Hunt's Characters-New chars-Reidr and Karazule{New Catagory! Humanoids}

[Hunt]

Canines
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Geirrtonn

Name meaning:Spear Tooth
Rank: Konungr (aka alpha)
Mate:None
Pups:None
Nickname:Geir
Personality: Geir is generally cool and laid back, though it is hard to anger him with words if you
 threaten his pack he will bare his fangs and if needed fight you. Geir never backs down from a
fight presented to him, no matter how far the odds are from his favor. Geir loves warfare and
battle. In the heat of battle he is another wolf entirely, he is a blood thirsty fiend. Geir never
deals out a threat he is unwilling to do. He can be quite the diplomat when he wants to be.
Story: Geir has always been a warrior. It was said he was born in the heat of battle. His mother
 and father were in the fallen pack known to be the Bjorn Munr pack. It was the pack's final
battle that Geir was born in, the battle with the Farbjodr Valdyrs. The Bjorn fought with to the
 bitter end, not one ran from their enemies. The Bjorn wolves knew not the word surrender, for
 they never sued it, in asking or doing. They took no prisoners and showed no mercy to their
enemies. The Farbjodr had not these principles, but they had numbers on their side. The Bjorn
 left the Farbjodr pack crippled after their battle, only having a tenth of the wolves they had at
 the start, but none the less they won. The battle lasted for days until Geir's parents were the
 only wolves remaining on the side of the Bjorn, his mother was struck, within a inch of her life.
 She knew she was going to die in that moment, but that did not mean that she could not try to
 save the young growing in her womb. His father had to rip her open to save his litter, though
only Geir survived the process. His father hid the pup, his chance for life was slim to none without
 his mother to nurse him, but it was better then none. He father then attacked once more the
Farbjodr and led them away from Geir. Geir then was found by an old she wolf named Visskona.
 She nursed Geir until he was old enough to eat meat, and she taught him all she knew in the
 art of battle. By the time that Geir had become a year old the Visskona had passed on. Geir was
 again on his own. It was then that the harsh lands of the North forged him into the fearless
warrior he is now. He grew into a powerful hunter as well, and never having to share he grew of
 massive size. The humans thought he was not natural. They thought he was part of Fenrir's
 prodigy. Many warriors and hunters sought him out, they wanted his hide to boast in their dens
of stone and wood. Geir fought them of each time. Soon the humans changed their pursuit, rather
 then try to slay him they tried to capture him. He fought them off countless times but eventually
 was subdued. They carried him in a iron cage, and only let him out in secluded areas. They tried
 keeping him in with their dogs once, but the next day found nothing but the bodies of the hounds
 beside the brute. Months later a war broke out, and they released Geir when the battle seemed
lost. Though he did not know it he turned the battle in the favor of his captors by ripping through
 the ranks of their enemies. After he tore through dozens of their warriors no man dared to stand
 in his way as he bounded away, back into the forest. It was then that he decided upon starting
a pack of his own. No longer did he wish to be alone. So he founded the pack and called it Vaskr
Valdyrs, for his pack would be built upon wolves like him, brave wolves, strong wolves.
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This is the alpha type character in a new RP that I am starting. The pack is called the Vaskr
Valdyrs. It means Brave Wolves in old norse. If anyone is interested in joining then you can sign
 up on the site, http://vaskrvaldyrs.webs.com currently I do not have the group made in feralheart
 but I will soon. Right now Im focused on writing more lore on the pack it's self.
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Ghost

Appearance:Ghost has a snow white pelt and seems to be a living mound of snow. This is good
considering he lives where is snows all year round. He has blood red eyes that tell tales of caution.
 Ghost is a wolf pup at the moment. He was the runt of his litter.

