lost forever. While Alear and company would arrive to find that those same bandits thankfully failed and perished, their foolish attempt at stealing the Bracelet nonetheless caused the tomb’s guardian golem to awaken...

The map for this Divine Paralogue replicates that of Chapter 4: Danger in the Dark, from the “Cindered Shadows” side story of Fire Emblem: Three Houses. The map’s theme, in turn, includes a new rendition of “The Shackled Wolves.”

Emblem Forwin’s Skills and Weapons: Bond Lv. 1

Engage Attack: Vigorous Song. Grants an adjacent ally Str/Mag/Def/Res+3 for one turn, and allows them to move again.

Engage Weapon: Wind Caller’s Genesis. A sacred wind tome wielded by Emblem Forwin. Restores 30% of unit’s HP after attacking. Effective: Flying.

Engage Skill: Curtain Call. Boosts Dex/Lck when HP falls below 50%.

Sync Skill: Wind Caller. 40% chance to slightly increase damage dealt by offensive magic. (Cannot inherit)

Inheritable Skill: MagicDexterity +2. Grants Mag/Dex+2.

Emblem Forwin’s Skills and Weapons: Bond Progression

Lv. 2: Magic/Dexterity +3. Grants Mag/Dex+3. Inheritable Skill.

Lv. 3: Bowfaire 1. Grants Atk+1 when attacking with a bow. Inheritable Skill.

Lv. 4: Influence. Increases range of magic by 1. Sync Skill (Can inherit).

Lv. 5: Skill Inheritance. Unit can inherit this Emblem’s skills. Unlock.

Lv. 6: Tome Prof. Proficiency with tomes. Required for promotion to certain classes. Unlock.

Lv. 7: Bowfaire 2. Grants Atk+2 when attacking with a bow. Inheritable Skill.

Lv. 8: Bow Prof. Proficiency with bows. Required for promotion to certain classes. Unlock.

Lv. 10: Violin Bow. A musical bow wielded by Emblem Forwin. Increases adjacent allies’ dexterity for one turn after combat. Engage Weapon.

Lv. 10: Mystic Arrow. Adds (Magic)/3 to Strength when attacking with a bow. Sync Skill (Can inherit).

Lv. 11: Bowfaire 3. Grants Atk+3 when attacking with a bow. Inheritable Skill.

Lv. 12: Wind Caller+. 40% chance to moderately increase damage dealt by offensive magic. Sync Skill (Cannot inherit).

Lv. 13: Magic/Dexterity +4. Grants Mag/Dex+4. Inheritable Skill.

Lv. 14: Bowfaire 4. Grants Atk+4 when attacking with a bow. Inheritable Skill.

Lv. 15: Wind Caller’s Gale. A mighty wind tome wielded by Emblem Forwin. Sends foe staggering back 2 spaces and limits their Mov. to 1 space. Effective: Flying.

Lv. 16: Mystic Arrow+. Adds (Magic)/2 to Strength when attacking with a bow. Sync Skill (Can inherit).

Lv. 17: Bowfaire 5. Grants Atk+5 when attacking with a bow. Inheritable Skill.

Lv. 18: Wind Caller++. 40% chance to greatly increase damage dealt by offensive magic. Sync Skill (Cannot inherit).

Lv. 19: Magic/Dexterity +5. Grants Mag/Dex+5. Inheritable Skill.

[macuilsung]

@blade-of-fraldarius said via Send A Number to Experience One of My Muse’s Memories (open!):

22. A memory of the first time they did an activity they love // 21 21 21 21 21 GIMME BABY FORWIN

This was a bad idea. An awful, stupid, terrible idea. Just the thought of it crushed the already negligible amount of courage he managed to gather under the full weight of its heel. So, he hid behind one of the caravan’s carriages, hugging his instrument—the one thing he took with him when he did the unthinkable and ran weeks ago—close against his chest.

Him, playing before a bunch of people, as though it were effortless and not the most terrifying thing imaginable? There was no way he could bring himself to perform with a straight face, not in front of all those seasoned professionals! They’ll laugh. They’ll notice his voice cracking from fear, accidental dissonance from getting his fingering wrong, him plain forgetting lyrics to a common folk song... Any one thing can go wrong, and it was bad enough when he felt that he was about to faint in front of them all just moments ago!

Indech, he was just supposed to be a stagehand to these people, nothing more. Now this whole party of strangers wants to hear him play? No way could he ever do this.

“I-I can’t do this. I can’t do this! I’m so sorry, I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I’m sorry, I can’t do this-” A mantra of self-sabotage kept repeating from his lips if only to escape that same loathing echo in his mind, and his face grew hot as his eyes seared themselves shut under the threat of tears. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. Maybe he should have just held his tongue and stayed in Gerth after all. Maybe he should just leave and go back! Wait, but then his father would never let him go again. Oh Goddess, what the hell had he done-?!

Then he felt a hand fall on his shoulder.

“Forwin?”

“-NO!” Sudden intrusion led to a sudden whirl of fright, with him shoving the hand away and putting a good few feet of distance between himself and its source for good measure. The quick scramble led to him nearly dropping his lute altogether, with thuds against its wood and twangs from its strings ringing until he managed to cling to it again.

“Forwin, keep calm! It’s only me!”

Forwin? ...oh. Yes, that was his name from this point on, wasn’t it?

As his body shook, his sights focused strongly on the woman who found him away from the rest of the ensemble, and sure enough, he was aware of his own surroundings again between wide-eyed blinks. Only now did he recognize her as Tristine, the troupe’s manager and one of its founders. Her blond hair, long and wispy, still retained some amount of youthful shine in spite of incoming greys, though it was hard to see it in the dark away from the campfire.

“Relax, child. Just breathe, you’re safe. Deep breaths now...”

Slowly, “Forwin” did as he was told, and Tristine took a few steps closer. The worst of his jitters ebbed away between each lungful of air taken in and out, but all he could do once he settled down was look away in embarrassment. He could not find the fortitude to look the coordinator in the eye, afraid to find what undoubtedly was an expression of shame, maybe even regret for taking him in at all! Please, Sothis, she wasn’t about to kick him out and leave him stranded in the middle of nowhere Faerghus, was she-?

Instead, all he felt was a soft hand comfortably caressing his cheek, with the warmth of her palm gently nudging him to look to her eyes in earnest. Once coaxed into doing so, Forwin—whose current disposition could be likened to that of a frightened woodland animal—only found concern and worry in her gaze, making for a sharp, distinctive contrast from the man he once called Father. It was almost enough to make him cry.

