Varkus, a huge dark creature, forged with the unity of beast and giant. With the physicality of a stone giant muddled with the seering blood of beasts and monsters. He stood over nine feet tall and was shockingly heavy, a mammothly powerful frame made of angry slabs of rapacious muscle, leathery skin and musky dark fur, deeply slashed over with old scars and ancient brandings denoting old masters and loyalties.

Usually dressed in little more then a strip of tiny leather that covered his emmense terrifying cockflesh, and heavy fur covered sack. Though more usually nothing, save the weapon he kept across his back, an ancient cracked cleaver.

His beastial head resembled a bulls with the long wide muzzle, flat leather cracked nose, small golden eyes, and great sweeping horns of stained ivory. From his forehead to his shoulders ran a razor-spine of long wiry dark mane. However the heat of those burning orbs and the unnaturally solid bone structure for a minotaur created an imposingly brutal caste to his features.

His frame was huge and muscled, hulking over in a beastial posture that bunched tight the corded muscle of his limbs, ready to launch forward to his next goal. The thick dark pelt of fur smattered in bunched velveteen across his form, shiney with musky oil and sweat. His proportions bunched together in a savagely powerful shape, short stocky digitigrade legs with huge muscular thighs that lead down to cracked cloven hooves. Stubby trunk like arms corded with iron hard muscle, lined over with heavy pulsing veins ended in fat hamhock hands, each finger capped by black-iron nails.

Between the segmented muscle of his thighs hung his greasy fuck pillar, the long bovine cockmeat almost always hung free from the solid sheath that professed to protect it. The thick meat was mottled and dark, webbed over with gun-metal veins that pumped it to life. It oozed a pungent oil of phermone laden lust that often dripped cruely from the broad flat tip of his cockflesh.