Personality:Ghost is the quiet type. He never growls, snarls, or really shows any sign of aggression.
 If you do however manage to anger him he will lunge at you without warning. Depending on how
much you anger him depends on how much he will try to hurt you. Though he knows how to talk he
 does unless he has to. He prefers to show you things with actions. Ghost loves the snow, in the
 harsh land in which he has always lived alone in it has been his ally, as well as his enemy. To keep
 warm Ghost buries himself in the snow, as odd as it may sound it works. The snow around him acts
 like an igloo and traps his body heat inside it's walls.

Story: Ghost is the runt of his little and a albino pup. His siblings were all grey, black, and brown but
 not Ghost, he was pure white. His siblings had beautiful eyes that you could fall into, but not Ghost,
 Ghost has deep blood red eyes that tell of caution, and of warning.  His mother and father abandoned
 him after he was old enough to see, and to walk. They left him on his own and he has been on his
own ever since. He barley survived until he could hunt for himself by scavenging. Back then he was
always hungry, always on the brink of death. One day though he saw another wolf fall into a trap, this
 clicked something in his head. Though some might say his way of hunting is odd, this does not matter
to Ghost, his way of hunting is what works. What he does is he hides under the snow next to a patch
of vegetation that he knows small prey eats and he waits. Some times for hours, but the moment he
see's something small enough for him to kill he lunged for it. Ghost never stays in one place for long,
he is always traveling. He does not leave deep tracks in the snow, due to his weight, and he knows
how to hide the light one he make if needed by dragging his tail along the snow. He often will hang
around a pack's den, but he is rarely noticed in his little mound. He does not leave a very strong scent,
 and once he is buried in the snow his scent is trapped under it. Ghost does not seek conversations,
 and they rarely come to him so when he does talk to others he can be quite strange, though most of
 the time he does mean well and try, but he simply does not know how to interact.
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Hey people, I'm here again with another one of my charies. This time though he is a pup. Feedback
is of course welcomed. I hope you guys like him ^_^ I got the inspiration from Game of Thrones, as
well as the name. If you havn't watched it I would recommend it, however just a fair warning the show
is rather violent and has nudity, so for all you kiddos out there, or peeps that just don't like that type of
 show, stay away.
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Shrik