“I-I’m sorry, Tristine... I-... I couldn’t do it... I...” Shy of sobbing and lost for words, the young teen could not find the means to justify his running off like that, only to find her other hand reaching up towards him. He flinched when he felt it land on the top of his head, but found his eyes watering again for something other than abrupt pain. He couldn’t remember the last time someone tenderly stroked his hair, fingers lightly scratching at his scalp underneath the now mess of blond hair, like it was under her touch at this moment.

“Shhh... It’s alright, darling. Just let it pass, like bad weather,” she advised softly, letting her digits do their work in soothing the runaway noble. “Stage fright happens even to the best of us. It is nothing to be ashamed of, understand?”

“...mm.” All Forwin could add for a reply was a low nod and a nigh inaudible hum, allowing himself to unwind under her ministrations. He couldn’t help feeling a little pathetic on top of it all – no reasonable fourteen-year-old should be crying like this! He had to be more self-reliant. Yet, Tristine did not judge. There were no criticisms, no punishments, no dressing-downs of any sort. In their place was only unconditional care for the wayward boy she took in back in Remire. Was it wrong to want to stay like this for a few moments longer?

Then came the sound of approaching footsteps crunching cold grass.

“Is everything all right with the kid?”

That voice, Forwin recognized as that of Davina Leverock, the acting director and the other cofounder of the troupe that bears her namesake: Leverock Travelling Theatreworks. All he knew about the retired Mittelfrank star was that she retired from the stage a few years after he was born, before founding her own company with Tristine sometime later. Though he had not known her long, she seemed... nice enough – a bit on the abrasive side as a former star would probably comport themselves, but nice!

“I-I’m okay...” he answered to the raven-haired actress, albeit not without one last shaken breath, before Tristine would interject otherwise. “I’m... sorry I worried you.”

“If you’re truly sorry,” came Davina’s retort with mischief made plain on her face, choosing to take the young man at his word with a grin. “—then we’ll need you and your lute back with the others to get music going. Don’t worry, you won’t be singing by yourself – I can still carry a note or two, as can the rest of those bozos. Run along now.”

Hearing that that much pressure would be taken off of him finally put him much closer at ease, so he bowed to her with joint respect and relief. “Thank you, Davina.” Not a moment passed before he repeated those same actions for Tristine, and swiftly took his leave after no further prompting and one more deep breath on his part. Hopefully the rest of the troupe at the centre of camp were as accommodating...

However, the mood swiftly changed once he was out of sight and earshot from the leaders. With the two women by themselves, the actress turned to look back at her wife with worry of her own. Tristine’s hands were balled up and shaking while her breathing laboured, as though she did not know whether to first wallow in sorrow or give in to outright fury from what she just witnessed of their newest hire. Davina did not have to think too deeply as to why.

“Love, I understand you’re upset...”

Forwin thought he heard the sound of a fist punching the wood of the carriage.

...

“...Forwin, if you could get us started in A minor?”

Though not without incident, on this night came the first time he found something of a calling.

With a few plucks of his strings to ensure that his lute had not gone out of tune, Forwin turned to look around the modest circle of faces he was now a part of around the flames. Expectant eyes from cast and crew alike still managed to whittle down his mettle as before, and already his last nerve begged for him to turn tail and hide once more.

But before he gave in to that urge, his gaze settled on Tristine again on the other side of the fire, who curiously seemed to be nursing her hand as though it were sore. When she realized he was looking in her direction, she shared only a subtle nod and smile in return. If he hadn’t known better, he could have sworn her face was a little red as well... but he dismissed the notion as though it were simply the lighting’s fault.

‘Just breathe’ was what she told him, so he did exactly as he was told before. One slow intake, hold, one slow exhale. Breathe in slow. Hold. Breathe out slow...

...I’m safe.

I can do this.

Per Davina’s instruction, albeit with his eyes closed to better steel himself, the bard-to-be began to play at last. The melody from his strings, joined by an ensemble from the chirps of crickets to the crackles of the flames, rang loud and clear in the midnight air. The actress then introduced her voice first:

Of all the trees that grow so fair, Adrestia to adorn, Greater are none beneath the sun Than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn

Forwin listened keenly as Davina sang this old folk song with untold years of expertise behind her, as though age had yet to dull her tones. Yes, she fit the part of a Mittelfrank songstress well, but he was almost floored when the rest of the gang joined for the chorus. Some voices were refined and trained, others were throaty and clearly tone-deaf, but none of that mattered when not one soul didn’t join in for this familiar tune.

Finally, watching as Tristine sang too, he couldn’t resist either and found himself beaming with relief all the while.

Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs, All on a midsummer's morn- Surely we'll sing of no little thing In Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Yes, he could definitely get used to this sort of atmosphere instead, far and away from the stifling conditions he endured under House Gerth.

Perhaps, someday soon, Forwin would be able to carry a song on his own...

[galeforged]

Grabs you 12, 13, 22 for Forwin!

via Super detailed questions about your OCs (open!)

-

12. What is their favourite food? / 13. What is their least favourite food?

Tying these ones together!

As a result of his experiences, Forwin's horizons when it comes to food are... pretty broadened, compared to others. There is the matter of his noble upbringing so a lot of the meals he ate at the time were, of course, of high quality make. However, he did also manage to tour a good chunk of Fódlan, and had been exposed to a wide variety of dishes! Meals among commoners! Foods from the other nations!

And since beggars couldn't be choosers when he dropped down to a lower class and took to the road, along with a developing palate, Forwin already has a pretty good idea of what sort of foods he does enjoy and doesn't. He likes his foods flavourful and savoury, and loves to indulge in the odd sweet... but, hilariously, despite growing up close to the Adrestian coastline, he is not fond of fish (the same goes for sour foods). If he's to consume any sort of dish with fish in it, there better be enough of other items on his plate to offset it... or at least crisp up the fish somehow.

That might have something to do with the stench of fish churning his stomach. Perhaps something related to his Crest making him sensitive to certain odours? Or is it just a matter of personal preference? Maybe he just doesn't like the texture in his mouth? Who's to know!

As for what he prefers from the dining hall's offerings at Garreg Mach Monastery, here's the list!

