The Laughing Fox, Old Burrow Row, the Craftsmans District, Corus, Tortall, Eastern Lands
character type »
commoner
occupation »
innkeeper
education »
primary; specialization; he attended school, can read and write and he's fairly strong in his math - he also apprenticed under numerous tradesmen, and he's proficient in a number of trades.
allegiance »
Tortall
marital status »
unattached
Appearance[]
play-by »
Liev Schreiber
height »
6'3"
weight »
175 lbs
overall appearance »
Willy is by anyone's standards quite a tall man. Standing three inches over six feet, he towers over many a person, a literal giant among men (of course, he's go nothing on the real giants, but that's neither here nor there!) He doesn't like towering over everyone so much, and as a result, Willy tends to slouch and attempt to become shorter. It's not a real noticeable slouch, as he really can't function properly with his back bent over double and his knees bent, but he does tend to lean forward slightly and sink his shoulders when not working.
That being said, Willy's almost always doing some sort of work or another. When he's not busy with moving barrels, walking the pony, sending in orders, bringing in hay, fetching grain, muscling tables about, and Mithros knows what else, he's usually sleeping, eating, or on the pot. In his work, being a rather single-minded sort of person, Willy often lets his mind let go of other things and focuses on the task/s as hand. His posture straightens, his shoulders broaden, and he carries himself like a man that knows who he is and what he's about.
He's a wee bit chubby, our Willy is. It's not noticeable, as it's difficult for one living in the districts of Corus to actually gain massive amounts of weight, but since the successful lift-off of his inn and the beginning of a rather comfortable lifestyle, Willy's packed on a few pounds, of which is most noticeable around his face and his belly and chest region. That aside, William's actually quite muscular. He's spent his whole life doing hard, back-breaking work, and even though he's become an innkeeper, he's not left off with the hard work. He pitches hay himself, hauls barrels of ale and wine up and down the cellar stairs, and he regularly moves the tables around for allow for room for Rosa to clean the floor.
In addition to long years of labor, Willy's put in long years of working under the sun. His skin's deeply tanned, lighter on the underbellies than on the upsides from prolonged exposure to the sun. His skin's a bit swarthy, as he's had multiple ancestors of color (predominantly of Bazhir blood.) On portions of his body that rarely ever see the light of day, his skin's pale; namely, such areas include his groin area and his upper thighs. Speaking of which, Willy's got very nice thighs and... Other parts... And it's not unheard of for a lady to sigh as Willy walks by. Too bad he's so oblivious.
Willy's cut from Scanra stock in some ways; immense stature and wide frame belie his Tortallan heritage and give light to some of his distant Scanran ancestors. He's not stocky, per se - too tall to really be considered so, but he's got bulk, and he fills a door-frame quite nicely. Not that's likely to just stand around in a door-way posing and posturing simply for people to admire his door-filling abilities, but still...
As far as hair goes, he's covered with it! No. Seriously. He's even got hairs on his arms, of all things. For the most part, his hair is dark brown in color. His body hair is rather short and lightly dusts his arms, chest, legs, feet, and other areas. It's thicker in some places, such as in other areas, on his chest, and on the fronts of his thighs and calves. And he's got quite the bush of pit hair in his armpits. His feet are exceptionally hairy (too bad he's too tall to be considered a hobbit), and Rose is always after him to trim the hairs, because they're a 'frightful sight to behold!' He refuses to do so... Mostly out of a rare laziness on his part. He hardly even ever looks down there, so why should he bother to trim them? They're his hairs, after all.
The hair on his head is a different story altogether. Usually, Willy is clean-shaven or running around with a five o'clock shadow. He dislikes the feel of beards (itchy, aye) and almost religiously shaves them with a razor blade. When he's had a rough few days, or he just lets things slide by, his beard and mustache hairs grow at startling rates, and in a week he'll have quite the beard and 'stache, the hair of which is a few shades darker than his normal hair color. Which will, quite predictably, be shorn off forthwith! The dark hair of his pate is thick where it grows, and out of personal preference, Willy tends to keep it short-cropped.