Name:Sharvic
Nickname:Shrik
Rank:N/A
Pack:None
Mate:None
Pups:None
Breed:Mutt
Age:5 years
Personality: Shrik is a very laid back mutt, he is also very cunning. He never will attack you head
on, not unless it's part of a larger plot. Though he is a small dog, that does not make him any less
powerful, or deadly. He rarely approaches strangers however if he is called out he is not one to run
 from a fight. Once you get to know him though he can be a kind, and caring dog.
Story: Shrik was born on the cold harsh streets of human society. If surviving as a street dog wasn't
 hard enough he was also the runt of his litter. His litter-mates always tormented him, they stole his
food, and gave him many scars. Shrik endured this for most of his pup-hood, until one day when he
finally lost his temper. He lunged out at one of his antagonists and killed him. He remembers ever
night there after standing there, with his brother's body at his feet and his blood dripping from him
 muzzle. His pack then shunned him from it. He learned the ins and outs of of street life. He learned
 which stores to go to for easy meals, and which ones to stay away from. Not yet though had his
 cunning developed, for he hadn't need of it. He did not quite understand which cars to stay away
 from, and as such he did not yet know to stay away from dog catcher's cars. He learned the hard
way, and was thrown into the pound. Though he had learned his lesson of the cars, it had been too
late. Unlike so many others in the pound that had been taken away he was not taken to be put down,
or given to loving hands. No, he was given to a group of men specializing in the trade of fight dogs.
Shrik was a medium sized dog, and was scrawny as could be but they saw a dog that might be of
some entertainment, but most of all they saw his cheap price. So he was taken by these men, and
 put in what they called the pit. Shrik was rather confused at first, he did not understand what he
was to do in this "pit" all that was there was him, and another dog. The other dog looked to be about
Shrik's size, but he was obviously much more built then he was. The dog lunged at Shrik the moment
the gate had closed behind him. Shrik was shocked, but instinct took over and he dodged the other
dog's attack. Unlike the other dog Shrik waited patiently, dodging his antagonist's attacks and deciding
 upon what to do. After a while the other dog grew furious, his attacks became sloppy and misplaced in
 his utter rage. That was when Shrik finally struck him, the brute was shocked, so many times before
had he lunged at the dog and so many time before he hadn't the slightest hint of wanting to fight back,
 yet now he
 felt Shrik's jaws around his throat. Shrik threw down the corpse and looked around at the cheering
 and wooting humans, he now knew what his purpose was here. He may not have liked it but he was
 to send many more dog's like this to their graves. For four more years he thrived in the pits, he had
grown into a dog to be feared. He had a well built figure, despite his small size, and he was quick on
his feet. He also had also learned to use cunning just as much as fervor, few dog's that had fought him
ever learned to tell the tale. His body became littered in scars, and his his head as well. Eventually though
 the dog fighting club was shut down, and the dogs taken away. Shrik however was not willing to come
once he had been taken from his kennel, he had lost his faith in humans. He snarled at them and darted
off, back into the streets. He continued to travel in them for a while, until he found what looked to him like
a park. However this place was no park, this was the great unknown, it was a forest. Shrik eagerly ran into
 it. His world was redefined that day, he no longer was in a place of simplicity. Now he was in a even
harsher world then he had left. He learned to be more weary then he had been, he also learned how to
hunt. The forest polished his figure, he no longer looked simply like a dog built for nothing other then
fighting, he had the look of a dog built for survival. He learned of wolves, and what their roles were in the
forest. He learned they were creatures to be weary of and to submit rather then bare teeth at. Though he
 had fought and won many battles with wolves in the pits he was not eager to fight with them again, for
these wolves did not fight alone. He saw them as they hunted and he knew that attacking one would result
 in similar consequence. So he left the creatures alone, to do as they wished. And since then he had been
 on his own, no longer the creature we know as a dog. Maybe in breed, maybe in body, but he acts far
more like a wolf then any dog we know today.
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Jarok

   The Karak, a vile pack where few wolves survive. The Karak begin their training at six moons.
These pups are given nothing but scraps from their elders, and as such they have to learn to feed themselves.
 However being of their size there is little they are large enough to hunt, so they either starve or resort to more
 grotesque methods. Those methods I speak of are cannibalism. Not one shred of meat passes by these pups,
 wolf flesh or otherwise. After a year of this they are usually old enough to hunt for themselves, by this time
their real training begins. The elders see to it that those that had survived are strong. To do this they put these
 wolves' bodies to their limits. A few that show promise are then taught basic battle tactics. After a year and a
half of this they are put into the battlefield. The Karak is almost always in a war. Their howls strike fear into
the hearts of their enemies, at least those that know of them. For those that do know of the Karak know of
 their fighting style, ripping gnashing, the Karak care not for honor, they only care for the thrill of war. Their
howls do not sound of a average wolf, they sound more of a growl echoing in the winds, warning all who
hear of it of the Karak's coming.
  Jarok was one of these pups, however he unlike most of the other pups, did not have a taste for wolf
flesh, yet still as a pup he learned to eat it. He grew with the training of the Karak as all other pups did.
 He was given the title Morohtar, which in the Karak was a great honor. The Morohtar was a title only
given to few wolves in the Karak. They were the alpha's chosen warriors. They took their orders directly
from the alpha, and acted as his fangs and claws in battle.
  Jarok is a large wolf, he towers over most other wolves. He has a jet black pelt that seems to be
woven of shadows. His body is littered with scars from battles. His eyes are like round sapphires. He
scents of blood, no mater how many times he is washed the scent lingers. The smell haunts his steps,
 as if all the beings he had slain refused to give him rest.
  After his ,sixth year in this world he decided to leave the Karak. Despite all he had earned among them
 it was no longer enough to bind him. He felt as if something was missing, something that warfare could
no longer replace. So he set off on his own, to find this thing his soul yearned for so desperate. Ever since
he has been traversing the plains, searching for something, yet never knowing what it was that he searched
 for.
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Felines
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Vaskr