Liked Meals

Saghert and Cream

Sweet Bun Trio

Sautéed Pheasant and Eggs

Peach Sorbet

Beast Meat Teppanyaki

Gronder Meat Skewers

Derdriu-Style Fried Pheasant

Vegetable Pasta Salad

Vegetable Stir-Fry

Sautéed Jerky

Garreg Mach Meat Pie

Gautier Cheese Gratin

Disliked Meals

Fish and Bean Soup

Fruit and Herring Tart

Fisherman’s Bounty

Fish Sandwich

Pickled Seafood and Vegetables

Cabbage and Herring Stew

Small Fish Skewers

Fried Crayfish

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

I wouldn't say he has any one insult that stands out, but that's not necessarily a bad thing for him either.

Because of how he was raised, Wyndell von Gerth got... really good at keeping to himself from young. That meant no speaking out of turn, no raising his voice, no talking back, and no whining off to anyone about nonsense. He grew up quiet and compliant... but, keep in mind, he was groomed to be the next Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Adrestian Empire. That's not small potatoes!

So, while Wyndell couldn't dissent from his father, he still picked up a few important skills in diplomacy and tact. He certainly picked up the vocabulary for it! Then on top of that, he ran from home and ended up in the care of a theatrical troupe! Yes, it did wonders in undoing a decent portion of the damage over the course of a couple of years on the road, and really helped him flourish as his own person. But it is with them he started to find his footing as a bard.

The education of a budding politician, mixed with a love for music and poetry, on top with the aplomb of a showman? It takes time for something to truly grow from this cocktail, well past the Academy Phase and his early days in the realm of Nohr, but by the time Forwin matures and returns to Fódlan? Watch out, chiefly to those who lord themselves over others, or insist on a completely wrong idea about himself or others, or people who are just plain awful!

By default, Forwin has a kind heart and won't seek to insult others with no good reason. He does not like conflict, and works to avoid it at all if it can be helped! However, if you succeed in drawing his ire and he feels confident enough in his own skin to stand up to you (ESPECIALLY in his later years), get ready for the dressing down of your life. This songster will mince no words and no sass in expressing how much he vehemently dislikes you, all while picking apart the reasons why!

As for an example of this side of him, here's one from the Academy Phase!

[galeforged]

Forwin: Trilingual Out of Practice ♪

As the heads of House Gerth historically served as the Ministers of Foreign Affairs for the Adrestian Empire, one key skill the position came to demand is the expected ability to speak and understand multiple languages.

The Kingdom of Faerghus itself was birthed from splitting from the Empire, and the Leicester Alliance came to be when it splintered from the Kingdom, so the three nations within Fódlan proper were still able to find commonality in sharing the same speech. However, look beyond lands within the Church’s reach, and you’ll come to find language barriers are a very real thing.

While Dagda and Brigid still came by surprise with their joint invasion of Nuvelle and Ochs on Imperial land, tensions between these nations and the Adrestian Empire actually date back hundreds of years to the First Mach War. As such, it became not simply politically advantageous, but absolutely paramount to have someone within the realm of Imperial politics who knew the Dagda and Brigid tongues off-hand.

Wyndell von Gerth, who was raised to succeed his father as the next Minister of Foreign Affairs, was no exception to that tradition. Since young, the scion of House Gerth and future Duke of that name had been taught to read, write, and speak both of these foreign tongues on top of his native one since young. With time, he became remarkably fluent in all three languages.

But then the Dagda and Brigid War happened. Aid for House Nuvelle was deliberately delayed as punishment for siding with Emperor Ionius IX during the Insurrection of the Seven. When Duke Gerth finally left to inspect the damages and later ratify a peace treaty, Wyndell stole away and took on a new name.

As a result of his departure, Forwin’s interactions have almost all exclusively been among fellow Fódlan natives, thus his neglected trilingualism took debilitating hits as the years dragged on. Can he still understand the languages of Dagda and Brigid? To a half-decent-ish extent, sure. He won’t be lost reading them, though writing will take a fair bit of recollection to remember some of the more complex rules. Although, his poor speech wound up suffering the hardest, so an actual conversation with him in these tongues will be broken, stilted, and very drawn out.

[galeforged]

Wyndell von Gerth was born on the 10th of the Harpstring Moon (May 10), in the Imperial Year 1161. Given his... upbringing, the little noble learned to keep to himself in order to avoid trouble and attention, with him becoming borderline introverted and shut-in, to a point almost comparable to a certain Adrestian Count's daughter. Of course, this all came to a head when he did the unthinkable and ran away from home, and since taking on the alias of "Forwin Tyrell," these behaviours had to become unlearned, little by little.

Of course, when initially becoming Forwin, certain things hadn't changed right away. It was a given that he would keep his personal information private lest he let the cat out of the bag wholesale, but given that he was a private person to begin with, he simply spoke little of himself at all.

And yes, that would even include his birthday. When initially falling to Abyss, Forwin told no one about it, and would, quite frankly, kept it that way simply by not bringing it up himself at all. The same would go for when he vanishes to Nohr. His self-conscious heart just didn't want to make things all about him!

At least, that was how he saw it for himself, yet he would happily celebrate and contribute to anyone else's birthday. The only real way anyone would've known when his birthday is if they were to ask him, whether point-blank or mid-conversation.

Thankfully, he grows to become far less shy about it as time goes on, once he fully embraces his penchant for showmanship.

[galeforged]

😶 + Forwin, what’s the most embarrassing thing you learned and have ever done while drunk?

via Send 😶 + a really uncomfortable question and my muse has to answer it (open!)

“Oh goodness...”

The bard could not help but rub at his neck a little when drinking habits, with a nervous laugh breaking from him in an attempt to remain jovial to some degree. Cornered as he was, Forwin knew there was no wiggling his way out of this one.

“I... would not be so impolite as to decline a couple of drinks when I am offered some, but... I try and take my time in savouring them for as long as possible. As far as tolerance goes, I am actually a bit of a lightweight,” he confessed. “The grog offered at the Wilting Rose in Abyss was not all that pleasant to the tongue to begin with, so for the most part, I was able to get away with only a small amount of drinking.”

“But, then I ended up in Nohr for a good spell. In spite of the kingdom’s sparse crops, the booze there was of much better quality. On the handful of occasions where I had... more than a few, it turned out I had the tendency to become really sad and mopey when I become full-on inebriated. Apparently, I also get a little clingy in return for the slightest bit of validation...?”

Probably from the general everything he learned to repress and all he lost throughout the years, but this, he kept quiet. Besides, Forwin had a reputation to uphold! Cheery, jolly, and all-accommodating was he! He could not afford to get depressing, sharing that his father never loved him, that he feared he would die alone and everything he loved would leave in the end—hoo boy, he did end up doing all that once when he was shitfaced. Fuck.