With a round face slightly and pudgy cheeks, William rather brings to mind young pups, though in Willy's case, it's more like an overgrown puppy with opposable thumbs. His cheekbones are well-defined, and they rise close to his eyes and beyond. The eyes themselves are a pale green-gray color, and it's usually difficult to see them as he tends to squint a bit and obscure one's view of the irises; that being said, they usually seem to have a twinkle, as he's a jovial fellow with a good sense of humor that shows.
There are deep lines at the corners of his eyes, creases made from years of laughing and smiling. Willy's eyelashes are long and full, and many a woman has stared in envy. His eyebrows, which, oddly enough, rest right above his eyes, are a shade of brown slightly darker than that of his head-hair, and they're moderately bushy. His nose is pronounced, narrow at the bridge and broadening at the bulb, making for a slightly wide, round nose-tip. The nose is a bit crooked, as it's been broken a time or two since he opened up the inn and started dealing with drunks. Beneath his nose is the final aspect of his face, the mouth; his mouth in particular is wide and a bit thin; he tends to have a serious expression, his mouth set straight or at a slight frown, but if he's even the slightest bit amused, the corners will tip up. He's no qualms with smiling and laughing, but his default is to be totally relaxed. It doesn't take much to get him to smile.
His feet are large, about ten inches in length and broad. His toes are also long and broad. And very hairy, mustn't forget that. Similarly, his hands are very large, capable of wrapping around a young oak tree and touching fingers. The fingers are long and wide, the tips blunt, the hands rough and worn from an entire life spent at labor. The nails are often chipped away due to the work he does do, and if they do manage to grow out, he chews or tears them off, having a preference for shorter nails.
Having been born a commoner, Willy's attire tends to run toward simpler threads. Breeks or trousers, tall boots, tunics and vests are the preferred attire, though the vests are only brought out for special occasions. He has two pairs of boots, one that's black, and one that's dark brown. Both are well-worn and broken in, though the brown pair is a few years older than the black pair. His leg-wear consists of shades of grey to brown, and though most of them are older and worn and stained, they're in good condition, they're comfortable, and they fit. Same for his tunics, though he prefers white to tan to light brown tunics. He does own a few rather nice pairs of breeks and tunics, which he busts out for grand events of various or other natures.
Personality[]
General Personality[]
The first thing to know about Willy is that he's probably one of the nicest innkeepers you'll ever meet. For real. He's a kindly heart, and he's one of those types that will go out of their way to help people in need. When Rosa and her children needed a home, he took them under his wing and not only gave them a place to live, but a means of making money and standing on their own two feet. And though Rosa insists upon paying Willy back for all the things that he's done for them, he refuses to take the money.
He has a soft spot for animals, and will look after animals even if they're not his own; in that regard, its easy to take advantage of him and get Willy to look after animals when the actual owners are perfectly capable of doing so themselves. He doesn't have a favorite animal, but he is partial to the animals that he calls 'his.' Especially Checkers. Man, does Willy adore Checkers. He'll get up in the middle of the night and go and check on the pony, and just the sight of the little equine is enough to make him smile a giant smile. Sometimes, he'll just hang around Checker's stall and talk to him while the brown and white animal munches on his hay, and while there's not a whole lot of conversation going on between the two, the man doesn't mind overly much; it's just good to have someone unbiased listen to him.
That being said, Willy's a fairly open guy. He doesn't judge a man for their occupation (he's not nothing in particular against the Rogue), nor has he anything against homosexuals, a sentiment that is not shared by many of his fellow men and women; the way he figures, its none of his business who's canoodling with who, and as long as it's not him and some other man, he's not going to get all a-fussed about the whole thing.
When it comes to the Rogue, William's of two minds. On one hand, he owes much to the dark organization of Corus; they aided him in obtaining his goals, and they've continued to patron his establishment. On the other hand, he's none too fond of some of the things that they get up to, foremost in mind stealing and collecting protection money. He tries not to think about it, however; after all, he took their money, which was most likely stolen in the first instance.
