Braythe the Savage - Badger Lord - Good

[.:Fawn:.]

Name: Braythe the Savage
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Species: Badger
Occupation: Badger Lord of Salamandastron, Vermin Hunter, Forgemaster

Physical Appearance:

Large, even by badger standards, and with a grip as hard as death, Braythe's appearance has been known to strike fear and awe into the hearts of friend and foebeast alike. His build, despite a tall stature, is made up of a stocky, muscular head on a short neck, massive limbs that are also short but powerful, and a scraggly tail that's a little on the stubby side. His torso is slim but muscular, with a chest as hard as an anvil. His claws, however, are longer than the average badger's – more than likely due to having to dig through the snow and the oftentimes frozen earth of his frigid homeland: his claws are supported by very thick footpads. Having dwelt in the Land of Ice and Snow a majority of his life, Braythe's fur is noticeably much thicker than badgers that come from warmer, healthier environments. The harshness of his homeland has left him with coarse, bristly guard-hairs and a considerably thick,, much softer undercoat. Despite the varying lengths of his body, Braythe manages to not look too disproportionate – with the exception of his ears, that is. They might be a bit smaller than the norm, and the length of his fur along the top of his broad, muscular head makes them seem even smaller. It's a little-known fact that Braythe is a bit subconscious about them, and those few that do know are careful not to say anything critical in regards to his appearance. His nose is coal black. Despite the massive size and equally massive amounts of strength, Braythe the Savage is also a beast of a few...quirks. Braythe possesses three particularly striking features – his fur, his eyes, and his, er, choice of clothing. The most noticeable of these three abnormalities is easily his stark, snow-white fur covering him from ear-tip to tail-tip. Not necessarily an albino, Braythe was simply born without black stripes, his body as white as freshly fallen snow. His fur, however, contains similar color-changing characteristics as that of an ermine or arctic hare in that it darkens into a brownish-red during the summer, and changes back to white again at winter time. During the summer months, this color-change seems to cause wide stripes of black along his broad head and muzzle, with various shades of reddish-brown (more brown as the summer wears on) filling in for the remaining white – every summer these stripes getting a little darker than they were before. It's almost as though his fur is trying to turn him more and more into a 'true badger' with each summer spent at Salamandastron. (The 'red on red', as in bloodwrath-eyes combined with a summer coat, has been known to sometimes send vermin into a dead faint, the sight of him enough to send several of them crying back to their mothers.)

At first he found this change somewhat alarming, before a bit of careful thinking brought him to a seemingly plausible conclusion, having come from a place where lots of animals changed their fur color seasonally: having spent so much time in the coldest parts of the aptly named Land of Ice and Snow, the land had never warmed up enough for his body to believe it was summertime. The fact that he couldn't remember ever being 'reasonably warm' for as long as he'd been there, seemed to support this theory. The second of these oddities would be the Badger Lord's eyes: they are a deep bronze color, like a plate of armor or a gleaming war-axe – and seemed to retain all of the quietly gathering vehemence one would expect from a weapon made for war. They seem to complete his somewhat cold appearance (particularly when he's in a brooding mood), combined with the bright whiteness of his fur, he has been nicknamed “Father Winter” by a few cheeky Salamandastron hares. Something to note, however, is that when frequent bouts of Bloodwrath happen, those dark bronze eyes of his can sometimes hold a faint deep crimson glow on top of the bronze. His eyes fade back to their usual color after a while spent without using his Bloodwrath (even though it's been taking longer and longer to change back lately). In spite of their unusual color, occasional bought of frigidness or fury and freaky red glinting, they glow now with a leader's ferocity, revealing a rough warrior spirit as bright as he is strong. It's hard to tell just by looking at him, but when the badger Lord offers a rare smile, it shows that he has the kindness of a goodbeast – giving off the appearance of a creature who knows little of spilling blood, and more of working the land or helping others where he's needed. Braythe has managed to combine a look of wicked savagery with the noble regality of a true Badger Lord. Decidedly a bit more uncouth and cold than noble and regal, Braythe is trying to put aside his wild, rough, survivalist behavior in favor of filling into his role at Salamandastron. It has not been an easy adjustment for him, but at least now he's actually starting to show some progress.