��I-I am in a much better place emotionally now though, I promise, so I do not think I would fall back into such a mindset... buuuuuuut I am in no rush to find out either.”

[galeforged]

Absence Makes Us Fonder (Forwin and Vi Paralogue)

Upon learning of his mentors’ whereabouts, Forwin prepares to leave the monastery with great haste. Vi initially dismisses the idea of joining him, but curiously changes her mind once she hears of his destination…

—Opening narration

Absence Makes Us Fonder is Forwin and Vi’s Paralogue Chapter in Fire Emblem: Three Houses. This chapter takes place in Albany territory in the Leicester Alliance, and is available on all routes during Part 2 after completing Chapter 15. Like A Cursed Relic and Black Market Scheme, this Paralogue Chapter is only available as downloadable content via the Expansion Pass bundle.

Available until: 8/30

Suggested level: 29

Units: Forwin, Vi

———

Rewards

Weapon: Sword of Fragarach. Sacred weapon (Crest of Macuil) that restores HP every turn. Effect increased with Crest. Effective against Flyers.

Battalions

Gerth Magic Militia: A group of mages that long served as a private army for the noble House Gerth. Associated with Forwin.

Gambit: Resonant Wind. Powerful wind magic that affects a wide area. Range 1-2. Effective against Flying foes.

Nilsson Sedation Corps: An independent group of chemists who once assisted the Eastern Church. Associated with Vi.

Gambit: Poison Wave. Inflicts poison status on all targets in the area. Range 1. Effective against Armoured foes.

—————————

Before Battle

———

Ashen Wolves Classroom

(Forwin enters)

Vi: You appear to be… unusually frantic, Forwin. Did something you eat not agree with your stomach? Should I begin preparing a remedy? Forwin: What? No, Vi, I’m fine. I-I appreciate the concern, but I can’t afford to stick around right now. Urgent personal business and all that. I am only here to grab my things and go.

Byleth:

Choice 1: What urgent business? (continue below)

Choice 2: Are you sure it’s not your stomach?

Forwin: Not you too, Professor. My health is in top form, that I can assure you!

Forwin: Right, so… A while ago, in exchange for a favour of his choice, I asked Yuri if he would keep an ear to the ground for my old mentors. With Fódlan in disarray, I started to doubt whether anything would actually ever turn up. Honestly, I considered giving up on the search altogether, but one of his associates just returned with some troubling news as to their whereabouts.

Byleth: Do you intend to follow up on that lead?

Forwin: Yes. You see, back when I left House Gerth, I was fortunate enough to be taken in by the Leverock Traveling Theatreworks! They were this group of performers led by Davina Leverock, a former Mittelfrank Opera Company songstress, and her wife Tristine, who worked as our coordinator. We toured around Fódlan, up into Faerghus and down through Leicester… but since the war began, it seems as though the Theatreworks disbanded entirely. Vi: I recall a troupe of that name visiting Nilsson a few times, over the years. My… my sisters and I enjoyed their shows together. Forwin: Ha, small world! Perhaps I saw you in the crowd once... though I don't remember you mentioning sisters before. Vi: No one asked.

Byleth: You're planning on going alone.

Forwin: If I have to, yes. I owe all that I am to Lady Davina and Lady Tristine, so I can’t stand idly by while they are in danger. They and the Theatreworks were the closest thing I had to a real family after I left home. Of course, that applies to the Ashen Wolves now too, but... those two are still family to me. Vi: Regrettably, I am currently too busy with an experiment to accompany you. I apologize, Forwin, but I wish you luck all the same in your endeavour. Forwin: It’s alright, Vi. No harm done. I already planned on going by myself anyway.

Byleth: 

Choice 1: Where are you going then?

Choice 2: So Davina and Tristine are… where?

Forwin: Well, word has it that they are currently being chased over treasure of sorts in their possession. Thankfully, though, they’re not far from here. From what I heard, they were last spotted in the Viscounty of Albany, in Leicester. Vi: (gasps quietly) Forwin: If they still had the troupe, I wouldn’t be so worried… though it sounds like it’s just those two by themselves. They’re fierce, sure, but if something actually happens to them… Vi: I will go with you. If the situation really is as dire as you make it sound, then I can’t, in good conscience, allow you to charge in by yourself. Forwin: Wait, did you just change your mind? What about your project? Vi: My sisters… They are in Albany. A lot of time has passed since I last saw them, as venturing by my lonesome outside of Abyss before proved unwise. Now, circumstances have changed. Strength in numbers will better assure success for both of our aims. You will reunite with your mentors, and I will finally visit my sisters. For that, my work can wait. Forwin: That’s perfect! I can’t thank you enough for this, Vi. Vi: Professor. You will join us too, won’t you?

Byleth:

Choice 1: There’s no time to lose. (Begin Paralogue battle)

Forwin: Fantastic! It will put my heart at ease to see them once more. Let’s sally forth!

Vi: Florine, Rusalind… At last, I will see you again. -x-

Choice 2: We can’t just rush in. (Return to previous screen)

Forwin: A-ah… and here I started to get excited.

Vi: Regrettable… However, we did just propose this to the Professor. Once you’re adequately prepared, then?

—————————

Battle

Victory Conditions: Rout the enemy. Defeat Conditions:

Casual Mode: Forwin, Vi, Davina, or Tristine fall in battle.

Classic Mode: Byleth, Edelgard/Dimitri/Claude, Forwin, Vi, Davina, or Tristine fall in battle.

———

Beginning of battle

Bandit Leader: After them! Those two couldn’t have gone far! So help me, if they get away with our big payday-! Vi: Marauders… and many of them. It appears we were already beaten to the punch.  Forwin: No, listen! It doesn’t sound like they found them yet. We're not too late! We can still turn this around! Davina: Great, more enemy reinforcements? …hold on, those ones aren't dressed like they’re with the thieves… Tristine: Love, it’s only a matter of time before those bandits search this stronghold. We have to move!

———

End of Player Phase 1

Davina: Well, well! I guess we’re not total goners. Look alive, Tristine! The cavalry is... Hey, wait a second. Are my eyes finally failing me or is that-?! Tristine: I can't believe it... Forwin!

