Profile
♦ Stats
♦ Intro
Volk resides as guardian to the capital of Vysh a tundra-based militaristic state. His name is that of legends, repeated and retold in stories the Vyshinians tell of his onslaught over the centuries. He takes pride in serving his country, and his visciousness is sustained by the elders of Vysh, who equally revel in his war-mongering behaviour. He is embroiled with hatred for their Nafelarian oppressors, and will stop at nothing to ensure that Vysh will return to its former glory.
♦ Details
♦ Notes
- Left eye eye is blind and a scar runs from his brow to his chin
- Broad shoulders and small waist, top heavy due to shoulder guards
- or information about their wardrobe
- or little design trivia tidbits
Volk's primary goal is to restore Vysh to its former glory, regardless of how much bloodshed it takes. He sincerely believes it is possible, and that their oppressors must pay for what they have done to his people.
At his core, Volk is arrogant and brooding with a strong preference for solitude. He is dutiful and loyal to his allies but a powerful adversary for those who oppose his goals. Does not work well in a team in any case, which is perhaps his greatest downfall. Cannot hide strong emotions and will succumb to them - wails in grief, yells in anger, howls with laughter. Even if he does not say what he is thinking, his expression will not hide it.
Arrogant
Brooding
Loyal
Strong
- 'Volk' is Russian for wolf, and would speak with a slavic accent.
- Does not like chickens and will go out of his way to avoid them.
- Unfortunately for the local elves, he has a thing for them.
- Does not know of his father's heritage, but originates from a now defunct country.
- He can read and write, but not particularly well. He knows enough to read battle plans.
Tea
Winter
Taverns
Bespoke Weapons
Nafelar
Authority
Containment
War Meetings
Bilegyr Axe
Prirkal Dagger
Obsidian Armour
Prirkal Bracelet
Axe Proficiency
Horse Riding
Tactics
Elven Nature
Weakness
Weakness
Weakness
Weakness
♦ Subheader
Your name is Volk Pevyan. Vysh is your home, where your name precedes you to this day — they still tell century-old stories of how you cut many a nafelarian down during the war, clad in the proud black and gold armour of your home, armed with nothing but an axe and grief’s rage that still burns within you today. The tales of your onslaught are legendary, your tenacity and ferociousness proved too much for the opposition. You see, you did not just lose your eye in that battle. Your husband was one of the first to fall, his head cleaved straight from his shoulders. It is a little-known tidbit that is often omitted when the stories are re-told of your legacy. It was not the proud purples and golds of the nafelar cloaks that spurred you on to take so many lives, but the harrowing loss of your soulmate right before your eyes. There is still an emptiness within you today, and you doubt it will ever be filled.
♦ Subheader
The elders hold you in equally high esteem - you are gifted bespoke weapons, gilded armour, and the finest breeds of horses. They keep you fed, watered, and you gain a seat in their war room. The commander’s have designs on your future, most notably Vorigan de Limordieu and Ulrik Bratlav. The country is in ruins: its pastures and livestock razed, its people famished, its wildlife untamed and its history stained in blood. Still, the elders are mysteriously always adorned in gold and notably well-fed. Something doesn’t seem right.
Of course, you can leave any time you want… but your leash is short, volchonok.
♦ Youth
Ena, your elven mother, smiles down upon you with tired, grey eyes. She is hungry from the scarcity of food in vysh, but your very existence sustains her will to live. ‘ volk ’, she murmurs, ‘ your name is to be volk ’. To your mother, you have already shown that you have the strength to survive in this world just by being born. You see, vysh is amidst a war with nafelar — a powerful state to the west. You do not know your father, and you never will. You love your mother dearly; she loves you just the same. She teaches you that despite hardship, you can still thrive. You are not always fed, you are not always clean, and you sometimes have to hide when you hear the trampling of nafelar hooves — but you are loved.Nafelar push into vysh from the south. You do not know of it until they are in your village; you know this routine. When nafelar are close, you are to hide. When the clanking of heavy armour above can be heard, and they are dragging the people ( mother? ) from their homes. You do not see her, alive, again ; hate reaps any love you have ever known. You flee your burning village the same night on horseback. It’s a short journey to the nearby barracks, and you do not make much sense when you relay the message that nafelar are inside the borders. The guards don’t know what to do with a fresh orphan so they enlist you into the vyshinian army at thirteen - such is standard for a vyshinian boy of your age.
You’re strong. They always tack on ‘for an elf’ at the end of that sentence with nervous laughter, but you really are strong. You find yourself training with the older mercenaries, and they start to keep a close eye on you. They want to hand you a bow ( it’s fitting for an elf ) but you prefer your axe. At the same time, vysh reaches the peak of its war with nafelar and the future is uncertain. You meet jenadihy prirkal at the barracks - he’s an elven archer of the same age, and you get along great. You learn your hometowns weren’t too far away from one another ; you share the same experiences. He lets you call him jen. You teach one another ; he shows you how to hit a target from over 200 metres away with one arrow, you show him how to overthrow an opponent twice his size with your bare hands. He doesn’t get it at first, but he finally throws you over his shoulder one evening, after dinner. As you stare up at him from the dirt floor, you think you’ve found something worth protecting.
You grow up together in those barracks, and life starts to feel worth it again. You train harder in the hopes that you and jen will reclaim vysh’s glory. You will carve out the life you want... that is, until you get the call to arms.