Name:Vaskr
Name Meaning:Brave
Mate: He's a cub...
Crush:None... yet.
Cubs:Look up at the picture, think about that question

Personality: Vaskr is a head strong cub, and never will back down from a
 fight. He is very mischievous, he tried to be nice though. Well, most of the
 time at least, he does love the occasional prank. He loves to chase small
things, and to play. He has few friends he can truely say that he loves like
 family, and no family of his own. Those that do worm their way into this
cub's heart though he would fight for to the death if needed. He has learned
 to fight, be it not well in general terms, but good for his age.

Story: Vaskr has been a loner for almost all of his life. He barely remembers
 his mother. The one thing he has never forgotten of her was gazing into
her lifeless eyes, he did not understand at the time what had happened but
 she had died. He soon was shunned from his pride, for a new male had
taken the position of leader. He was just old enough to be weened off milk
 at the time. He later found that the reason his mother had died was because
 of her utter refusal to give him up to her new king. The other lionesses,
which Vaskr had hated for shunning him, he found to be not worthy of the
hatred he had bestowed on him. He had at one time thought they were simply
 cruel, but after he had found out about how his mother was killed he soon
 redirected this hate. He does not remember her face any more, but he does
 remember the feelings he had for her, his mother had been the only creature
 that he truly loved. Though he has never forgotten about what happened,
 he has cast that past behind him. He left the territory of the pride lands for
 good, to seek out his own future. He learned how to hunt, be it only small
game that most lions would pass up, and how to scavenge. He also learned
what signs to watch for when looking for a meal. He learned to defend himself
against some of the smaller creatures that would pick a fight with him. He
tries to stay away from fights, but if one does venture to him he does not
 run, even if the fight would mean his demise. He has forgone his search
for a pride, as it has proven fruitless up to this point. He had joined a few,
 but left them soon after. They treated him as wolves would a omega, and
 Vaskr refused to tolerate it. He had no ties to the prides, and had less food
 most times then he would on his own. The only redeeming feature would have
 been protection, and if they had not been worse then what had stalked him in
 the woods he would have stayed due to it. But as they did not he did not stay,
 instead he set off to live on his own. He has decided that if he does join a pride,
 that it would be one that he is welcomed into, and not one that he asks to be
let into.
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As I was looking through the other characters I had posted I realized
something, they were all wolves. And since I do not want to leave out
any of my other characters (they get jealous...) I've
 decided to add Vaskr, one of my cutest, and evilest cubs.

[Hunt]

Canines
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Name:Azure
NickNames:Azu, Warg
Mate:Charlotte
Pups:No
Age:39 Moons (13 wolf years aka WY)
Family: Mother:Never Known-Father: Andi Died 5 WY's ago-Siblings:None

Appearance:Azu is a well built wolf, being a nomad in the northern lands takes it's tole on one's body. His muscles have grown thick and hard from the toil of living in the northern lands. He stands taller then most wolves, and to the lazy eye could appear to have a mane of fur surrounding his upper body. This mane of muscle is part of what earned him the nickname of warg.

Personality:Azu is a kind wolf at heart, even if his ways may seem rough to some. He prefers to talk rather then fight with wolves that approach him, however if they threaten his loved ones he will not hesitate to launch himself into battle. Once the heat of battle seeks into this brute all the kindness that he normally has drains out of him. Azu fades back out of the brute and Warg takes over. Once Warg if released scarce few wolves are able to approach him without feeling his fangs. Only Charlotte has ever done this and lived to tell the tale.