———

Davina

Talking with Forwin

Davina: Long time no see, little bard. Here I thought you bit it when Garreg Mach fell years ago! Forwin: Let’s just say that reports of my death were greatly exaggerated. It’s so wonderful to see you again though, Lady Davina! Truly. Davina: Yeah, yeah, missed you too. Save the sappy stuff for later, we have to survive this first! Forwin: Right, you can count on me!

Talking with Byleth

Davina: So you’re the infamous Ashen Demon… Charmed to finally make your acquaintance. I can rely on that frightful power of yours to get us out of this mess, right?

———

Tristine

Talking with Forwin

Tristine: It really is you! You’re alive! Oh, Forwin, I thought you lost forever-! Forwin: Lady Tristine! Goddess, I’m SO relieved you’re… Wait, that sword! Is that what these thieves are after? Where did you get that?! Tristine: We… We have a lot to discuss, darling. After the battle is over, I promise you. Forwin: Tristine… A-are you-?

Talking with Vi

Tristine: My, my… Are you a friend of Forwin’s? Vi: Yes. I’m Vi, an apothecary. Pleased to finally meet you. My family enjoyed your shows. Tristine: And a fan, too! It comforts me to no end to see he found such dependable companions. Thank you, Vi, for looking after my son. Vi: Naturally. I am—Wait, did you just say “son”-?

———

Bandit Leader

Vs. Forwin

Forwin: Didn’t your parents teach you better manners? It’s poor form to insist on a woman’s company after she declines, you know. Bandit Leader: What the... A minstrel? Bahahaha!! Whatcha gonna do, play me a little tune?! Forwin: For threatening the lives of my mentors, I think it’s only fair that I get to send you off with a smile and a song. Off to your early grave, that is!

Vs. Vi

Vi: No… I will not allow that same tragedy to repeat itself here. Not here, of all places. NEVER again! Bandit Leader: Don’t you think you’re a little out of your depth here, girlie? A shrimp like you don’t stand a chance against me! Vi: Then let’s put your theory to the test, shall we? Your witless tongue against my poisons. Conclusion? Let's find out together!

Vs. Anyone

Bandit Leader: Playing the hero, eh? I don’t care who the hell you think you are. You are not getting in between me and my mark! Not today!

Defeated

Bandit Leader: Damn it…! Got so close… to finally striking it rich… That sword should’ve been mine…!

———

After all enemies are defeated

Vi: There… I believe that should dissuade others from attempting the same. We’re safe. Forwin: Tristine, I can think of only one other person who would have that sword. You know I have to ask. Just... who are you, to me? Really? Davina: Honey, I think it’s about time we tell him. We owe him and his friends that much for saving our skins. Tristine: (sighs) Very well. You have a right to know.

—————————

After Battle

———

Visconty of Albany | Daytime

Tristine: Davina and I… We were in love ever since I first saw her onstage in Enbarr. We shared this dream of starting a travelling theatre company together, after she retires… but my parents ordained that I would marry another, instead.

Byleth: You were a noblewoman, Tristine?

Tristine: Indeed. Though I am Crestless, any child I carried could potentially inherit my family’s Crest. Thus, my House and land folded into my husband’s. Isolde von Ulrich married Duke Gerth… then the burden of Saint Macuil’s Crest awakened in my only child. In… you, Wyndell. Forwin: So it really is you… Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We were together again, and for two whole years! Mother, you could’ve said something! Why-?! Davina: Calm down, kiddo. Let her finish. Tristine: Roland gave me an ultimatum: either I stay to bear him more children with Crests, or I leave alone with nothing. He already got what he wanted, and I couldn’t stand the thought of mothering more young for someone whom I feel no affection. Leaving you behind, my sweet boy… it tore my heart in twain. Davina: So, she returned to me with a settlement of gold, House Ulrich’s heirloom, and a new name. From there, we finally wedded, made good on our dream, and toured Fódlan together. Still, not one day passed where you weren’t on her mind. Tristine: I couldn’t believe my eyes when we found you in Remire, years later. Frail and frightened over every little thing! I knew then I made a mistake. I should have stolen away with you before. Isolde lost all right to call herself your mother... but as Tristine, I believed we could start over. Davina: Then we brought you in, gave you a fresh start with the Theatreworks… and you know the rest.

Byleth: Forwin, are you alright?

Forwin: Y-yes, it’s… just a lot to take in. Goddess, damn these tears- Tristine: If nothing else, I can finally pass along what was meant for you. The Sword of Fragarach, from House Ulrich, is your birthright. May it serve you better than it did me. Davina: You’re not our anxious, mousey stagehand anymore. You’ve really grown, little bard. We’re proud to see what you’ve become. Forwin: Thank you both… F-for everything you did for me. (sniffs) Thank you. Vi: I did not expect a family reunion for you today, Forwin. I’m… happy. Forwin: Oh wait, Vi! Didn’t you come for your sisters? Where are they? Let’s escort you right now! Vi: See that ridge? Just on its other side, there is forest. Their graves are there.

Byleth: Graves…?

Forwin: Oh no... Vi: We Februs were a family of healers who long worked for the Eastern Church. However, we fled after they committed a taboo for the benefit of medical sciences. We made for Abyss, but the Knights of Seiros intercepted us here… and slew them. Now, Rusalind and Florine are survived only by their youngest sister, Virgilia. Me. Forwin: That… explains a lot. Now I understand why you hate the Church so much… Vi, I-I’m sorry. I must’ve been insensitive just now. Vi: Don’t be. I kept it secret from you and the others all this time. Besides… thanks to your efforts, we three shall meet again. That’s all that matters to me. Forwin: Well, I meant what I said before: the Ashen Wolves are my family. Whatever you need, in thunder, lightning, or in rain, I’ll be there. Vi: Additionally, this would be impossible without your indispensable aid. Thank you, Professor. Davina: Say, you’re not in any rush to leave, right? We’d like to catch up with our boy before we part ways. Tristine: And to get to know his little friend! After she sees her family. Virgilia, was it? Vi: Y-yes, that… sounds delightful.

Byleth: 

Choice 1: We can stay for a little while.

Choice 2: Alright, but not for too long.

Davina: Cheers, "Professor!" You’re alright. Now, Forwin, tell me: how the hell DID you survive that Garreg Mach raid? Where’d you disappear to? Forwin: Wow. I, uh, don't think we'll have enough time for ALL of that...

[galeforged]

Forwin: Quirks of Macuil ♪

Having inherited a Major Crest of Macuil from his mother’s side, Forwin’s blood effectively granted him a number of additional boons compared to those attainable by the average man. Chief among them include Macuil's most documented gifts: a greater aptitude for magic like the Saint himself, and an inherent affinity for wind magic at that!

