Sir Bertil Gawain
@chivalricHarbinger
Harbing'r of all yond is chivalric and righteous Us'r of the axe greene
Your name is BERTIL GAWAIN, dubbed SIR by the Empress herself. 20 sweeps ago you were the CHIVALRIPPER CAPTAIN of the TABLESSE ROUND, an elite imperial task force designed after STORIES FOR WRIGGLERS. But to you these stories were everything. The story of the GREENE KNIGHT, a myth of ancient Alternian lore who would dwell forests and judge those who called themselves loyal to the empire according to his PERSONAL CODE. Those unworthy would be BEHEADED, SCORNED, AND BROUGHT BEFORE THE EMPRESS, where she would be ridiculed for her improper teachings. Legends of the Greene Knight faded with time, wherein the final pages claimed he was EXECUTED by the Empress for TALKING SHIT. 15 sweeps ago, on a hunt, you found an axe stuck in the stump of a tree. You felt it CALL TO YOU, or so you say, and you felt it resonate to your touch (or so you say also). You picked it up and, in your mind, became the GREENE KNIGHT ITSELF. CERTAIN THINGS happened, the details of which do not matter and are, as you say every time someone asks, LOST TO TIME, and you are no longer employed under the Empress. You are the LONE CHIVALRIPPER, THE GREENE KNIGHT, WIELDER OF THE AXE GREENE, and the HARBINGER OF ALL THAT IS UNJUST. Your relationship with the Empire is extremely complex and confusing. Your interests DO NOT MATTER. Your hobbies DO NOT MATTER. Despite being called 'Sir', your gender DOES NOT MATTER. You are your cause. You speak "with such certitude as the Greene Knight himself mightst have borne." And typically reference the KNIGHT'S CODE that you live and judge by. You claim to have an IMMORTAL BODY, but who really knows if that is true or not. These nights, you wander the forests of Alternia with your lusus, SURTUR, searching for trolls to JUDGE. https://i.postimg.cc/28MYgTNF/image-2026-05-30-194531606.png
♱ Verily, too many beasts dwell herein bearing the selfsame name.
and none of them are exa(tl7 alike
♱ Long hours have I spent in deep contemplation, yet my course remaineth unknown.
Your name is BERTIL GAWAIN, dubbed SIR by the Empress herself. 20 sweeps ago you were the CHIVALRIPPER CAPTAIN of the TABLESSE ROUND, an elite imperial task force designed after STORIES FOR WRIGGLERS. But to you these stories were everything. The story of the GREENE KNIGHT, a myth of ancient Alternian lore who would dwell forests and judge those who called themselves loyal to the empire according to his PERSONAL CODE. Those unworthy would be BEHEADED, SCORNED, AND BROUGHT BEFORE THE EMPRESS, where she would be ridiculed for her improper teachings. Legends of the Greene Knight faded with time, wherein the final pages claimed he was EXECUTED by the Empress for TALKING SHIT. 15 sweeps ago, on a hunt, you found an axe stuck in the stump of a tree. You felt it CALL TO YOU, or so you say, and you felt it resonate to your touch (or so you say also). You picked it up and, in your mind, became the GREENE KNIGHT ITSELF. CERTAIN THINGS happened, the details of which do not matter and are, as you say every time someone asks, LOST TO TIME, and you are no longer employed under the Empress. You are the LONE CHIVALRIPPER, THE GREENE KNIGHT, WIELDER OF THE AXE GREENE, and the HARBINGER OF ALL THAT IS UNJUST. Your relationship with the Empire is extremely complex and confusing. Your interests DO NOT MATTER. Your hobbies DO NOT MATTER. Despite being called 'Sir', your gender DOES NOT MATTER. You are your cause. You speak "with such certitude as the Greene Knight himself mightst have borne." And typically reference the KNIGHT'S CODE that you live and judge by. You claim to have an IMMORTAL BODY, but who really knows if that is true or not. These nights, you wander the forests of Alternia with your lusus, SURTUR, searching for trolls to JUDGE. https://i.postimg.cc/28MYgTNF/image-2026-05-30-194531606.png
♱ A mediation proceedeth from my liege lord... yet merit from mine Empire splits the pan.