Background: Azu was born in the unforgiving lands of the north. His father, Andi, was the only family he knew for most of his life. They shared a bittersweet relationship through out Azu's life. His father pressed Azu to work since he was of young age. Pointless tasks really, pulling a log, branch, or whatnot behind them as they travelled. Azu could never understand why it was that his father was doing this. He had thought at the time that his father bore some ill will to him, none the less he did these tasks. By his 18th moon he realized the logic in his father's tasks. It was at the time the two were traveling by a wolf pack, he looked upon the wolves and realized just how much larger he was then they. Few neared his size, and those that did were built more of fat then they were of muscle. He took a knew respect for his father then. They continued to travel with one another for 6 more moons. Azu's father had been resting at the time, and Azu was out hunting. A cannibalistic pack of canines beset themselves upon Andi while Azu was away. When Azu returned he found his father near death. Azu tried his hand at medical pretexts to attempt to save his father, but to no avail. His father was too far gone, and he knew too little of the practice. From then on he took it upon himself to teach himself in the ways of medical practices. He helped many faes and brutes in his pursuit for knowledge, after he had grown adept he picked up a satchel which he now fills with various herbs he finds. Shortly after his 36th name day he found Charlotte near to death. Normally he would have passed her by, she was too far gone and saving her would be near impossible. But he caught the scent of the mutts that killed his father on her, he could not bring himself to let another die from the pack he called the Illr (meaning evil in norse). So he did attempt to save her, at first it was a simple relationship shared between them, that of doctor and patient. But after the fae healed they took to traveling together. For a time they lived in the norse lands that the two had been raised in. Until Char's son, Zero, grew enraged at his mother when she sided with another pack. The pack was little help to her, mearly acting as a shield of wolves to detour her son from attacking her. Azu and the fae ran off, to find a land that Zero could not reach them at. They holed up in a cave, thinking they were safe. However they were followed by Zero's pack. So the two wolves ran deeper into the cave until they lost the wolves. The two became hopelessly lost, but they pressed on in desperation. Until at last they came out of the cave, they came into a valley that seemed long forgotten. The land was fertile, and game a plenty. The two thought they had found a paradise, so they decided that this would be there home, their land. Their joy would not be that for long, for this 'paradise' was also shared by the Illr. Azu and Char refused to leave. They would not give up what they found, especially not to them. So they faught with the Illr. it was a gorilla war, two wolves against a pack of savages. But the two learned to fight in this style, attacking them where they could and retreating. The Illr's mutts were not strong, not on their own. Scarce few of them posed much of a challenge for the two, it was only the Illr's wolves that they had to fear.

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Valdyr

NickNames:Vally, Val, Vald

Gender:Male

S/O:Heterosexual

Mate:None

Family:None (That he knows of.)

Pups:None

Age:16 (Wolf Years)

Appearance: Val is a dark wolf, with blood red eyes. His claws are black,
 with hints of red from past kills. His fur is long, and flowing. His body is
littered with scars from past battles, but most of them are hidden under
 his dark coat. His tail is black, but towards the tip it is white. His ears are
 ripped, and torn from past battles, or so he assumes. (Screen shot will come soon)

Personality:Val is a brave wolf, he never backs down from a fight even if
he knows it would mean his life. He loves the heat of battle, and to hunt.
He can show compassion, but rarely will do so. When he does though
it is generally toward those close to him, or to those that he feels a
debt is owed.

Story: Val awoke on Ember Island's banks a month ago. Some might say
was born on that shore, for that is his oldest memory. He awoke knowing
only a name, his name, Valdyr. He knew not how, or why, he was on this,
island, but he knew he could not leave it. One thing he quickly learned was
he has a capacity to kill. He hunts often, but rarely to quench his hunger,
he hunts for sport most times. He knows not how, but he knows that battle,
is one of the few things he is good at, one of the things he lives for. Though
he is not always aggressive toward others, he is never afraid to bare fang
against another. He tries to suppress his, urges, to kill by taking the lives of
other creatures beside his own kin, some times to avail, some times not. He
has always had a disliking for those tamed by the humans, as well as a
disliking for the humans. He does not often remember his past, but when he
does it's jumbled, and makes his head ache. Often sending him sprawling on
the ground.