But, there are some lesser mentioned quirks that the Gerth runaway would come to realize over the years.

Due to his Crest’s empowerment via the element of air, Forwin possesses a keener level of awareness on changes in atmospheric pressure, to the point he becomes a walking, talking barometer, not unlike experienced sailors! Call it instinct, but if you ever hear the bard offhandly comment on the weather, say: “I think it might rain soon?” under clear skies, you might want to take him at his word before you get caught in a surprise downpour!

It’s not all good news for Wyndell von Gerth, however. Because of his Crest, the bard finds that he’s a lot more sensitive to air quality compared to others, depending on whether the air around him is clean and abundant or stale and unmoving. And if there's one thing Abyss's air most certainly happens to be, it's stale.

Because of this, Forwin made a number of secret trips on the surface over his time beneath the monastery, to the point rumours circulated of a ghost haunting the cathedral at night. Indeed, this was not due to a preference in acoustics for where he might play his lute, though that too is a contributing factor. The truth of it is that he needs fresher air before long, even if it meant risking getting caught by the Knights, otherwise he would risk falling ill...

Thankfully for him, that becomes a non-issue once the Ashen Wolves are given free rein to roam the monastery come 1180. To be back under a blue sky and open air on a consistent basis definitely contributes to Forwin’s better mood, with him feeling more energized and willing to engage with others!

–

It is also established that those who come from other worlds are not as powerful as they would be back home. The same is also said for the songster during his timeskip years, spent on the other side of an Outrealm Gate.

In his case, Forwin's magic power would end up lacking some of its punch, due to him being outside of his natural element in Nohr and Valentia. The feeling might be more comparable to him being born with a Minor Crest of Macuil instead... but, sadly, his symptoms are not alleviated any more because of it: lesser potency, same great drawbacks!

[macuilsung]

@armatization​​ said via Send A Number to Experience One of My Muse’s Memories (open!):

14. A memory of a relationship ;; doesn't have to be romantic but I Must Know

“He took it away from you again, huh?”

The answer she received only came in the form of an unintelligible grumble from the morose son of Gerth. Without holding his lute in his hands, keeping it strapped to his back, or even holding it in his arms for comfort, all he felt was emptiness – not that he felt much confidence in himself to begin with, even with his beloved instrument close by.

“He... said it’s distracted me from my studies too much lately.”

Books and tutors around the clock, until his mind hurt and failed to retain a single word from another page. Spellcraft until his blood boiled from calling on his unwanted Crest ad nauseum, now that going to the School of Sorcery in Faerghus was suddenly off the table. Always having to be mindful of his family name and father’s legacy, for some day it will be his burden to bear with all of Adrestia judging his every move – yet he cannot even go and speak with half the nobility in the Empire on his own terms without him approving of it. Punishments often followed when he dared protest or stray from anything of it, the only path intended for the rest of his living days, and he was told to feel thankful that taking away his lute was all Duke Gerth did this time.

Goddess knows Roland was capable of more, and Wyndell unfortunately knew better than the Goddess, from bruised skin where none could see to the occasional calls to his incompetence ringing in his ears.

“Your father isn’t here now, is he? You’re free! ...err, until he and Uncle Theo are done, anyway.”

At least sitting with present company gave him a moment’s rest. The boy was not confined to the walls of his estate, and running off to the beach until Roland came looking for him was just the balm he needed. Wyndell need only close his eyes to focus on the sound of the waves and breathe in the ocean air to imagine that he’s much further away, and allowing the sea breeze ruffle his once neatly combed hair however it desired to was all the more soothing to his frayed nerves. And his lifelong friend kept him anchored on the sandy shore here and now, with only her words and a soft hand to his back.

"You’re lucky...” he mumbled low lest he choked on his own grief, having to keep a palm pressed to his eye to wring out stray tears. Afterwards, it took little time for his arm to find itself joining its opposite in hugging his legs close, once again. “You don’t have to deal with... with all this pressure, these expectations. I-I never wanted any of this...”

“Perks of a cadet branch in a small barony, I guess. I know none of this is easy on you,” she sympathized as she sat close to the point of leaning on his shoulder, keeping her gaze on the horizon line just as he did, though it was not long until it too fell thanks to a pang in her chest. “And now he wants to marry you off to some floozy you never even heard of next. Right?”

“Y-yeah, I, uh... don’t know who Father wants for me either. He refuses to say.” Wyndell almost forgot his own misery from the odd turn in conversation. “I-it’s always for the good of Gerth, or the Empire, or... or something like he often says, but I d-don’t even get to have a say in that.” It was always to the benefit of the family name, these choices made for him.

“...then who?”

“Who what?”

“If you had a say in it? Who would you pick as your wife?”

“E-eh?” Only then did he realize he put himself in a corner while talking her ear off. Granted, Wyndell knew few noblewomen his age to begin with, but he did not speak such woes as if he already had a name in mind! The option to choose for himself was what he lamented, that was all!

But when he finally looked away from the sun preparing to disappear into the water and turned to find the expectant gaze of his companion... the pubescent nobleman suddenly became very aware of context. He also became very aware of how pretty she looked with the sunset making her hair glow, only for his face to turn as crimson as her eyes and tresses in realization.

“...s-sorry, it was... stupid of me to speak of something like that so lightly.” Saints above, this was mortifying! Quickly, he looked the other way along the shoreline of her family’s territory, lest he shame himself even further. Instead, all he heard next was a sigh escape her lips. Was she disappointed-?

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing... what again?”

“Apologizing when you don’t need to.”

“O-oh... Force of habit.” At least this sort of embarrassment was easier for him to swallow, but his expression sank back in turn to exhausted sorrow. Force of habit it was indeed, and he did not look to rush back to the man he often apologized to just yet. A few more minutes of this peace and quiet—albeit an awkward peace and quiet of his own making—with her is all he wants while he can still get it, before they get called back to the Ochs estate.

“Thank you for letting me talk anyway, Monica.”

“Of course, Wyndell. What are friends for?”

