Legends of Belariath
Dakral
A massive and hulking Wolven specimen this male is. He is massive, even for his race, standing at 2.7 meters, and built around a powerfull frame. He seems to be raather heavy, some 150 kilos, though his skin is taught and firm, wrapped around his muscular form, his entire wieght seeming to be of muscle. His fur is a lusterous obsidial color, rich and full in texture, seemingly well taken care of and groomed. His fur, while naturallly black, is dyed in various places, blood red, crimson tribal symbols mark his forearms and thighs. While the symbols on his limbs are colored onto his fur, they seem almost pernament and designed with stunning detail, as if magical by nature, going down all the way to the root and not a single black hair visible on them. The hair on his head is the same color as his fur, and seems to blend in with it, only being slightly longer than the actuall fur. His eyes are dark and void, that of a born killer, glancing about him quickly and cautiously, taking in his surroundings and acessing them. Out from under his eyes stretches his muzzle, tipped by a small black nose, wet at the tip and cold, rather sensetive from the way he sniffs the air. Pearly white fangs are visible from between his lips, his other teeth tucked away in his mouth, all razor sharp and intimidating.
About his neck there hangs a rather greusome sight. A charm necklace no doubt, but sickening to some. A black, obsidian pendant, carved in the shape of a fang hangs from a a string, a strip of tanned leather or cured intestine, though its origin not readily discernable. The strip of material is intertwined with piees of bone, which help add to its integrity. The most disturbing part of this charm are perhaps the theeth that decorate it, hanging on both sides of the center fang along the length of the material, trophies of his victims and prey no doubt.
He wears a heavy hide armour about his body, studded with dull metallic spikes. The armour is coloured in earthy tones, assisting at blending in in the forest as it wraps around his muscular form tightly. A heavy woolen cloak is draped over his shoulders, trimmed at the edges with fine animal fur and help together with a golden chain over his chest as it flows over his broad shoulders. He wears nothing on his feet, wearing merely stips of leather that come off his his heavy studded leather greaves which overlap with his pants, and wrap about his foorpaws, leaving the foorpads and heavy claws uncovered. Heavy leather reinforced bracers on his arms, his whole attire being of the same drab colors, out or practicality. Aside from the usual clothing items, he often wears several other charms, namely two leather bands, emblazoned with tribal symbols and decorated with beads, feathers and bits of bone, one worn about his left bicep, the other around his right ankle. Even though his large form, he moves around silently and gluidly, his actions reflecting his predatory grace, which is further reflected by the weaponry he usually caries, a large, curved polished steel dagger, which is usually tucked in his belt and a formidible spear on his back, with a serrated mythril tip with several feathers at its base and intricate claw engraved wolvn runes down its shaft.
Dakral is a prime example of noble and perfect breeding. He was the first born to the Alpha male of his pack and his fathers prime mate. As a result of the responsilylity he was born to, he was trained as a warrior and a leader from birth. Embracing his destiny to succede his father and lead the pack, he learned the ways of the forest, and even though he wast strong and well fitted for pure brute force combat, he always seemed to put more effort in stealth and tactics, always going into a fight with a well developed plan of action based upon the weakenesses and strenghts of his opponent that he observed. As he was reared, he was always heald in high regard and respeced, and loved by his parents, or so he thought.
During his stay with his father's pack he also learned many aspects of civilized society and culture. This was at his father's rquest, he was to lead the pack and would have to deal with many different cultures, and sometimes peacefull resolutions might be required, even as they may be against the nature of the wolven, and in the minds of some, below them. Nontheless, he learned and studied as the pack roamed. Most of his lessons came from a high elf teacher, captured during a raid on a random village, originally taken captive mearly because the elf amidst a whoely human village caught the pack's curiosity, and as such they spared the elf and dragged her along with them while the others were slaughtered. The elf, once her purpose in the village had been revealed, was given to the young wolven as a gift, and she served a variety of uses in his eager little claws. First and foremost she was a teacher to him, as a result of her lessons he became fluent in Common, speaking it perfectly, even learning to compensate for the disruption of speach caused by his canines, even learning how to read and write. Her lessons also made him familiar with the Imperial culture, its traditions and laws, as well as picking some of the leven tongue from her. She would also be used to teach him something else, how to mate. He would ravage the girl frequently, training how to make use of females, filling the chill northern night air with her screams of pleasure and pain. The only other use she would serve would be a vent for his anger, and that would ultimately lead to her demise, as he clawed her to death one day after becoming disgruntled with one of his fathers decisions.