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Feels good to be posting again, well this is the Hunt, and I'm sorry I havn't been posting chars for a bit, I've been dealing with school, life, ect ect (as well as a few RPs ^^) Anyway, this guy is my first amnesiac that I've tried to RP as. I ended up making him because I found a beautiful public map called Ember Island
http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=Ember+Island+Feral+Heart#/d5khtdu which you can download at the link provided. And fyi, as I've had plenty of people fumble with the instillation put the exports folder in the main folder and the rest in media. (It'll make sense once you download it.)

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Name:Fenik
Family:None Living
Age:5 years
Mate:None
Crush:None
Pack:Benevolent Wolf Pack
Rank: Fighter II
Story:Fenik was born in a pack known as the Tomok.
 They were a proud warrior like pack, and constantly
 searched for enemies. Many packs fell before their
might before one prevailed, the Gorn, a pack of vile
 cannibalistic wolves. Fenik joined his pack's warriors
 when he was two years of age, at the time when they
 were fighting the Gorn. He soon became appalled by
 their likes, the likes of cannibals, as most of his brethren
 were killed, and eaten alive before him. He fought for his
 birth pack for two long years against the Gorn, but
eventually they overran his birth pack, causing those
remaining to flee. For a year Fenik made do on his own,
 his time in battle helped him immensely in surviving, he
learned many skills beside warfare in the war with the
Gorn, he also learned a variety of survival skills, which he
 put to good use when he traveled as a loner. Eventually
though he found a pack he grew to respect, and he joined
 their ranks as one of their fighters. Since then he has been
 fighting for the Benevolent Wolf Pack. He has chosen to
make their pack his new home, his new kin. He would happily
 lay down his life for them if he felt it better aided their cause.

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Name:Karazule
Nicknames:Kar, Karan
Hated Nicknames:Karrie Kara, Zulee, KarKar
Age:50
Former Name:Ticky
Race:Demon
Rank Classification:Imp
Sex:Male
S\O:Heterosexual (Straight)
Personality:Spiteful, vile, sadistic, sinister, are all very reasonably things to call this little imp. He cares little for others, and will gladly take your head if it benefits him. He is very devious, and in one moment can seem perfectly happy with you, portraying no intentions of turning on you, but snapping at you in an instant. He holds many grudges, and is not quick to forgive, though he can appear to be so, if he thinks it will help him. However when he is doing so he is merely biding his time... waiting for the right moment to attack, to get his revenge. He hates seeing happy pairs, and will do his best to torment them, taking sadistic joy in watching them break apart.