[macuilsung]

brain, unprompted: “Okay, picture this. Forwin freezing up and freaking the fuck out internally upon encountering Anankos during the final fight in Revelations, because hey maybe that one encounter with an unhinged Rhea in the Holy Tomb—where she transformed into a dragon after threatening death on Byleth and everyone who defied her—left a bigger mark on him than he thought it actually did. You know, that woman who took him in and provided him sanctuary in Abyss?”

me: “w-wait, slow down for a minute-”

brain, continuing: “Castle Gyges falling apart and shaking under the weight of Anankos’s complete awakening suddenly sends him back in time, to when the walls of Abyss started to crumble from whatever the hell is going on on the surface and leaving him trapped until he found an Outrealm Gate. Having repressed as much of what happened back then and only glossing over it mentally at best, the realization that it all may have been from Rhea transforming into the Immaculate One—which, in turn, ultimately resulted in him having no other choice than to go through that Gate to survive and likely cutting him off from Fódlan forever—hits him like a fucking freight train right then at the worst possible time.”

me: “OKAY, WOAH, I GET IT-”

brain, wrapping it up: “From an offhand mention from Garon, Anankos, or (spoiler for Sylph), Forwin’s long-held belief and understanding that he carried a Saint’s Crest—which he felt burdened by for the longest time up until his final days in Garreg Mach—crumbles under the revelation that it’s actually dragon blood that’s coursing through his veins. Not to mention how vulnerable and exposed he feels towards everyone in the army from it, given he likely wouldn’t have told others about his real origins, but that decision has already been made for him and now he’s outed in front of his new friends and allies! Have fun with all that shit about yourself you’ll have to explain after the battle’s won, Forwin... IF YOU CAN FOCUS UP AND SURVIVE THE FINAL FIGHT AHEAD, AT LEAST. TRY NOT TO THINK TOO HARD ABOUT IT AND DIE HERE, FAR AWAY FROM HOME WHERE YOUR OLD FRIENDS WILL NEVER FIND YOU.”

me: “YOU CAN STOP NOW, BRAIN, THANK YOU-”

brain, for good measure: “Now, adding that little identity crisis bombshell with what he witnessed from Rhea two years prior, plus Anankos being in the state he’s in from living so goddamned long, he’d then understand Edelgard’s cause far more than she would’ve originally clued him and others in on. This would, in turn, spur him all the more into trying to go back home in the future!”

me:

[macuilsung]

Once he started working directly for the royal family of Nohr, Forwin managed to accrue a respectable sum of gold to his name over time but had little idea on what to spend it on. Even taking a night off to explore the markets of Windmire couldn’t really incite him to buy things he doesn’t necessarily need!

Come his first visit to Cyrkensia by King Garon’s side, however, he fell in love so hard with the city of music, so much so that he didn’t know what he wouldn’t want to bring back with him to Castle Krakenburg! He fiercely looked forward to every trip into the kingdom of Nestra not only for new opportunities to advance his own craft, but for any treasure he may be able to return with, be they tools and new strings to maintain his lute or new songbooks to practice with.

You know, the finest of essentials for his job, in order to continue entertaining the royals and keep a roof over his head.

But one item that he often loves to spend his cash on for personal gratification alone are music boxes. From their designs bearing their creator’s sense of expression to the variety of short melodies they might ping out, it is always a surprise to see what sort of music box may await him on his next visit. Plus, they pluck at some nostalgic heartstrings, given he had a music box of his own back when he was very young in Gerth. thanks mom <3

After returning home to Fódlan and seeing through the end of that conflict, he would likely continue to collect music boxes to delight himself. Additionally, should he find himself fortunate enough to fall in love, marry, and have children of his own, Forwin would absolutely procure—perhaps even commission—music boxes for his kids as well. Or for children of his friends, even!

[macuilsung]

{ ooc } Calling out all the tall/strong Fire Emblem ladies:

Guaranteed flustered mess getting cradled in your arms right there.

Ya know, in case anyone’s curious. 👀

[macuilsung]

{ ooc } Lads, ladies, and enbies, I think I’ve found the perfect voice to match Forwin.

For a while, I’ve been trying to figure out whose voice would suit boyo best but didn’t really commit to a search for ideas until this morning. I always had something soft-spoken in mind for him—especially for his Academy Phase years—given he’s one of the younger members of the Ashen Wolves (youngest of the boys, second youngest overall in front of Constance), and Justin Briner popped into my head because hey, Izuku Midoriya from My Hero Academia fits that role pretty well, doesn’t he?

...so I dug deeper into Briner’s other roles and my god WE’VE FOUND A WINNER! He’s got a fairly decent range, but man some of those deeper voices (9'α from Darling in the Franxxx, Siegfried from High School DxD HERO, AΩ Nova from Space Patrol Luluco, Arashi from Show by Rock!!) hit SO WELL for Forwin as he grows older towards the War Phase!

AND BONUS... THE MAN CAN SING.

[macuilsung]

Headcanon: Quirks of Macuil ♪

Having inherited a Major Crest of Macuil from his mother’s side, Forwin’s blood effectively granted him a number of boons compared to those attainable by the average man, chief of them being the most documented gifts: a greater aptitude for magic like the Saint himself, and an inherent affinity for wind magic at that.

But, there are some minor quirks that the Gerth runaway would come to realize over the years.

Due to his Crest’s added empowerment via the element of air, Forwin has some keener level of awareness on changes in atmospheric pressure, to the point he becomes a walking, talking barometer, not unlike experienced sailors! Call it instinct, but if you ever hear the bard make one offhand comment like “I think it might rain soon?” under clear skies, you might want to take him at his word before you get caught in a surprise downpour!

It’s not all good news though. Forwin finds that he’s more sensitive to whether the air around him is clean and abundant, or stale and unmoving. All those secret trips on the surface over his time in Abyss, to the point rumours circulated of a ghost haunting the cathedral at night? This wasn’t just because he preferred the acoustics for his lute (though it’s definitely a contributing factor) – he needs that fresh air, even if it meant risking getting caught by the Knights, otherwise he feels he might fall ill...

Thankfully for him, that becomes a non-issue once Byleth Eisner joins the Officers Academy, with the Ashen Wolves given free rein to roam the monastery after certain events. To be back under a blue sky and open air definitely contributed to Forwin’s better mood, with him feeling more energized and willing to engage with others!

It is also said that those who come from other worlds are not as powerful as they would be back home, and the case is also the same with the bard during his timeskip years spent on the other side of an Outrealm Gate from Fódlan. Aside from being summoned to Zenith by Askr’s Order of Heroes, his magic power would lack some of its punch from him being outside of his natural element in Nohr and Zofia. The feeling might be more comparable to him being born with a Minor Crest of Macuil instead!

[macuilsung]

{ ooc } Either everyone’s on the mother mayhem bandwagon or most of my mutuals are from the UK...

