A Little More Specific

Quirks: It is important to remember, when dealing with the Brenin Llwyd, that he is not only not used to dealing with people - two thousand plus years with only himself and the grey foxes - but he doesn't like it. He expects to state his will and have it obeyed, and this doesn't really matter if he is speaking to a fellow Lord of the Dark or one of his own minions or one of the wretched little upstart Wild-Magic-flinging Dryads. He has gotten so used to being the only one who matters, in his domain, that it has badly shaken him up, having to deal with fellow Lords and annoying changeling Wild Magicians. What. The. Bleeding JESUS. He will be apt to stating his will and then not giving it another thought until he realizes, upon reflection, that his will has not actually been done because his fellow Lords went "... ... whatever" or the Dryads scampered off after having given him the weirdest damn look.

He does not really understand all of this moving around that people do, either: he himself does not budge from his mountain, and therefore it causes him no little annoyance that the Dryads go helling around all over Snowdonia with little distress. There is just no way he'd leave his mountain and follow them around. No. Way. Therefore, the only way you will ever face him is on his own turf, and it really, really sucks to face down Brenin Llwyd in his place of power.

He also does not understand ... well, anything that normal people do. Even when he had his soul, he didn't really get why people did what they did, and now that he's been on his own solitary watch for more than two millennia, he is at even more of a loss. It's not that he cares, but it seems perfectly plain to him that if you tree-girls have a Cauldron to find, you'd be better off going to find it, and not BOTHERING HIM on his MOUNTAIN. To this end, Dryads are currently replacing Bwca on his List of Things He Hates.

Speaking of the Cauldron, he actually does not give a damn if the Light gets it or the Dark. If the Dark gets it, that's fine. He's all for armies of the dead and zombies running rampant over Wales. It'd be a lot quieter around here, for one thing. But if the Light got the Cauldron instead, so what? It's not one of his duties to guard the Cauldron, and it's not a pretty shiny thing that he covets personally. If you tree-girls want it, go get it, and stop bugging.

Darkest Secret: The Grey King, as a Lord of the Dark, can give ordinary mortals and puny little Dryad-folk some serious hurting, no matter where in time or space he is. However, the forces of Cader Idris itself - this one particular mountain in all the world - act as an amplifier to his lordship over stone: the power of Cader makes him, in his stronghold, stronger even than the Black Rider.

The converse - the secret - is that when he is off his mountain, his strength is halved.

No one ever knows this, save the Black Rider himself. The Grey King will never tell, and he will also never, ever come off his mountain if he can at all help it.

Reactions to Sudden Hugs: "... ... ... *TEN MINUTES LATER* Avalanche on you, avalanche on you, avalanche on your whole family, avalanche on your cow..."

Sin of Anger: Being forced to act, react, or think outside his normal channels. Hell hath no fury like the Brenin Llwyd faced with a shaking-up.

Sin of Envy: It's hard to have envy if you don't have ambition.

Sin of Pride: He is one of the oldest and mightiest of the Lords of the Dark; he is the Grey King, the presence over the land and the majesty of the ancient peaks.

Sin of Gluttony: ... ... ... kidding, right?

Sin of Lust: Despite you horrible reprobates and your insinuations of geo!pr0n; despite your audible wondering of what the Grey King did with Taliesin and all those young men seeking his wisdom (*): the Grey King has no interest in the flesh. It is hard to get excited about something that is going to be dust by tomorrow - geologically speaking - anyway.

Sin of Avarice: The Brenin Llwyd - like the Tylwyth Teg, the Roman god Dis, and other quasi-mythical beings who live underground - loves shinies. You know. Shinies. Like gemstones, gold, silver, and everything else you goddamned surface-dwellers take from mines. Everything coming from ores, mineral veins, and the like is his property, and he will feel absolutely no compunction about taking it away from you. He will hold the grudge against thieves and jewelry-wearers. No one has any business wearing precious stones or metals but him (not that he wears it; he puts it safely back into the ground where he can admire it in context).

Sin of Sloth: He does not sleep; personifications of Evil rarely do. However, he is very - ah - sedentary in his habits, and such is his mind that he will never ever act on his own: he only reacts.

Virtue of Faith: ... ... ... ... ... ... ... There is the Dark, and what the Dark will swallow and engulf as time passes. What else is there to believe?

Virtue of Hope: He has no hope; he has only the knowledge, sure as rocks and gravity, that the Dark is Rising, and - Rising - will swallow you all.

Virtue of Charity: He does not give something for nothing, but such is his pride and his vanity that he will on occasion grant the boon of permitting an opponent to withdraw, cf. Will.

Virtue of Fortitude: If you want someone to stand around being immovable and rocklike, he's your man.

Virtue of Justice: The grey and the Dark will cover everyone equally, yes.

Virtue of Temperance: Black balances white: excesses are for rude little plebeians like Bwca.

Virtue of Prudence: Like he's gotten to be where he is today by taking chances or going for the new options.

*They played Scrabble.