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 island paradise.
 Bazi dresses in tattered old leathers and a motley assortment of light armor that looks as though it was collected and pieced together over time. His long mane a tangled mess of dreaded fur with various fetishes and trophies tied into it. His body sports  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 younger years fighting a meaningless war, Bazi went and did the last thing he ever expected, and survived all those battles, just to grow 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