Whatever the case, don’t catch me thinking about developing Forwin’s mom or anything, else I’m gonna be stuck here all day.

...

...so her name is Isolde-

Isolde von Ulrich is descended from House Ulrich in the west of the Adrestian Empire, a minor barony among the empire’s nobility and one of few noble families—if not the only other family, House Nuvelle aside—that still carried the Crest of Saint Macuil in its bloodline. Being a child without a Crest, she later married into House Gerth, the imperial household responsible for Adrestia’s foreign affairs, as the wife of Roland von Gerth.

To say she was unhappy with this arrangement was an understatement. She would rather let her House fall apart and be done with it just so she could live freely, unbound by the trappings of nobility. If it were up to her, she would have absconded with an actor friend from Enbarr, but with her family pressuring her into this arrangement, she ultimately relented.

She later gave birth to her only child Wyndell. As the only source of parental love when he was little, it was mainly through her that he was instilled with values and ideals that clashed with his father’s from a young age. However, his aptitude for magic manifested early due to the Major Crest of Macuil he was born with. The duchess did not foresee a happy future for her son, a life dictating that his every decision must be made for the betterment of his House, his own personal happiness be damned. So, she tried to steal away with him one night... but was caught in the act by her husband.

With that, Isolde is presented with an ultimatum. Either she returns to a loveless marriage at Duke Gerth’s side with Wyndell in tow, where she will likely be forced to try for a few more Crest children, or she leaves to live her life as she chooses but she leaves alone, renouncing all claim to nobility in the process. As the only surviving member of House Ulrich, she would leave without much of a safety net, so a life as a commoner would be all that awaits her.

With a broken heart for her son and a settlement of gold, she leaves House Gerth.

Little time following her departure from the dukedom, rumour has it she was briefly seen in Enbarr where she took on another name and sought out her old flame. None know what became of them both, as they both vanished without a trace soon after.

Wyndell would unknowingly honour Isolde’s wish for him years later, when he runs away from home in the middle of the Dagda and Brigid war, spurred into the act proper after the fall of Houses Nuvelle and Ochs. Marching towards the border Adrestia shares with the Kingdom of Faerghus, he chances upon a curious caravan of travelling performers coming from the Empire’s east. He needed to get away, supposedly from the invasion, and they needed a stagehand. Thus, the life of Forwin began... but the rest is a story for another day.

Because she left when he was only a few years old, Forwin’s memories of his mother in the present are scarce, to the point he hardly even remembers what she looks like. Still, there’s always a bittersweet comfort in what little he can recall. Lullabies and bedtime stories, warm hugs and ruffling of his hair, a time in his life where love and empathy were present at home...

[macuilsung]

Headcanon: A Bard and His Craft ♪

Be it through nighttime lullabies from his mother before she absconded, expectations in early education thrust upon aristocratic youth such as himself, or opera house performances he had witnessed from the likes of Manuela Casagranda and later Dorothea Arnault in Enbarr, music had been many things to Wyndell von Gerth. It was a constant, a source of comfort, an outlet, and arguably his first love.

As the son of His Grace The Duke of Gerth, with Foreign Affairs Minister Roland von Gerth and Prime Minister Ludwig von Aegir sharing the same high status in social hierarchy just shy of the Imperial Hresvelg family, Wyndell’s education was almost without peer, as he was to be trained in several disciplines with the goal of one day succeeding his father – and that is without taking his future enrolment into the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery into account. Though these were not as high priority given he was to become a ruling Duke, being trained in court manners was nonetheless paramount, including knowing how to dance and perform musically. Learning how to sing and play an instrument (piano and lute, in his case) were the only parts of his at-home education he found any real enjoyment in, even going so far as to writing down arrangements of songs he only heard, but there was always a set pattern in place. Even in music, he was forced to follow certain expectations at home.

When he fled House Gerth and took on a new name to cover his tracks, Forwin joined a moving playing company as an extra hired man. It was through this group of actors and performers that he began to find his calling as a bard, all while his once rigid and structured style of play loosened up with constant exposure to folk music in their travels. Between his formal musical upbringing, watching performances at the opera, hanging around a bunch of commoners for a few years with their own eclectic tastes in song, and even the monastery choir when he joined the Academy under false pretences, there was no shortage of influences being incorporated into his own style as a lutist.

Come war being declared at Garreg Mach and his waking up worlds away in the kingdom of Nohr, a ragged Forwin was picked up from playing on the streets of Windmire for coin, and cleaned up to work as the royal family’s appointed court musician. Granted, this was a cover for King Garon’s intentions for him, all in the name of giving himself an edge over his own war with the neighbouring land of Hoshido; it is the same with his own children inheriting dragon power, his kidnapping of Corrin for their own unique abilities, his hiring of certain retainers of dubious origins, and now his hiring of a certain court musician for the boons of his Crest. Unknowing of Garon’s real motive at the time, Forwin was nonetheless put to work in constantly exercising his craft like he never had to before, which did help him grow as a performer and writer. It’s a weird thing to feel thankful for towards a villain at the end of the day...

Finally, after the defeat of the real enemy behind the Hoshido and Nohr conflict, Forwin would spend a few years in the coastal country of Nestra, found on the other side of Nohr’s southern border. It is here in the musical port city of Cyrkensia—an international resort known for its singers and dancers, as well as its very own opera house—where he would further hone his craft as a musician, going so far as to picking up a violin for a second instrument. As an aside, even his weapon of choice becomes musically-themed, being an enhanced version of the Violin Bow.

But, as time marches on closer towards the promised reunion at the monastery, someone might find himself starting to feel homesick. Perhaps he would wonder how old friends are faring, and what became of his homeland since the Adrestian Empire went to war against the Church of Seiros? Whatever the case, little by little, he would cave in to his growing heartache, and soon end up packing up and taking whatever he can carry.

Forwin would then venture north to try his luck with the Dragon’s Gate he first walked out from over four years ago, and so begins the wandering bard’s long journey home.

All that said? You better watch out and prepare yourself, Fódlan, for the new and improved Forwin Tyrell is not the wallflower he used to be!

And neither is he some kind of body double from those who slither in the dark like Tomas and Monica were. Yes, he’s alive and well, and he swears to Sothis on high that this isn’t another Solon and Kronya situation...

...so pLEASE PUT THOSE POINTY SWORDS DOWN WAIT STOP DON’T THAT’S HOW PEOPLE GET STABBED NO NO NO NO NO-!!!!!!!