His seperation from the pack began when his own pack battled with a rival one over a bit of territory. He didnt play much of a role in the actual fighting as he was still young and inexperianced, and of too high a caste to be risked over a petty border dispute. Even though he didn't play an active fighting role, he observed and learned from it, even giving his father a few tips and pointers every so often. As the small war grew to a close, his pack emerged vitorious and forced the others to submit. His downfall as the heir to his own pack came about when the others, in their defeat, sent a young lass, almost a mere pup, of virtue as tribute. He became enthralled with the girl, and wished to keep her as her own, contrary to his fathers orders to have her raped and slain. When he confronted his father, he was scoffed at, his wish denied as his father claimed her to be below him and not worth his time, though The young Wolven wouldnt back down, and actually raised his weapon agaisnt his father in his determination. He was of course, easily and quickly dispatched by the experianced Alpha male. His father was shamed by such a display of disrespect and rash judgment, and as such not worthy of his name and position. Having been disowned by his pack, he wanders southwards in the direction of Nanthalion, enduring the cold and living off the land as he wander off in shame and in the hopes of starting his own pack.
Dakral's temperment is a bit of a paradox, it has as many faces as the moon. For a wolven, he has amazing controll over his emotions, being able to stay calm in near any situation of he so wishes, or in similar cases release his rage on anything he could chose to. As a result of this 'control' his personality fluctuates, from that of a brutal savage to one of a playful pup, and is subject to change without notice. This control of his feeling and emotions was taught to him by his father before he left the pack, the reasoning behind it wise and truthfull, to be able to catch ones prey off guard, and to keep out of unecessary trouble, where ones pride would normally predominate. This training was one of the final lessons he recieved in his preparation to take over the pack, and was done so to aid in combat and in negotiation, but was slightly cut short with his sudden desertion of the pack. Due to his early leave, his personality is a bit unstable, still showing bits of wolven pride and arrogance at times, and also the misperception of certain situations.
Upon coming to the lands of Belariath, the wolf was a bit suprised with what he saw there, this supposedly 'civilised' land was no more so than the wild regions of the north where the packs roamed freely and took whatever they could get thair hands on. Somewhat relieved with the lax restrictions in this place, only from time to time enforced by the imperial guard, he felt right at home. The wolf, not much older than a pup still, would begin to rally and organize his kin, those that would be willing, beggining to form a small pack, albeit renegade, unsanctioned by the elders, but he didnt seem to mind and began to draw support from younger and older wolves alike.
To say the wolf began to feel right at home would be rather an understatment to say the least, without the oversight of elders in these lands, the young Dakral was free to run wild and do as he pleased, within the sparce and sporadicly enforced laws of the young empire. Upon first stepping into the inn, the musky smell of sex filled his nostrils, creating almost a haze upon his eyes as he began to take almost anything that came his way, of the female variety at least, with consent or by force, it didnt matter to him as he quickly turned into a hulking ravenous beast. He would come to roam the lands, his mind filled with lust, and often accompanied with his wolven brothers as they hunted suitible prey, anything they could find to sate their lewd hunger. Eventually He became intrigued with the concept of lsavery, the ability to own another being, another soul came to intrigue him, filling the wolven's mind with new ideas, new greed, new needs to be saited as he struck out to make claims of his own, his own pets to bend to his will and urges.