This grizzled old mutt seems all too out of place in a land such as Sinfar.
 Crass, Rude, and blunt to the point of offense, he hardly fits in with the usual crowds milling about the capital.
 Bazi dressed in tattered old leathers and a motley assortment of light armor that looked as though it was collected and pieced together over time. His long mane a greasy, tangled mess of dreaded fur with various fetishes and trophies tied into it. He also sported  a multitude of scars just barely visible under all that auburn fur, crisscrossed along his entire form, marking the beast as a soldier at some point in his life.
 Having spent most of his years fighting a meaningless war, Bazi went and did the last thing he ever expected.. Surviving all those battles, growing old and gray, trapped in a realm forever at peace.
 The salty old bastard is often seen drinking excessively and grumbling about better times.

//Portrait a WIP