Most people see Willy as being big, but a wee bit on the slow side. And they're not far from the truth. Willy's no great thinker, that's for sure. But he's honest, and sensible, and where some people are rather high strung and flighty, he's grounded. He knows what he's about, and he's got his own way of doings things; nothing's gonna change that.
That aside, Willy can be easily impressionable. When it comes to his friends, he tends to take their word as truth. Mostly because he's honest and he expects everyone else to be honest right back. Naive, yes. Idealistic, yes. Smart, not really. But Willy's never claims to be brilliant. He's rather humble, and he's the first to point out that he never really finished his education, instead having devoted his school years to working trades and earning a living for himself and his family and later his inn. He does have moments of regret, wishing that he'd finished school, but he tries to not worry about it. What's done is done, and no amount of fretting and wishing is going to change the course of history.
He's a sensible fellow; not overly talkative, he usually says what he means to say. None of this dithering or simpering that's so common these-a-days. He'll tell you what's what, and you can either take it or leave it. Unsurprisingly, he's no-nonsense when it comes to his business. He's got rules, and you've got to abide by them or else you've got to get the sarden sard out of the place. And if you don't move right quick enough, Willy's more than happy to help you out the door.
Aside from unruly drunks and misbehaving rogues, Willy's inn-personality is that of a cheerful, welcoming fellow. He's liberal in his greetings, and he gives anyone and everyone a chance to enjoy the comforts and services of the inn (well, most anyone, s'long as they don't make his hair crawl or tip off his bad-shit-o-meter.) He'll call most anyone a friend, but when people he truly considers to be friends show up, he really comes alive; he loves nothing more than to provide fine service for people in his esteem.
Orientation[]
heterosexual
Likes[]
beer
patrons
his inn
Rosa and her children
Checkers the Pony
Most all animals, 'specially the resident barn cats
lively tunes
good food
his friends
his shiny new pump
sleeping in
his family
talking to people
watching people
having his own establishment
polishing wood
Dislikes[]
abusive people
rude people
corrupt folks
animal abuse
pukin' drunks
overt rogue business
smoking/smoke
people who mock him
people who mock his friends
bullies
liars
dishonesty
violence
fighting
calling people names
Strengths[]
Physical Strength
He's just plain strong! He grew up working in the Craftsman District back during the boom, and he was constantly doing odd-jobs of a physical nature. Willy was always a big boy, and it wasn't hard for him to pack on the muscle; he's gained some weight since becoming comfortable as an innkeeper, but he still does the vast majority of the work, lifting hay, carrying barrels, shoving tables and tubs about, to name just a few things. He serves as his own peacekeeper in the inn, and few dare to cross him - at six foot three inches and with biceps larger than most can fit their hands around, he's not one to be messed with. Of course, most don't know at first that he's a big softy, and he usually works to keep it that way (for appearances, y'see; people like to think that there's someone around to protect them if need be.). That being said, while he's essentially a cuddly teddybear, Willy is not afraid to knock a couple of heads together or forcibly drag someone out of his establishment - and that's about the extent of the violence that he's willing to commit; he doesn't see it as violence, however, but rather as keeping the peace.
Handy-Man
Growing up in the Craftsmans District, Willy was provided with a plethora of opportunities to work as an apprentice; his mother and father encouraged him to learn other trades (his own father was a metal-smith) and learn he did - while not the brightest of boys and the answers to life, the universe, and everything would most certainly elude him for the rest of his days, he was certainly good with his hands and he learned trades easily enough. He's got skill in masonry (it was while studying this that his sister met her husband), carpentry, woodcarving, metal-smithing, and leather-working. These skills aided him greatly when he restored the building that is now The Laughing Fox, and they continue to service him for repairs and upgrades. Being a kindly soul, he's also not above helping out a neighbor with something needed.
Astute Judge of Man
It's something that he developed working with others and dealing with costumers; he's had a few bad experiences, and he was adaptable enough to learn from his mistakes. He's observant - likes watching people - and he can usually tell which way a situation is going just be observing their body language; this has proved helpful, as more than a few times there's been situations in the Laughing Fox that tempers have flared and his quick and timely intervention was required.
