[DotW] Trogier ''Phantom'' [Tryout]

Monstrous deed! A lady bright 

Slays her own, her wedded knight; 

Buries him beside a brook

In a grove where none will look. 

Lilies on his grave she plants; 

As she sows them, thus she chants: 

"Lily flowers, grow as high 

As my husband deep doth lie; 

As my husband deep doth lie, 

Do ye, lilies, grow so high!"

[...]

Lilies, Adam Mickiewicz

MAIN

Name: Torgier

Though his companions have taken to calling him Phantom for his uncanny tendencies and behavior

Age: 7 years

Gender: cis male [he/him]

Height:  36''

Weight: 123 lbs

Build: Muscular and stocky, Trogier appears like a true embodiment of raw power. To touch him would be less like coming in contact with a soft flesh but a cold and unyielding stone akin to those forming the walls of the Tomb. Only his coat is smooth and lush like the nightly mist creeping over the ground. Billowing in even the lightest breeze as he pursues forward with confident steps, easy to be mistaken for an interterrestrial being.

Territory: Hintertomb

Family: 

• Parents: members of the Omen’s choir, chased away from the pack six years ago, their names long forgotten

• Mate: A beautiful Hintertomb female who died in the Southpoint Collapse. [see appearance]

• Offsprings: Children from his first litter whom he hasn't seen since the Collapse. Assumed dead. [open for plotting]

Rank: Ember

PERSONALITY

Protective | Affectionate | Compassionate | Dedicated | Observant | Rational

With his strong and towering body Trogier naturally fell into the protective role. His size itself sends a clear “back off” message and for years he had been using that to break fights and reduce levels of conflict just with his presence. Some may say that being larger than average might make you competitive, but after a certain point one just couldn’t care anymore. For that matter, Trogier prefers to collect allies rather than enemies. For kindness he always makes sure to pay in kind, sometimes even giving away more than he had received himself. Valuing favors more than any physical object, he is willing to give up possessions for the sake of his companions. Over the years he had accumulated a certain wisdom that allowed him to sense their needs and find a reasonable approach. For moments like those he appears to have a surprising gentleness inside. Delicate and caring, whispering affectionate sentences to those who have earned their place inside his heart.

Trogier is not the one for sudden decisions and lack of consistency. When presented with a choice he takes time to find his answer and once he formulates one it is definite. Changing one’s opinion based on occasion to him is like a breach of trust and he expects the same from others.

Melancholic | Enigmatic | Strict | Stubborn

One the first glance he appears to be menacing and unapproachable, an image he very much so wants to maintain. He doesn’t let too much about himself be known, always directing the conversation to others and only giving short, enigmatic answers whenever it gets personal. Trogier is known for his penchant for solitary walks and prolonged moments of silence, only amplifying  the mysterious aspect of his character. He certainly doesn’t make it easier for others to understand him, always revealing just what he finds absolutely necessary and expecting his instructions to be executed without question. He even happens to have a few quirky habits of his, which though are mostly harmless - often creep his companions out.

Authoritarian | Brutal | Condemnatory | Gloomy | Dismissive

However, despite his usually kind and helpful attitude, Trogier is not a wolf to be messed with. Just as his heart is filled with affection towards those he cares about, it can also be a vessel for hatred towards his foes. Ruthless in battle, he has no mercy towards those who mess with him. On a daily basis he seems like a jovial individual, casually joking around with others. And yet one ill timed jest is sometimes all that's needed to earn his wraith. 

Perhaps in the past he seemed more... forgiving, tolerant. Open to negotiation. But as his remaining life grew short, so did his patience. Somewhere along the journey the wolf has set his priorities straight and has been keeping his faith towards them ever since.

He doesn't ask for caution, doesn't ask for honours. Merely a respect for his ways and beliefs.

PRE-GROUP HISTORY

cw: starving / character death / injuries / grief

The days of Trogier precede the reign of the old Omen. He faintly remembers as he set his first steps amongst the mountains, raising his head towards the clear night sky and staring into the stars. Though after so many years it’s just but a blurry shadow in his mind of what has been, he associates a certain fondness with this period. Getting to know the world and experiencing his first spring and summer had been full of wonder. As his body grew in size and accumulated its strength, as day after day he found himself able to achieve more - the pup strived to live his life to the fullest. 

Yet no paradise could last forever. As the summer came to an end and days started getting colder, he recalls a very particular feeling of dread. The predictions turned out for the worst and as the cold days arrived the pack began to starve. 