Sir Bertil G★w★in, ★ knight without comr★dery c★n h★rdly be c★lled one. These ★re however only my own views. If this is how you truly feel then I suggest you pledge loy★lty to The Empress inste★d.
Your p★th is your own. Ponder on this ★nd come to your own conclusion.
♱ CEASE THY DISPLAY OF THAT MOVING IMAGE OF THE MAIDEN'S SWAYING HIPS UPON MINE DASHBOARD!
ᐖ OHHHHHH ᐖAT FAIR WUT IF INSIAᐖE ᐛ
ᐖ ZOMG WAIYT. IF I WUZ A ᐖRAGON I ᑈULᐖ BBLAᑈKSMIFF ANYWHERE WIFF MY FIRE BREAF.....ᐖAT WULᐖ BE SO ᑈOOL IF U ᑈULᐖ BE A ᑈREAᑈHER WUT WULᐖ U BE X3 ᐛ
♱ Had I been a beastly creature, I should crave my Empress and my lords to slay me where I stand, for I couldst not serve them in such a manner.
ᐖ OKAYYYYY BUT WE PLAYING PRETENᐖ RITE NAOW. WUT IF U ᑈULᐖ BE A BEASTE AN ALSO SERBE ᐖEM. I FINK U'ᐖ BE LIEK. A GIFFIN. ᐛ
♱ In this most false and passing fancy, which should ne'er come to pass, I would fain be a griffin.
ᐖ HAHA ZOMG YAYYYY WE ᑈULᐖ GO FLY AROUNᐖ TOGEᐖᐖER WHEEEEE ᐛ
♱ Cease this folly of make-believe. I am Sir Bertil Gawain, and no griffin am I.
ᐖ AW OKAEY. LUV U ᐛ
I Didn't Say Good Dusk, Because It Wasn't A Good Dusk. If It Were A Good Dusk I Would Be Fishing.
c< true as fucK >c
♱ Verily! That is what I am saying!
♱ Doth love float upon the breeze? Nay; 'tis but the vapors that render thee infirm.
♱ Mine attributes be naught but what those of noble caste and royal blood decree them to be.
♱ Fair night unto thee all. How fare ye?
⚰︎ Oh…um…no♱ bad…♱onigh♱e…♱hanke you for…asking…how are…you…?𓉸
⚰︎ Tha♱ is…goode…♱o heare…I hope…♱he res♱ of your nigh♱e…fares jus♱e as…welle…𓉸
♱ On mine device I play Furious Fowls.
♱ I do engage in diversions upon my device.
♱ I have found a liege to serve without delay. This website is wondrous!
Question. How do you feel about evil?
♱ I am the arbiter of righteousness. I decree what is evil. And I do smite it.
Question. Where does "killing the opponent in consensu★l duels" f★ll in your righteousness sc★le?
♱ Knight's Code, Part the Fifth: To perish in fray is ever just. To fall in equal combat is high honor. To slay in equal combat is ne'er a crime.
I think I llike you.
♱ Tis a weary tedium by the hearth. Boring.
♱ I do already play the fool. Ere morrow's eve, my head shall be severed! #gore should thou be inclined.
♱ I repose here beside the blazing pyre. Weary by happenings of a night before.
♱ Methinks 'tis whispered that base and wretched knaves dwell herein. Losers Chud make hive within this realm.
Knaves as far as the bullbs can scry, indeed. Step with care.
c< tHey dO iNdeed, be very careful! >c
♱ I fare right well this night, and pray all others do likewise. This realm appeareth, thus far, untainted by sin.
Methynks thou art not fully Apprysed of the Sytuation herein, but lyke, Whatever, welcome to the Shitte Show.
No, twas more a Turn of Phrase, for wythyn there be Chuds Losers and Other Such Lowe Lyfes. Steel thyself, for tys a Wretched Hyve and one that I have mynesylf Come To Love .
♱ Hail, all souls. I be Sir Bertil Gawain, wielder of the Axe Greene and justiciar of righteousness. Chivalripper of Tablesse Round.
c< welcOMe 2 tHe party! Nice ta Have ya arOuNd! >c
♱ I pray that all revelry be readied for the intrusion of Sir Bertil Gawaine, Justiciar of Justice; for 'tis amidst such feasts that vice doth most oft slip its bounds.