Flaws[]
Gentle Giant
So, yeah, he's big, and yeah, he's strong, but all the brawn and size in the world can't help you if you're not willing to use it, and while Willy might cut a frightening figure, most who know him know that he wouldn't hurt a fly; he's a very passive, non-violent fellow, and the thought of hurting folks makes him feel fair queer inside, as if it's wrong. He's no good in a real fight, because that requires commitment to hurt someone, and he lacks that.
Cowardly
That's right, big, tough, muscular Willy Hall is none too brave. In fact, he's a big softy, and he's actually squeamish about things like punching and kicking; definitely not a fighter. He's not the type to go haring off on some grand adventure, and even when he does wind up doing something dashingly daring at the forceful behest of a friend or two, he's easily discouraged and becomes worried, wondering if he should really be doing what he's about to do and oftentimes balking; usually, he's the one that friends have to shove off of a cliff after tricking him to go near it in the first place.
Not A Fighter
It's been covered a bit before; in addition to having an aversion to fighting, he's never been trained to fight. He wouldn't have been able to have a serious hand-to-hand combat experience even if he wanted to, as his body's not been trained to such things; and though he's made a sword or two, he wouldn't have been able to execute a counter-parry even if his life depended on it! Knives, forget it; he knows how to eat and carve with one, but stabbing someone or even throwing it? Not happening. Quite frankly, the very thought of a blade sinking into a person's flesh while in his own hand makes him nauseous.
Uneducated
And that's putting it mildly. Sure, he attended the primary school, and he learned to read and write, same as most other children; and sure, he's a bit of a jack-of-all-trades, never mind the fact that his name isn't even Jack. He can read simple writings and follow linear stories, but start babbling about philosophy and the quantum physics of such or other, and he's totally lost. He's not a very strong writer, and his penmanship is actually rather atrocious - barely legible, save for his name (something he spent many a week diligently practicing, the mastering of which he's actually very proud of.) He couldn't point out Tusaine or the Copper Isles on a map, and he'd be hard pressed to tell you the why's and wherefores of things - to him, they just are, nothing more, nothing less; they're the way the gods shaped them to be, and he's not going to question it.
Blindingly Trustful/ Impressionable
Mostly in regard to people he considers his friends. If they're friends, they're automatically in his 'good' book, and he really has no reason not to trust them (or so he thinks.) This can lead him to unintentionally overlooking traits and ques that he would have picked up upon on strangers, things that would have hinted to him that lies and untruths were being told. That being said, he tends to take their words as is, though, if he's heard something about a topic before talking to them, he might weigh the different stories against each other.
other[]
none
History[]
date of birth»
May 23, 536 H.E.
birthplace »
Flash District, Corus, Tortall, Eastern Lands
family »
Adele Hall - mother; lives in a Great Mother Goddess temple
Tomas Hall - father; forger, working in the quarries
Jethro Hall - brother; merchant train manager
Adamus Hall - brother; a Queen's Rider
Maisre Hall Longfellow - sister; married to Osric
Odric Longfellow - brother-in-law; married to Maisre
William's life began, as many will, with the canoodling of his mother and his father, Mr. and Mrs. Tomas Hall. It'd been the night of their anniversary, and they'd been celebrating rather exuberantly. The results of their exhuberance, such as it was, was pregnancy and subsequent son. Tomas and Adele had been perfectly alrighty with the unplanned pregnancy; they'd already had a son and a daughter, what was a third child? They were married, after all... T'wasn't anything wrong with children from their union!
Throughout her nine months (give or take) of carrying William, Adele was quite ill; morning sickness had haunted her like the plague during the first trimester before subsiding during the second, only to rear its ugly head again during the final three months. Adele had somewhat-morbidly joked that when it came time to deliver the babe, he'd come out the wrong canal. Adele had also had a serious craving for sugar cakes during her second son's brief tenure within her womb; she often attributed Willy's sweet and gentle nature to his being womb-fed nothing but sugar!