♦ Early Adulthood
As soon as you are old enough, you marry jen in private, and you think you know why you still fight. Neither of you have loved ones left to fill the rows of seats, but your devotion to one another doesn’t need an audience. You are now volk prirkal. You fight in small battles with nafelar, defending villages and forts. You win every altercation, and you climb the ranks through the victories you claim. You are merciless - even after the enemy surrenders, you make sure not a single soul leaves alive. Volk is becoming a name tied intricately with fear amongst the enemy and the leaders of vysh have their eyes on you for this reason. Vysh falls deeper into war, but you still feel like you can turn the tides for your country. You lead a battalion, Jen as the long-range archer to cover the skies and the flank, and you as the sheer brute at the front. Side by side, you feel unstoppable, and you are yet to be proven otherwise.Within the same quarter of a century, war with nafelar reaches its apex at vseztek, northern vysh. They want to annex pevya, the capital. You and a small army of vyshinians stand in between them. This is your home, your birthrite, your sanctuary. You are at the front of a battalion as their leader, atop your black steed in your heavy armour. You do not know what vysh has done to deserve such a cruel undoing, but you vowed to protect it and all that you love within it.
The purple and gold flags of nafelar spread across the horizon, and its fortunate that this is what you will remember this most of this day. It all happens at once. With the gallop of hooves underfoot and jen drawing his bow to your left, you think that this will be over quick. In a way, it is. A nafelarian knight cleaves jen’s head from his shoulders before you have a chance to draw your axe. Once again ; hate reaps any love you have ever known.
A tightly wound chord within you snaps, and you do not remember the sequence of the following events. You remember the sounds - metal clashing with metal, the squelch of innards as you drive your axe into exposed flesh. The war drums stopped at some point, but you kept going. Lost in a frenzied haze, you do not stop until there is not a single soul left on that battlefield. It feels like days, but its over in mere hours. At some point, your right eye was lacerated - you always did hate wearing a helmet. You look below with the eye that is still able to see the horrors of your actions and you do not like what you see. Your allies are dead, but so is the enemy. The once lush and verdant fields of vseztek are stained in crimson. You find the strength to mount your horse and cast a glance out to pevya; your home, your birthrite, your sanctuary. Its towers stand tall, like a beacon of cold hope in the distance, untouched by nafelar’s hands. You succeeded.
You return alone on horseback, wrought with grief the entire journey; you do not forget its icy grip for as long as you shall live.
You decide you may no longer carry your lover’s name, for it does not belong to you nor what you are about to do. You inherit the title of your home, because it is all you have left, VOLK PEVYAN. Shortly after your victory, you are granted another battalion, and on behalf of your leaders country, you continue to carry out slaughter and destruction for the good of vysh. You enter nafelar from the north east, on the shared border, and you raze nafelar town after town, leaving a trail of ashes in your wake. You are indiscriminate in your terror; women, children, elders. Not one leaves alive. You will kill them all for what they did to you your people.
♦ Mid-life
Eventually, nafelar withdraw from vysh and call for peace, unable to maintain the war you have waged across their lands. You receive the word from an elven courier, a skinny little thing, amidst your travels through the nafelarian borders. Still, volk, you do not tell your battalion of the peacetime until you have already slaughtered the next town over. You never did know when enough was enough.
Upon your return to the capital ( pevya ), you are appointed vysh’s guard dog. The war is over (for now) and you are in high favour with the elders (for now). The people of vysh adore you. Your strength is recounted in tale after tale, many inaccurate, but you care not to correct them. There are rumours of your lineage - an elf with dragon’s blood, an elf with a werewolf’s heart - you realise you do not even know the truth yourself.
Open extra box. My thought was to use to describe where they live - both the location & their actual home (a house, an apartment, out in the wildnerness). Or like... use for something else if you want.
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Ihren Daishii ♦ Vyshinian Dragon
Under his previous keeper’s rule, Ihren was turned against his homeland to set the capital ablaze. Ihren barely survived the attack and was found by Volk in the forests of Vysh. Volk encourages Ihren to cultivate his protective instincts over their homeland and this drive to protect Vysh is a source of affinity between the pair. Although Volk views Ihren as childish and juvenile, he strives to protect him, and conceal his true nature from potential threats.
Valerian ♦ allies
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Character Name ♦ relationship
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Character Name ♦ relationship
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MEIR ♦ romantic partner
The warlock is a recent addition to Volk's life, but a much welcome one. Volk finds a warmth in Meir that he hasn't known for a long, long time. The pair are symbiotic, one not often seen without the other. Volk sees himself as Meir's mate, bringing him pelts to keep him warm in Vysh's harsh winters, and small keepsakes from his travels around the frozen country. Unbeknownst to Volk is that his lover has already died once, but that does not stop him doing all within his power to ensure that Meir is safe.
Jenadihy Prirkal ♦ Late Husband
Jen is Volk's late husband, an elven archer, who was killed during the war with Nafelar over a century ago. Jen had a habit of "collecting", and over time hoarded many keepsakes from their travels over the country together. The most notable was a silver bracelet, which he pored over the history of whilst they sat together at a campfire. Volk never did find that bracelet again, but knows it is somewhere on the field of Vseztek. Jen's death wrought Volk with grief, a pain which he still carries with him to this day.
Character Name ♦ relationship
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Character Name ♦ relationship
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Praesent venenatis purus vitae massa pretium accumsan. Sed ullamcorper justo nulla, in bibendum lacus pulvinar nec. Fusce ex velit, ornare sed ante sit amet, euismod posuere diam. Suspendisse luctus metus at vestibulum maximus.
Vorigan de Limordieu ♦ Commander
Vorigan is Volk's commander, a vampire who's outlook on war is as cold as his blood. He sees Volk as a valuable pawn, and often advises that he stay at Pevya, the capital, should it ever come under attack again. They sometimes get along.
Ulrik Bratlav ♦ Officer
There is friction between the two as they do not always agree on what should be the priority, and Volk does not appreciate being excluded from his plans. Aside from this, Ulrik does not care for elves and finds them to be haughty regardless of their lineage.
Character Name ♦ relationship
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Character Name ♦ relationship
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