Vaelgor

[Vaelgor]

Vaelgor

The Vengeful Mane

Race: Raionan
Date of Birth: 18th Saun, year unknown (Raionan things)
Age: 141 arcs old
Languages: Common (Fluent), Atvian (Broken)

[Vaelgor]

Personality

"Corruption spread a long time ago. I'll do my part to weed it out now."

A cold and callous man, Vaelgor is closed off from those around him, especially mortals who embody all the beliefs he hates. Politicians, corrupt officials, thugs and bandits all belong in the same ditch in the ground. Anyone who uses others for their own gain, walks all over people for some benefit or lies to get to where they are. Corruption toppled his empire once, left him locked away in a world of dreams while his loved ones aged and died. Never again.

Appearance

"I'm no hero. But the heroes? They're only ever one mistake away from being me."

Once a golden mane, now a darker brown fur, Vaelgor has shifted from his once noble look to a darker and more imposing appearance from the years of aging and the physical strain. His body is chiselled from the combat experience, both before entering the dream world and more recently, and he stands at the height of 7’11”. His mane is long and often braided, and his face is littered with scars from those who fight back. The Raionan’s eyes are a deep, low orange and he often runs on all fours where possible, like a feral animal on the hunt.

[Vaelgor]

History - Pre-stasis

"Once, their shield..."

Created by the goddess Daia to be a sworn protector of the people of Idalos, Vaelgor was a proud and noble Raionan from his youngest days. Mother and father blessed him with training of exceptional quality, introduced him to the many young of other races and showed him the world for what it was. Unity. Cohesion. People standing side by side in a loyalty unbreaking. It was perfect. A beautiful creation that Vaelgor was raised and made to protect.

As he aged through the years, Vaelgor continued to train and practice, learning how to endure hits and fight so that he may protect the mortals not from one another - but from any outside threat. He stood in the streets beside any mortal who wanted to, talking and laughing, sharing stories and learning of the world from those who stood beside him. It was a childhood one could only dream of. A thousand friendly faces, each willing to greet him in kindness. Ballads sung in honour of unity and cohesion, verses like ‘The Lions roar, the shields fall, peace and joy be with us all’.

But as each Arc passed, far into his adulthood, so too did those memories.

The friends he had grown up with, and begun protecting the town with, had continued to stay by his side. Ashari, a fellow Leonin, was inseparable from him and the two often posted up together and trained with one another. A friendship that spanned over a hundred arcs. But as things started to change, so too did his ties.

Corruption began slowly. Thieves, taking what they wanted out of some strange envy and spite. People unhappy with one another broke into fights. Laws that were followed once with joy fell apart into ruin and friendships fell apart. Walls were built in the claim of keeping out threats, yet suddenly separated those of ‘value’ from one another, and as famine started to spread in the harder seasons so too did the acts of violence and the boldness of the ones committing them. It was barbaric, something the Raionan had never seen before.

Vaelgor’s actions led him to turn to more brutal methods of protection. Those who were found mugging another would swiftly be taken down, be it with the head of an axe or the sharp claws on the Raionan’s paws. Thieves were dragged by their hair to a cell for justice and murderers were given no trial. For what else could a desperate protector do to keep his people safe than to remove the threat of it all? Even his own companions saw the darkness building in him and slowly he pushed them away in favour of duty.

During one of those trials, at the age of 130, Vaelgor rushed forward to save a woman who was being accosted by two men before they could take her down an alley - catching the act before it could progress. The two men tried to run, neither given the chance to escape as Vaelgor placed himself between the woman and them, cutting down both with intimidating ease. But the human woman behind him wasn’t intimidated. She was grateful. Wrapping her arms around his thick fur, she thanked him for what he had done and asked that he walk her home - which he obliged.

Some arcs later, the two had made their relationship official, and some arcs more and they were married. Each was infatuated with the other, and despite his extreme approaches to crime, the frightened woman supported it. If it meant she could travel safely at night without fear it was better than the alternatives. Those who did not wish to suffer from crimes and violence, at least some, supported the Raionan who had made a stand. They were, after all, sworn protectors.

So when the day came of Daia’s death, and Vaelgor found himself taken away, his heart tore in his chest.