When the time had actually come for William to break through and enter the world, he did so via the accustomed manner of babies; sliding down and out, rather than subjecting his mother to yarp him up like some sort of grotesque owl pellet.
The labor had begun in the middle of the night; Adele, who'd been sleeping soundly at her husband's side, had woken to a sharp pain. A veteran of two labors already, she immediately realized what was going on, and thus did not cave into mass panic. She was made of sterner stuff than that. Tomas, on the other hand, had woken when his wife had, and, upon learning the cause for their midnight awakening, had jumped out of bed and immediately begun inquisitioning Adele, asking if anything was needed or if he should go and fetch the local healer. She's assured him that everything was fine, and that she'd tell him when to go and fetch Myra.
As births went, William's was quite smooth; for such a difficult pregnancy, nearly everyone had expected the birth to be just as difficult. His actual delivery time, from first contractions to the slipping of the womb, took about seven hours; somewhere around an hour before the grand event, Adele had sent her husband to fetch the midwife, and it was in the wee minutes of the first hour of daylight that William James Hall, third child and second son of Adele and Tomas, slid into the skilled hands of Mistress Myra Kettleback and took his first independent breath of air.
William's childhood began as a happy one. His family loved him dearly, and they were well off. As a small child, William was given free reign to run about as he pleased, and he often buddied up with the other children of his neighborhood; the family lived smack-dab in middle of the Flash district, so it was fairly safe for them to do so. Among these children was his older brother, Jethro, and a boy named Barend Torgerson; Barry would remain good friends with Willy for the rest of their days. In 538 H.E., when Willy was two years old, his youngest brother, Adamus, was born. This would be the last of the children of Tomas and Adele, as following the birth of Adamus, a stillborn was born; heart broken, Adele had said no more children, and Tomas had asceded to her wishes.
From early on, Willy proved to be one of those types that would follow rather than lead. He preferred to leave the major responsibilities to others and reap the benefits of their hard work; this strategem also allowed for him to skip out on punishments "It hadn't been his idea! He hadn't known what they were up to until it was too late!" More often than not, that didn't work out one hundred percent, but hey, it was worth a try every time...
When William was eight years old, the unthinking happened. The queen of the realm was murdered in the palace, just a ways away from their very threshholds. The death of Nymeria shocked the entire city, and William, barely old enough to understand the complexities and implications of such a thing, recalled how his parents had told him to hush up and stay close. Riots in the street had erupted, and it seemed as if all of the soldiers in the entire world had flocked into Corus in search of the assassins, banging down doors and roughing up each and every suspicious-looking fellow they came across, and more than a few womenfolk, too. And then, just a short ten days later, the new king was crowned, and his first declaration: War. War against the Tyrans.
William's father was a metal-smith; he worked all sorts of metals in the forges. And he was also just one of many who relocated their families to the Patten district and began working in the massive community forges to work and outfit the grand army that the King had called for. Almost overnight, it seemed, what remained of the dilapidated Patten district was transformed into one giant craft network, and it was renamed the Craftsmans district accordingly.
Willy had been in school at the time, and had learned basic reading and writing and math. When the family moved, the education continued for a time; however, when he was ten years old, his father dragged Willy out into the forge, and that was the end of it. And from that year on, Willy worked the trade.
He didn't always work as a metal-worker. He didn't have the same passion for it that his father did, and his father knew that; Tomas eventually sent William out to go and apprentice himself to a different sort of tradesman. "Maybe a woodworker, yeah? Come back and fix our roof!"
Willy did apprentice himself to a woodworker. And a stonemason. And a goldsmith, and a weapons forger, and a wheelwright, and even to a man that fitted armor for knights and their warmounts. He tried a great and many trades, and found that his favorite was that of woodworking; he particularly took to carving, a skill that was taught to him when they weren't otherwise making bows and arrows and spears and lances and such by the bundle. While he was working as a stonemason apprentice, he inadvertedly introduced one of his companions, Odric Longfellow, to his older sister Maisre. The two fell in love (or lust, perhaps?) and were married within months of meeting.