He had barely begun helping the pack in their hunts and oh how he wished he could make a difference. It was those long winter nights when hunger had first taught him humility and to fear The Gods. At that time only a few of the kin had the courage to raise their heads. Even him, who felt like he could challenge the astral beings just a season ago, couldn't bear to hold their gaze. 

What followed after, feels like clouded by a veil of mist. His mind and body both weakened at that time due to him sustaining himself on just the bare minimum. Even though he could sense the tension rising within the pack, it was beyond him to understand what it truly meant at that time. For hours which felt like days which felt like months he laid deep in a cave fighting to just keep his body warm, until he was suddenly standing upwards, his legs moving despite his lack of comprehension and a pelt of his kin at the side. No other journey he made since then felt quite like this one. Like a Dust carried by wind he moved forward, losing a bit of himself with every gust.

Events of that ill fated winter have stripped him of his youth and forced to mature far earlier than he was supposed to. After the pack's relocation he soon realised his parents didn't make it along with him and based on the hostile approach he received from some of the Wolkins - it wasn't the famine that took them. However, not allowing the deed of his predecessors to shape his future, he decided to take control over his own fate. The eerie place face of the night God has decided to spare them this time and as the winter turned into a long awaited spring The Hintertomb was finally able to let out a first breath.

Those who remember him from his older days might say he went through quite a change. Once a reckless and frivolous youth, seeking occasions to prove his strength and superiority of mind over the years he had transformed into his present self. Shaped by the wolves he met, losses he suffered and prices he paid for his mistakes, Trogier started foremost seeking balance. The Wolkin earned his own reputation hunting and providing for the pack. He found himself a mate, the most beautiful female amongst the Hinterkin, whom he spent long seasons courting. Many have given up when their advances had been turned down, but he kept on trying. Bringing gifts, earning favors, constantly finding new ways to impress his queen, his seductive Nightwraith. Until one memorable night she didn’t turn away from him.

A few seasons later his first litter came into the world. Small, adorable furballs he swore to protect with his life since the first gaze he laid upon them. He promised to work even harder so that they wouldn't have to face the same fate as he did the first winter. Trogier watched his bloodkin grow up, taking it upon himself to teach them all skills. He thrived as a father and thrived as a mate. He was awaiting his offspring’s first hunt and the birth of the second litter when the world around him slowly started to change.

Day after day he heard the kin whispering about the strange occurrences behind the mountains. With each new roar shaking the valley his heart trembled in fear, not for himself but the lives depending on him. Once again he could not find the courage to look up into the night sky. Even with darkness encompassing the world he had taken to following the path of shadows, hiding from the sight of The Gods. I beg you, spare us he muttered into the dead of the night, when even the closeness of his kin could not chase away the sense of unease.

On the third day after Omen’s disappearance the Southpoint cave system collapsed. He had been returning along with one of the search squads, thrilled to see his mate who wasn’t leaving the den due to her labor getting closer. A feeling of dread followed him the whole time. How he wished they could just walk away and find shelter somewhere far, where the sounds and lights didn’t torment them anymore. But she was in no state to make that journey so he was forced to wait and fight against the unease threatening him at every moment.

He was about to see her face when the mountain shook. It was just a few steps further to reach the den. 

And yet still too far.

The Hinterkin scurried towards the entrances. Trogier helped the weaker and slower wolves, pushing and pulling, falling behind himself in the process. He was the last one who made it out through the tunnel, but the luck evaded him as one of his hind legs got stuck in the rumble. Together the remaining wolves managed to pull him out from under the rocks, ripping the skin off his limb in the process. It was a nasty wound that took weeks to heal, leaving a reminder of nasty, furless patches and a dull pain that caused him a slight limp ever since.

However the most excruciating damage has been done to his soul. He hadn’t seen a member of his family ever since. Even though he suspected some Wolkin might have gotten out though different entrances, the old Hintertomb dispersed over the valley. The last sliver of hope eventually died down as he came to terms with the fact that he will probably never see them again. 

Ever since he stuck with the small group of wolves he helped to escape. After all that happened, he still couldn’t bear to just leave them like that. Trogier followed them around, hunting and protecting like he once did. He had grown gloomy and despondent, keeping mostly to himself, walking at a distance and never starting an interaction. It took years for him to learn how to act around them once again. Though there was still affection in his actions, he grew bitter with a deep scowl embedding itself in his expression. 

He lived not for himself but for them, for all he had once cherished was now lost.

OTHER

• His favourite flowers are white lilies, the courtship gift cherished by his late mate. He still carries a deep fondness towards them.

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