Drogo

Name: Drogo

Gender: Male

Age: 4

Pack: Helidos

Rank Requested: Warrior with hopes of becoming Guardian

Appearance:
Rusted hues lay the base for the regal coat of the one known as Drogo. Mounted atop copper fibers is a sea of black, the bulk of which lay claim to his back. The ebony reaches the extent of it’s influence on his coat mid way down his side. Trickling down his spine, a pool of the dark threads congeals at the tip of his tail, engulfing its crown in blackness. The same darkness that paints his body, provides an onyx mask over his devilishly handsome face and stains the base of his throat.. While the majority of his face is flecked with an equal spread of rust and coal, the obsidian hue commands the fur that sweeps from his temples outward to his cheeks, allowing a fine line of the same colour to trace beneath his eyes. Predominantly russet fur decorates the top half of his muzzle, while a stark white resides upon the lower half of his face in almost the same fashion as the white that paints the face of the fox. The most notable markings that garnish his pelt are two thin black streaks that run vertically along the lower front portion of his forelegs. His eyes blaze with the colour of the autumn leaves, glowing a vibrant orange. His frame is one that the gods themselves could not have perfected any more than what he had been graced with at birth. The perfect combination of height, weight, and agility, he is a top predator, fusing both speed and power in equal portions. He stands only just above the average male, large enough to have a weight advantage over most in battle, though not heavy nor tall enough to hinder his speed and agility which stems from well muscled legs that make up a fair portion of his height.

Photo:

History:
The story of Drogo falls into the same mundane past as most all other wolves. Filled with tragedy and catastrophe, hardships and misfortune and of course heart break. But one things sets this story apart from those who share the same woes as he, the state of leadership which his kin fell under was unlike that of any other known wolves. Where so many follow a beloved leader(s), known throughout the worlds as the Alpha pair consisting of an Alpha and Alphess, he knew of a different hierarchy. In the lands of his birth, his pack, while they had their leader, fell under the ultimate control of a single wolf, as did several other packs within the region. Each pack was lead by a lord, but each lord answered to one they called King. King Rhaegar (Ray - Gar) ruled over his lands with an iron paw, and while the common wolves despised him, his lords were loyal to him, or at least he thought. Lord Valentine of the pack Meraxes did not share the love for the king that the others felt. But such feelings would brew within him or some time before any action was taken.

As was customary for the high born pups of lords of the 5 packs under Rhaegar’s control, males were taken once they no longer depended on milk from their mother. They were taken into the care of the King’s men to be raised and trained in the art of battle to ready them for service to the king when they reached one years age. Along side battle training came primping for what would be expected of them should the day come when they must take their fathers place as head of their packs. It was here in the safety of the King’s pack that Drogo honed his skills and became one of the best warriors in the King’s ranks. Power and speed came together in a deadly unison that held no mercy for those who opposed the King’s rule or dared to challenge the relentless brute. He has truly become the product of his environment, and swore loyalty to the King and only the King. As the years passed Drogo only strengthened, and improved.

When Drogo had reached the age of 3, the world as he and those under the reign of the king would change. Lord Valentine of Meraxes started a rebellion. His pack stood behind him, as did Lord Eloron of pack Hornwood and those in his ranks. War was upon the wolves of Tortall. Drogo raced out to face the traitors with the King’s finest, leasing their battalion of soldiers into battle. Many fell victim to his lethal jaws that day but they continued to fight. It was only when he faced Lord Valentine that things took a turn. He had not laid eyes on his father since he had been taken in to train under the king. But it was not joy that fell in Drogo’s eyes, but disgust. Here in front of him, his own father, marching against the king. There was no honour in treachery and so he would suffer the death of a traitor.

The battle between father and son was excruciating, both sustaining major injuries, but Drogo’s youth prevailed. He stood over his father, exhausted and bloodied, pinning the old man beneath him. He held his deadly jaws mere inches from his fathers jugular, but for the sake of curiosity, held off for a moment longer. ”Tell me traitor. What demons have poisoned your mind and convinced you to rebel against your own king?” he hissed into the old wolf’s ear. His query was answered by a strained voice ”Son, it is not me who’s mind has been poisoned. It is the king!” his words were cut short ”ENOUGH!” he shouted, and snapped his jaws together around Lord Valentine’s throat, silencing his deceitful words.

The battle was won, but the losses were great. Those who had partaken in the uprising were slaughtered for their crimes against the king, many by Drogo himself. It wasn’t until some time had past after the great uprising that Drogo began to question the words his father had said to him. Whispers came to him of Rhaegar’s secret dealings with a pack in great numbers that lay claim to the land just beyond Tortall boarders. As months past, more whispers came to light and Drogo began to delve deeper, seeking answers to one question that seemed to continue to plague his mind. What of the females? He had seen so very few in his time, their presence was truly a rarity, so where were they?

As his investigation thickened, the sickening truth was revealed. The king had been exchanging females for peace. It had begun with the adults, but when they were not enough, pups born female from that point on were taken and given to the pack beyond the boundary to keep them at bay. Disgust coursed through Drogo. All this time he had been serving a twisted man, and had killed his father who’s only intent was to free the wolves of Tortall from the reign of the Mad King. Many thoughts crossed his mind at that time as to what to do next, but there was only one thing he was certain of. Rhaegar had to die, and it would be Drogo who took his life.

