Vilefang

Portrait

Description
The Basics: Sex: Male Alignment: Evil Race: Werewolf Attracted to: Females Disposition: Dominant Body: Stocky, Musclebound Those who's seen the beast and lived to see the daylight said: "What lurks in yonder darkness by the moors, is neither man nor beast. It is a thing of the devil that lusts naught but carnage, and has no place on this earth". The beginning: He wake up, opened his eyes and look around him. Darkness mostly, yet he could see clearly. Next to him, few feet away, lay his now extinguished torch. He gazed towards the forest trees looming around him, he could nearly remember that area, but he could not remember the "when". Was it yesterday early evening that he came here to check the snares he set to trap the beast that were decimating his livestock? Was it only few moments ago? He wasn't sure, time had no meaning in his state of mind. There was a deep gashing wound on the flesh of his chest. Toothmarks as if were done by an animal, yet there was no pain. He ignored it. The forest was far-reaching, dark and ancient. Its canopy was marked by sequoia, beech, and birch, which left just enough light for an overabundance of sprouts to spread in the nut and seed covered grounds below. Thick tree limbs clung to most trees and a medley of flowers, which were unique to this region, brightened up the otherwise colourless forest grounds. In the dark he could hear a disharmony of beastly noises, belonging mostly to fleeing, scared animals. The dismal noise filled the air, it drowned out the swaying of tree tops in the wind. The night was relatively bright, it was full moon, he could not remember it, nor see it, but for some reason he could feel it. The moonlight was hardly penetrating through the thick canopy, yet it felt so bright that it burn the retina in his eyes. He could smell an animal near by, a deer. He turn his head and noticed that the snare he had placed there few days ago it held a white tailed fawn. The little deer cowered at his presence, petrified with fear. There was this unpleasant taste in his mouth, bitter like coper, dry and acrid, yet he was ravenous. He lurched towards the deer, his stomach told him that wanted to feast. Normally he would put the fawn out of its misery first, then take its carcass at home, skin it and cook it. But now? Now he wanted to tear its head off, rip open its chest and hungrily devour the still-beating heart. He lusted to tear flesh in a frenzied flurry of claws and teeth. He had the urge to see the fawn die in front of him. Gleefully see it shivering and twitching with waves of throbbing, nauseating pain that would pulsed on the torn flesh of its shredded abdomen as he would howl at the moon at same time. He jumped head first at the quivering deer with a blood curdling snarl. . . . . . The world turned red. He open his eyes again for only to see the forest trees looming above, was this a deja-vu? No, this time there was an eviscerated carcass of a white tailed fawn lay by his feet, one of the deer's legs was twitching. Blood and entrails splayed in every direction, it's rib cage open grotesquely. So much blood everywhere, His legs were drenched by it. What was this? Was it blood dripping on his fur? Did he always had fur? He could not remember. He only knew that his pelt was sticky with gore. He could feel it soaked, dripping with red blood. Red, everything was red, even the ground below him had turn crimson splattered with blood. What had he done? Why? Everything was hazy, he couldn't make sense of it all. He was light-headed, but his head was too heavy to lift. He wanted to feel guilt for this wanton butchery. And yet, Oh the irony! He was ecstatic, his bloodlust was satisfied. "This is not the time to feel guilty", he thought. "This is the time to lick the blood off my claws. What? I have claws now? Since when?"  He didn't bother to follow this trail of thought, satisfied he went on licking his snout. OOC Info: I am here for the ERP and dungeon crawling. If both combined all the better. English is not my first language so be a bit patient with me, and don't expect good grammar. That said, Watchman's written English are far above average. The player has a real life and a family. This will take priority over Sinfar life. If you cannot live with this then don't interact with Watchman. Green: Defiling. Knotting. Breeding. Branding. Bad ends. Degrading. Dominating. Piss marking. Females for ERP. Dungeon crawling. PvP for laughs & CtF. Collar and leash scenarios. Red Riding Hood & the Big Bad Wolf scenarios. Cuck scenarios where a cheating lover, naughty daughter or uppity slave is given to the beast as a punishment by her lover, guardian or mistress (brownie points if the beast turns on the mistress). Feral on Female with all the kinks that this scenario could entail. Yellow: Mehh, I duno. City areas? Red: Vanila. Consensual. Lovey-dovey. Grammar Nazis. Chitchat in bars. Braking server rules. Over the top evil acts. Due to its beastial nature this character can be encountered only in the wilderness. If seen in the city, most likely it's there OOC, so please ignore him. Tell friendly in case you wish to arrange something.
Player:	Watchman01
Gender (Visually):	Male
Race (Visually):	Human