Story:Kar was once mortal, at the time he was a fox. He had lived a simple life, known then as Ticky. He had made his home in a abandoned shrine. He lived a content life, a happy life. He was a kind hearted fox at the time, though he could be rash at times. Young, only a year old. His life changed in one morning, as he was plunged into a battle he had no business being a part of. A young vixen was running from and angered wolf, she had apparently been caught hunting in it's pack's lands. She ran into Ticky's den, tripping over the fox, and waking him. He snapped at her, not being a morning person... or enjoying being crushed while asleep. The fae had run out of the den, frightened by the fox, not thinking the den had residence. She was beset upon by the brute in her blind fear. Ticky debated for a moment, and then attacked the brute, knowing better then to think he could kill the beast, however he hoped to distract it long enough for the vixen to flee. The vixen ran away initially, however as Ticky was leading the wolf away from his den, the vixen apparently felt some sort of guilt, what it was that drew her back the fox did not know. However he remembered seeing the wolf's jaws slam shut on the vixen's throat, Ticky had seen a large, scab of some sorts around the brute's neck, and lunged for it, causing the brute to release the vixen, who limped off. He clamped his jaws shut, tearing at the weakened skin, reopening the wound, and widening it. The brute tried desperately to get the fox off, but was unable to, it's struggling only helping Ticky to tear at the brute's neck, until the warm blood came pouring into Ticky's mouth from the brute's severed jugular. After the brute had fallen limp, Ticky went over to the vixen, and brought her back to his den, working quickly to seal the wounds, and stop the bleeding. The vixen had lost much blood, and was bleeding out over the leaves inside the den that the fox used for bedding. She died as he rushed about, trying desperately to save her, however he did not succeed, and the vixen died in his grasps. He stood there, replying the scene as he held the vixen, unsure what to do then. He slowly began to drag her corpse out of his den, to bury her, thinking he could at least do that, seeing as he failed to save her. He dug a hole beside his den, and placed the vixen's body inside it, a force he could not comprehend at the time slammed him to the ground, scaring the daylights out of him, he snarled and lunged at the air... however nothing he could see as there. The vixen had returned, as a ghost... enraged at Ticky for failing in his task, she attacked the brute, muttering low curses that carried in the wind. In her anger she struck the fox dead... As Ticky replayed the short day over in his head he began to regret helping the vixen, seeing as if he had not he would not be dead, a hatred for her began to well inside him. A hatred that grew, and morphed him. Thoughts of revenge, of watching the vixen suffer welled inside him. His master, one of the cerberus of the underworld found this anger, and brought the brute back, as a demon, one of his minions. It was then Ticky was cast aside, and made room for Karazule. Who, though low in stature at the moment, is working hard at cementing his stature in the underworld, his devious mind knowing what connections to form, and who to stab in the back later on. Throughout all the pain, and torture that he went though, 'rehabilitation' the demons called it, the hatred for the vixen grew, and his thoughts of revenge with them.
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Felines
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Name:Fino
Name Meaning: Burning One
Name Origin:Greek
Species:Piras Leon (Fire Lion in English)
Mate:None (can't stand the heat ;P)
Cubs:None
Element:Fire
Age:4,000 years
Personality: Fino takes being hot headed to a whole new level with his fiery aspect. He is rather arrogant, and loves to tease people. He also loves burning things, living or other wise. He is also one of the smartest lions you will find, he thinks far more like a human then he does a lion. He loves fire, however water does not phase him either. Though he dislikes it it does not hurt him, he mearly can't use his powers while submerged in it. But don't be fooled, you may be able to disable his usage of fire, but you'll still have a huge lion, with a brain to match his size angry at you. The only thing is now, you have a huge lion that's enraged.
Story: Fino was brought into this word as all lions were, he was born into a pride. His pride was not too diffrent from any other, other then one aspect. They were growing far larger then most lions, and smarter. They had no use for numbers or literature, however they did manage to figure out how to use human forges. So it was because of this that Hephaistos decided that if he were to take a lion as a pet it would be from his pride. So the god came down from Olympus and spoke to the lions in their tongue. He offered to make one of them immortal, and to bring it to the heavens with him. Now as these lions had been smarter then most they disscussed this among themselves, and asked him what they would have to do. The god said that they would have to forge him a crown. The lions laughed, for that was such a simple task. So they set to work, yet each one of their crowns were rejected by the god. Until eventually Fino created a crown for the god. Unlike all his kin's crowns though it was not simply a crown, he had worked a few simple mechanisms into it, the god smiled for this was as he wanted. So he took the lion with him to Olympus. It was there that Fino began his work for the god, he was not assigned difficult tasks, not for a lion at least, and certainly not for an immortal lion. The god would send his pet into Erebus on many occasions to fetch things for him, and gradually because of this his pelt began to catch a flame. After many millenia of this his pelt was no longer simply that of a lion, and the god decided that he would not be classified as such. So it was decided that he would be known as a Piras Leon. Yet another millenia passed and slowly the Greek gods fell from the humans favor. No longer could they survive, as they were no longer worshiped, so as all the other gods did Hephaistos died. However not being as old a entity as he was, and not requiring as much favor as his master Fino survived. He returned back to earth, but no longer was he simply a lion of immense size and knowledge. He was a lion of immense size, knowledge, and power. He found that unlike in the heavens he could set things on fire, as well as the world's creatures. So for a a few decades he did this rather often, until finaly he learned to contol his power on earth and he became less vicious. He learned to control his fire enough so that he could be touched without burning any who decided to touch him. Since he manged to learn to control his power he has been looking for a pride of lions that he feels he could enjoy the company of. Though he knows not pride could be like his pride of old he still searches, for one.