At age twenty-three, some thirteen years after beginning to work the trades, Willy got it into his head the notion to go and try something else. He'd actually been toying with the idea for some time, and the more he had thought about it, the more he liked the idea, until, one day in the year 559 H.E., he went out of the Craftsmans district for perhaps the first ime in his life and took a lookabout to see what was up.
What he found was such; in some parts of the city, people were well-off; particularly in Unicorn. In other parts, however, conditions stunk. And he never had the courage to venture into the Lower City or to go as far as Highfields. They were both reportedly the deadliest, most low-down parts of Corus, and if you valued your hide, you'd stay away from there.
Throughout his travels, such as they were, Willy observed and gathered his own thoughts and opinions; he decided that he wanted to be an innkeeper. What swayed him to this thought, not even he could tell you; perhaps it was a combination of food and people, or maybe it was just such a change from trades that he latched onto it; whatever the case, the notion struck, and he began to work toward that goal.
The first thing that he did was try and find an actual building to have the inn in. Easier said than done, and the man actually wound up venturing all the way to the far side of the Craftsman's district, near the edge of the Lower City limits. He approached a man who owned the dilapidated building that served as a storehouse. The man was trying to get rid of it and move in with his daughter in the Palace, and he and Willy were able to negotiate a price worked for both of them. Well, sort of. Willy really didn't even have any money at all, and he almost wasn't able to purchase the rundown establishmetnt.
What happened to enable William to obtain the building was thus: his old friend, Barry, who was a part of the Rogue, went and petitioned the Craftsmans district chief for a loan of money to "help his friend in need." The loan was eventually given, and Willy was able to say that he was the proud new owner of the shabby old inn.
He certainly had his work cut out for him. He spent three years working under various tradesmen to work for the necessary goods needed to repair the building. Day and night, he'd toil to repair the roof, restore the floor, stabilize the staircase, clean out the rooms and fix the locks (squatters would hole up in the building from time to time...). And in the year 563 H.E., repairs were finished. Some time before this, upon the realization that, sweet Mithros, he was almost done, he'd begun to reach out and try and find suppliers for such things as wine and ale and beer and other sorts of things that inns needed. He built the beds himself - in fact, most everything in the inn he build and carved himself.
It was again his good friend Barry who introduced Willy to a good beverage merchant, and within months of completing the inn (which included the stable that adjoined the inn), the newly-named Laughing Fox Inn and Sleepery was open for business!
Of course, it wasn't as easy as just that. Few people came, and then there was the fact that an inn just wasn't an inn without a proper cook to prepare the food. Willy sent out an ad in search of such a person, and a good many people flocked to him. One of the first and most pitiful cases was that of Rosamund Tanner, a widow and mother of three children. Her husband has died in the wars, and she and her family were starving as a result of the loss of their chief caregiver; she'd been doing odd jobs here and there, but hadn't been able to provide for the family - when the ad had reached her, she'd come desperate, on her last leg. And Willy, being the kind-hearted cove that he was, took her and her family in.
And it was just as well, too, because Rosa could cook far more better than Willy could (best he could manage was beans and something he liked to call Willy's Surprise, which was an edible - if somewhat lacking - mixing pot of vegetables and emats stewed together), and her children provided a free and willing labor force; the deal was thus: in exchange for food, clothes, shelter, and a small stipend, Rosa would cook, clean, launder, and help run the inn. And her children would help in the stable and with the lesser tasks.
Slowly, but surely, William's love-labor began to get off of its feet. Even in poor times, people still wanted to drink, and many a rogue had coin a-plenty to pay for the Fox's services. And slowly, but surely, Willy was able to pay off his debt to the rogue, though he'd always feel an obligation to serve them beyond the normal sleep and tuck.
And now, six years after finally opening, Willy and the Laughing Fox are still open, and not only that, but they're doing rather well. A preferred drinking spot among the smallfolk, the Fox is!