He had kissed her goodnight. Tucked into sleep beside her. Then, awoken here, dressed, stood before Ralaith himself. Told that they would be taken away to another place to be safe, as Daia had been slain by Mortals, and that she had willed for them to be protected in her last moments. Deep rage burned inside Vaelgor’s chest in that moment. Not for his Immortal, who had given him life. Not for the Immortal of Time that sought to protect them. But for Mortals as a whole. Those who had been cared for directly by Daia for as long as he could recall, those who had been given chances to better, given every opportunity to remain on the noble path.

But they had strayed.

History - Post-stasis

"Now, the executioner."

The rest was sleep. Arcs, decades, millennia all passed - and Vaelgor rest. Yet deep within his comatose-like state, the anger only brewed. A part of him was afraid that he might never wake again, because of what the mortals had done. So when the trial came he did? When he was brought back into the world and saw the time that had passed? He travelled to the place of his old home - only to find it barren. Not a trace left of what had been, replaced by a road and tavern in the middle of nowhere. With humans, biqaj and other such species inside laughing in drunken unison. Not a trace of the world he had left behind in sight…

Besides the stain that had ruined it.

Excusing himself before his anger got the better of him, Vaelgor set out on the road to make his way to the nearest city, wanting to see what had become of this place in his absence. But all of his instincts of humanity remained true once again. As he started to set up camp in the night, his eyes caught a glimpse of a blade in the dark, a Biqaj man stepping forward with a smirk on his face.

“Look here boys. One ugly fucker, ay?”

Vaelgor let out a low and angry snarl. Was this what his world had become? The place he was designed to protect, destined to give his life for? Thugs and scoundrels in the night, sneaking up on a man alone to take his life and rob him of his valuables. Backstabbing cowards too afraid to fight in the light of day. So as the man stepped forward, his friends starting to leave the shrubbery, Vaelgor lunged for his axe.

In a hefty swing the closest of the bandits dropped, a heavy weight to the swing, before he turned to swipe at another. One by one, the bandits rushed forward. One by one, they fell. The swings powered by a millennia of anger. Rage the likes of which Idalos had not seen in some time. With one left on the floor, blood pouring from a wound in his leg, Vaelgor’s snarl continued as he pressed forward slowly, the man crawling and pleading for mercy.

“So this is what we died for? Snivelling rats skulking in the night. Too afraid of what you might see in the light to face what you have done” his voice broke in the anger, his low voice raising into a snarl halfway through. “You had everything. Everything! Every gift you could have been given. Every luxury you could have wanted. And what did you do?”

Then, with a hefty swing of his axe down onto the man, Vaelgor let out a loud roar with all his might. “Killed the Immortal who loved you. Tore one another apart. Built your empires on a vile LIE”. One swing, then another, then a third - before the man was thoroughly dead. Heavy breathing was all that remained of the massacre, the Raionan’s low snarls breaking into each breath.

That trial he knew this world had not changed for the better, but the worse.

After some time travelling, dealing with a small number of issues on the way, Vaelgor found himself in the Eternal Empire. A grand place, one made up of a large landmass and a militarised city. The kind that Vaelgor wanted to see. A large portion of his time was spent there, Arcs spent learning some of the language and the foundations of their beliefs, of Raskalarn and how the Empire dealt with crime. A part of him considered joining their war for a moment. Becoming a part of the Empire. But it was not his calling. Fighting some mortal war just to claim more land for an empire. So he left, taking the teachings of the Empire and Raskalarn with him. The Empire may not be his home, nor was it the place he could make the change he wished to. But it was a start. A foundation of which to build the world he wanted.

So he set his sights elsewhere.

[Vaelgor]

Belongings

"A thousand axes have been in these hands."

Heirloom: Purple Apatite Necklace, made of Gold. A gift for his wife once upon a time, remaining close to his chest in stasis, and appearing in his hand when he re-entered the world.

Average Serrated Broadaxe x1
Average Handaxes x3
Masterwork Leather Armour x1

Housing

"Nobody should live long enough to see their home turned to rubble."

A comfortable house in the Eternal Empire, well-sized for a man who has been gone for as long as Vaelgor has. With comfortable furniture, the house is mostly the same as when he bought it, hardly one for decorating or caring about things so menial as nice furniture.

[Vaelgor]

Blessings and Marks

"I worshipped a God once. She failed. Onto harsher measures."

None yet - but Rasky, wya? <3