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Hey everyone, seeing as this is my 50th post i decided that I would make something special, and new. So I decided to mix some Greek mythology with thoughts of my own, resulting in Fino.

[Hunt]

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Humanoids
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Name:Reidr
Age:26
Height:13'9
Build:Huge, muscular mass.

Armor:He wears heavy armor, that most creatures could not lift, his shield is huge, standing about 7' tall from edge to edge. He wears no helmet, and does not have to, most arrows can not piece the thick natural armor of a minotaur, especially one of his size. And those that do he can usually block with his massive shield. His giant double sided axe, with a mace ball on the bottom of the hilt stands 9 feet from tip to tip, though it ways close to a ton and a half he is surprisingly quick with it, as he is with his shield, so be weary.

Gender:Male

Personality:Reidr is not one to be taken lightly, he is big, so say things lightly. He towers above most of his kind, which tower above the rest of the sentient beings, so he has grown accustomed to being respected. He is not a dumb ox, however he does not enjoy to think... he prefers to solve problems with his large axe/mace and shield. He is not a formal creature, and prefers taverns to dwell in. He loves himself a good brawl, though those are hard for him to find, with his massive size. He is not quick to trust, and only trusts those he deems worthy, or that are his friends.

Story: Reidr had always been in short supply of friends in his youth, most other his age feared him, and distanced themselves from him. He soon learn to hunt, to pass the time. He never backed down from a fight... even when the odds were far from his favor... as they often were. The other children often teamed up on him, as they knew he would beat them on their own. So he learned to stand his ground, to fight in these odds. As was customary among his people, once he had finished growing he made his own weapon, and armor. Simple leather at first, but it has long improved. His armor is now a thick sheet of the metal the smiths called Star Metal. He gathered this metal from the weapons of his victims. Piercing this thick, heavy armor is nearly impossible, and it covers most of his vital organs, and joints. His Axe, and shield are made of the same metal. In the dark it glows a slightly illumining blue light, so he rarely needs a torch, so long as he had his massive axe. His war cry became something well known, and feared. The humans named him Reidr, which meant Angry in their native tongue... as Reidr often was. His clan did not give their kin names... not ones they had not earned. Most were simply called Kyr, meaning cow. Calling one that had gained this knew title however, was a grave insult, often met with swift action of blade among the clan. Reidr soon left to live on his own, finding his old clan tiresome. So he has been traveling, traversing dungeons, and fighting for coin... eager to make his thick blood pump through his veins at a quickened pace.

[Hunt]

Reserved

[Hunt]

There, now I should have room Alright, feel free to post now.

[SuperorWolf]

My god people!!! Chatty boxes.

[FighterWolf399]

Great job Hunt. They were all very descriptive and informational. It was very fun to read all their bios. I really liked Geir. Hope to meet Geir in game soon.

[Hunt]

@XxXxEpicnessxXxX-Thank you, and I hope to meet you in game too. You should add me, my user in game in -Hunt- just like it is on the forums.

[Larka13]

I love em! I recently got FH on my laptop again(Its really laggy and weird though). Hope to see you! Just look for a grey and blue/white and blue female wolf named Ashei.

[BlackVortex]

So. Much. Info.

Very nice job, though I do not have the time to read most of it.