Inactive Character
Torres
Rating:
Unset
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Inactive Character
Profile Pages
Torres
Species
Timber Wolf
Age
4 years
Birth Date
Sex
Male (He/Him)
Height
Tall
Weight
Average
Build
Athletic
Scent
Frankincense and Myrrh
Eyes
Fiery Amber
Fur
Browns and Golds
Traits
Faithful. Obedient. Intimidating. Wise. Tempered
Mark of Mythris
None
THE PRIEST
"A weapon is naught without the hand that wields. To fell enemies, to defend honour… to break chains..."
Prior to his endeavors within the Vivarium; Torres was a religious extremist. Convinced that his actions were justified, as they were the will of his God. Raised by the Cardinal of his church, Torres weaponized the Saints of the cathedral to do his bidding, forcing their interpretation of The Faith onto the commonfolk by brute force. And those who refused compliance, well...
He was both feared and revered by many. Despite being blinded by his faith, the wolf still held a heft amount of wisdom that only exponentially grew with the years that passed. Many fell by his teeth, The Faith continuing to ever grow more followers. He led their flock through many gospel preaches, rituals, and counseling sessions. The Cardinal only ever showed admiration and appreciation of his pupil- promising that Torres himself could ascend to godhood. The Cardinal has raised him since he was a newborn, and had seen the child as a prophet since the moment he opened his eyes.
With his father figure's approval- he was granted one last task; eliminate the peasants that hid in the alleyways of the cathedral- preaching their own blasphemies and attempting to turn the congregation away from Torres and The Faith. Determination filled his chest, and he set forth to the commonplace, his army of Saints in tow. Hounds loyal to his call, Torres barked his orders; snarls ripping through the streets, the scent of iron growing ever stronger in the air. It had taken mere minutes before the streets had been cleansed. Before him, lay the limp body of a child. Only then did his faith begin to falter. And only then was he ripped away from the cathedral and forced into the world of the Vivarium. Away from his home. His Cardinal. His Faith.
SYNOPSIS
Prior to his endeavors within the Vivarium; Torres was a religious extremist. Convinced that his actions were justified, as they were the will of his God. Raised by the Cardinal of his church, Torres weaponized the Saints of the cathedral to do his bidding, forcing their interpretation of The Faith onto the commonfolk by brute force. And those who refused compliance, well...
He was both feared and revered by many. Despite being blinded by his faith, the wolf still held a heft amount of wisdom that only exponentially grew with the years that passed. Many fell by his teeth, The Faith continuing to ever grow more followers. He led their flock through many gospel preaches, rituals, and counseling sessions. The Cardinal only ever showed admiration and appreciation of his pupil- promising that Torres himself could ascend to godhood. The Cardinal has raised him since he was a newborn, and had seen the child as a prophet since the moment he opened his eyes.
With his father figure's approval- he was granted one last task; eliminate the peasants that hid in the alleyways of the cathedral- preaching their own blasphemies and attempting to turn the congregation away from Torres and The Faith. Determination filled his chest, and he set forth to the commonplace, his army of Saints in tow. Hounds loyal to his call, Torres barked his orders; snarls ripping through the streets, the scent of iron growing ever stronger in the air. It had taken mere minutes before the streets had been cleansed. Before him, lay the limp body of a child. Only then did his faith begin to falter. And only then was he ripped away from the cathedral and forced into the world of the Vivarium. Away from his home. His Cardinal. His Faith.
APPEARANCE
DESCRIPTION His base coat his a rich chocolatey brown, fading to a lighter brown to his undersides and the lends of his limbs. The edges of his limbs and their very ends are starkly darker, and even richer in color. Moving up his barrel, his color lightens even further, a blanket of lighter brown close to, but not quite matching his undersides, drapes softly over his shoulders, ribs, and hips. For a moment, it his briefly broken up by his base color, before returning to his lighter hue. His tail, most of his neck, and cheeks are dappled in a pastel and eye catching gold. The color also runs down the center of his muzzle, accenting the outside of his ears. Their insides match his underbelly. His entire form is patterned with flecking that contrasts the color it sits upon- consisting of light and dark golds and browns. Not a single scar touches his form, as most of his battles he faced were not fought with his own fangs and claws. However, his eyes in their fire show his age and what he's seen, displaying a weathered and worn appearance. Behind his stern gaze his an exhausted and broken man.