Given guard duty of the King’s den one night, Drogo took the opportunity too strike. When the sun had settled and the moon sit perched high in the night sky, he slipped into the king’s den, silently and swiftly. With a single bite, it was done. Rhaegar’s reign was no more. He knew then that staying would result in most certain death for him, so he fled. Getting as far away from the lands of Tortall as he could, in search of something new, something better. He wanted a chance to redeem himself for the vile sins he had committed. And so his journey began.

Joining Keys: -Joining keys have been removed to ensure there be fair joining to future members of Age. ~Junebug ^_^

How did you find Age? Top 50 Wolf RPG

Example Post:
(This is a post from a different character of mine on another site)
Paradise - a place of extreme beauty delight, and happiness. The perfect word to describe the stunning utopia in which the petite, ivory female found herself lost within. The dazzling sun blazed high in the sky, consuming the landscape with blinding rays, combating the chill that threatened to take its place as the storms grew near. They had yet to violate these parts, and Elsa prayed they never would. The crystal waters of the lake below twinkled as the sunlight danced across its glassy surface. While the wind was absent below, at whispered through the blades of grass that swayed in their eternal dance with the element. The same wind that twisted its way through the lush grass braided its way through the alabaster fur that adorned her body. Pale lids closed over radiant lavender eyes as she inhaled deeply. Her nose filled with scents, the fresh breeze, the pure waters, the lush grass, the animals that made this wonderland their home. She wished this moment would be everlasting, though as she knew all to well, all good things must come to an end. If she could stop time, and spend an eternity in this luxurious place oh how she would. She would frolic through the grass, racing the winds that swept across the land. She would gaze down at the lake below, mentally picking her way down the daunting slopes that led to the waters edge.

Rocks older than wolfs themselves jutted out from the lakes shores, climbing for what seemed like forever to the plateau that she stood upon. Trees daringly grew from the rocky cliffside, clinging to the earth with all of their might, but never budging an inch. A gentle smile slipped across her ebony lips as she took in the sights. These were sights she would forever remember, and hold dear. Should she have a family one day as she deeply wished to, she would bring them to this place. It was one of her top 5 favourites. Her mind drifted off into dreams of the future, or at least the future she hoped to have. A loving mate by her side, to protect and adore her as she would him. Pups running and playing, testing new limbs, exploring the big new world that lay at their paws whilst she and her mate watched them play. Smiling and laughing, a big happy family. This was her dream. She wanted no part of her past and what the monsters that were part of it stood for. Izak, the devil that had taken over her pack had forced all the females to mate with him, he wanted warriors to protect his new claim of land. Her brothers and sisters had succumbed to his brainwashing. They had become the perfect mindless soldiers that the wretched male had desired. Elsa however would have no part in it. Her rebellion had nearly cost her, her life, and she was sure it had cost her mother hers.

A pang of pain shot through her at the recollection of her mother. She barely remembered her now, it seemed so long ago, though she remembered that day as if it were yesterday. Her mother had woken her in the dead of night, and told her to hurry along behind her. So Elsa obeyed, no questions asked. But when her mother had told her to run, the young pup had been terrified. She did not understand why her mother would not come with her, why they couldn't run away together. Surely she loved her other children but they were beyond help, their young impressionable minds poisoned by Izak's corruption. A short sigh escaped her lips as the memories cluttered her head. She still wondered to this day why things had to be the way they were, but she knew she would never find the answers she sought.

But such thoughts needn't trouble her now. She pushed them to the far recesses of her mind where she tried to keep them locked away. These lands were supposed to be her fresh start, her escape from the past she so wished to forget. Her attention was brought back to reality when out of the corner of her stunning lavender eyes, she caught a swift movement. She snapped her tiny head to the side and locked her sight on what had moved. A flock of birds had gathered in the grasses of the plateau, and picked at the ground in search of a meal. Excitement glinted in her eyes as she lowered her lithe frame as close to the ground as possible while still remaining on her feet. Muscles contracted beneath her skin, her plush tail flicked behind her silently. Ears flickered as the chirps and cheeps of the birds reached them. Slowly but surely, one paw at a time, the tiny hunter crept closer and closer, remaining completely silent. When she was but a few paces out, she sprang. Powerful muscles sending her tiny frame soaring through the air directly into the flock of birds, sharp harmonic barks filling the air.

She had no intention of feeding on the birds, all she sought was a little fun. The birds scattered into the sky, flapping their wings in a desperate attempt to flee from the little wolf. A pleasant giggle chimed through the air as she chased the fleeting flock, her swift movement carrying her light frame across the ground at break neck speed, only ever interrupted by the occasional leap into the air, barking and giggling as she watched the winged creatures soar effortlessly though the sky. She often wondered what it would be like to have wings. To be able to soar through the sky, drifting on the winds, not a care in the world. Often during thoughts of such a fantasy ended in laughter as she pictured wolves with wings. As the birds soared well out of her reach, her sprint slowed to a halt, her face gleaming with excitement and content. She flopped herself onto the grass, stretching out and letting slip another sigh, though this one was one of pure satisfaction. "Nothing could ruin this perfect day."she thought to herself, allowing her body to relax completely as she lay sprawled out among the grass.

Wow, sounds like an awesome charrie you have there!

Your profile has been...
Drogo Iwmy

You may now post at the Helidos borders,
there you will be greeted with a superior and handed
a rank based off your wolf's skills.

Welcome to Age of the Wolves!

-Junebug

» Drogo On The Go Go
» Through the grass (Drogo)
» Peace at Last [Drogo]
» Where to Go From Here? [Nnlya/Drogo/Levi]
» Won't You Spare Me Over Another Year? [Drogo]

Drogo

Drogo

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