WSV | Odhran, the Mangle by SwordsandSpectacles on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

Uploaded: 09/07/24
Character Information Added 20/07/24

Character Information Completed 26/10/24
Character Accepted 28/10/24

Name: Odhrán [Oh-rawn]

Nicknames: Od, Oath, Omen, Mangle (Derogatory, beloved nickname of Shael)

Current Age: Adult, leaning older.

Starting Age: Adult, leaning older.

Gender: Nonbinary Pronouns: They/He

Sexuality: Bisexual

Faction: Eirmuir

Rank: Muckbelly

Task: Aspiring Tideripper

Height: 32 in at the shoulder

Weight: 62lb
Build: Pale and limping, shaggy fur obscuring an underweight form. Lame in the right foreleg and blind in the right eye, their dark mask marred by the burn scars that cover their right side from face, to neck, to shoulder. They move stiffly, though keep their fur meticulously groomed.

Family:

Note, all of Odhrán's history is open for PC connections, including previous mates and offspring. They're not young!

Parents: NPC & NPC of the Gaelkin
Siblings: NPC

Mate: NPC
Pups: NPC

Personality:

At first brush, Odhrán is the image of a cantankarous old fucker, with a brusque manner; liable to brush another off in conversation. However, there's a glint in his eye and good humour in his heart- and this gruff exterior is quickly cracked through, revealing a wicked sense of ultimately good humour.

He has a long memory- how can he not, with the scars writ across his pelt- but it's well seen that he forgives openly an honestly. He likes to know where he stands with others; if you slighted him in the past he truly does not care, once the air has been cleared… or at least the issue acknowledged.

Following his injuries, he is not terribly confrontational in a direct and physical manner, though as proven, will work to undermine any antagonist force.
They are largely honest though, and will seek out understanding with their companions. Their patience with younger valleyfolk is nigh endless, and they are a keen storyteller, and just a bit of a gossip… though they may deny that when confronted, in an abashed and laughing manner.

Overall, Odhrán tries to live a somewhat easygoing life, seeking appeasement and an low-conflict existence as they settle into proving themselves to the pack.

History:

Odhrán was not born of Eirmuir- in fact, he grew a young, strong warrior of the Gaelkin.

His youth was one of hardship, his pack backed into a corner, and locked in desperate war with the Eirmurians- a war which he partook in, his fangs bloodied as soon as he was old enough to fight.

This war would deepen and darken- and Odhrán wound find himself at two years of age struck down from the fighting, a burning brand shoved into to his face by a dark-furred Eirmurian. In current times, he claims the valleyfolk who did the deed had been aiming to choke him with the flames… but that’s all a laugh between friends now, dark jokes about Joe fortunate he is that all Macgyver stole from him was his looks.

Gaelkin crumbled, and Odhrán barely had it in him to care. He joined the winning side, the fractured Eirmuir, under the Árd-Rí’s grace, dragging himself to lay in the salt water daily in hopes of soothing his burns. He recovered slowly, painfully, though little could be done to save his foreleg, which began to atrophy as he placed less and less weight upon it.

On one of these days, he met a charismatic wolf- one by the name of Shael. They spoke a little, Odhrán saying what little he knew of his new home, caring little for the place, and less that Shael’s eyes glittered darkly at the information.

His thanks for this information came swift and bloody. So many things seemed to. Shael took over Eirmuir with bloodied fangs and trickery, and while the Clan starved, Odhrán was given a position of relative comfort, one where he had Shael’s eat, and gave him council.

Eventually, it became clear. Shael did not value Odhrán’s opinions or council, but he needed a right-hand man and confidant… and a valleyfolk who was literally physically incapable of standing up to him would be the ideal candidate for that. Odhrán seethed, espically at the state the home who had accepting his undeserving self, and started to plot.

He feigned greater injury, slower healing, exaggerating his limp. He spoke kindly to Shael, sweet and supportive.
And when his three hop-along legs would carry him, past the edges of the territory on a "Hunting Trip" allowed only because Shael thought him attempting to hunt more than beached crabs… amusing. It galled him.
He hunted long and hard, eventually catching the scent of an old enemy, a new ally.
Macgver did not trust him initially (Nor had he any reason to), but Odhrán talked the dark Eirmurian around.

Together, they hatched a plan, to draw the dispersed valleyfolk of Eirmuir back in a decisive strike against Shael, and instate Macgyver as rightful leader of the faction.

For his part, Odhrán faded into the background thereafter. Rebellion was hard work on creaking joints, and he'd pushed past his untested limits in ways that left him aching and weary. Slowly, he has recovered, and now he looks forwards to paying back the great debt he feels he owes his new home.

Design by @SPlRlTEDGALE

Ref Art by Myself.

I'm never lining with this fucking brush again-