– Scars –

Having lived a very rough, dangerous life, no beast, not even Braythe the Savage could come away from all that trouble without so much as a scratch or two. He dons several particularly nasty scars and battle mementos courtesy of a very haphazard occupation (but one he's admittedly very very good at).

The largest of all the scars he's sustained in battle is one that cuts from his left shoulder all the way to his right hip. It took what felt like a dozen seasons for the hair to finally start growing near it, but the flesh remains a dark pink and raised, as though a badge of honor worn on his chest of white. This particular scar occurred during his fight with the wolf – and while he was the obvious victor, the wolf had not left this world without giving him a nasty, nasty parting gift. He has a few scars along his arms and legs, and one that starts at his brow and cuts all the way to his cheek in a thin, vertical line – the flesh still an unsightly red color despite a few seasons having passed since receiving it. The eye, luckily, was not damaged when the scar was received. Braythe the Savage is also missing the last toe/claw on his left footpaw, and his right ear is slightly torn.

The last of Braythe's quirky appearance comes from a certain article of clothing he's prone to wearing in the long winter seasons – though it's more a prize or display of his power than something to raise your eyebrows at.

Braythe the Savage has, in his possession, a magnificent cloak made from the hide of a wolf he had encountered (and slain) in his homeland. The white, gray and black-ticked pelt (the tail kept attached for decorative purposes) is usually worn over a handsome woven tunic of ultramarine blue, the cloak held by a lovely amber-stone clasp that had once belonged to his mother. During his 'hunting' days, Braythe the Savage would wear a lightweight, chain-mail Haubergeon sleeveless shirt over his bare chest, the pelt, and black trousers – all to make tracking and running easier for him.
During his days as Badger Lord, however, Braythe has traded in the chain-mail Haubergeon for an expertly made breastplate (complete with shoulder guards) over his tunic, a pair of grieves over black trousers, and often times a black cloak/cape that falls almost to (the back of) his thighs when it's too warm to wear the wolf pelt.

When the wolf pelt is not in use as a cape, it can be found atop the Badger Lord's bed as a rather comfy blanket or draped over the seat of his throne for decoration.

Possessions:

As a Vermin Hunter: Braythe the Savage often carries with him a two-pawed great sword, simple in design and simpler in purpose. Instead of slinging it over his back, however, it is worn at his waist – a feat a creature shorter than he could not accomplish without causing the tip to drag along the ground. Across his back, however, is usually a handsome crossbow made of sturdy oak, the wickedly accurate weapon nearly as tall as the badger himself – coming up to his shoulder – and taller than nearly every creature Braythe's ever run into. The crossbow is normally attached to his back by a thick leather strap (made from weasel hide) that runs diagonally across his chest. He is also known to carry skillful charcoal drawings of the vermin he is presently hunting – a wanted poster of sorts – drawn by his good friend Lyria Shadowtail. Apart from this, he usually carries a very large haversack, which he hangs at the hip opposite the one his great sword is on. The haversack usually has vittles, his wanted posters, and a few hastily made maps of varying locations, with the occasional colored bead or shiny thingamabob he knows Lyria will like.

As a Badger Lord: Rather than carry around the crossbow, the giant wooden weapon now stays in his private chambers, the great sword his primary weapon. He's traded in his wanted posters for a few leather-bound books on Salamandastron lore, a handful of candied chestnuts, and a few bits of sea-glass and other sparkly things he finds for his friend Lyria. Because of his skills as a weapons-master, the badger Lord owns a huge menagerie of weapons, and trains with each of them daily.

These weapons include (but are not limited to):

A flail
A Warhammer known as Vermin-Smasher (the new recruits call it the Weasel Bopper)
A double-bladed axe known as Hellbringer
A very large buckler shield with the likeness of Gorath the Flame hammered into it (his favorite Badger Lord).

The last of Lord Braythe's possessions comes in the form of a blue Great-Crested Salamander called Newt, which he keeps for a pet.

(c)

[.:Fawn:.]

Personality:

To sum up Braythe's personality, he is like no Badger Lord that's ever come before him and will (hopefully) ever come after – his personality so contrasting with that of the previous badger rulers' that it's a wonder destiny even chose him at all. Rude, uncivilized and a sore loser, Braythe does anything but give the appearance of a wise, understanding badger ruler who has grown knowledgeable in his old age. For one thing, he's really not old enough to be considered 'wise' by anyone's standards, and as a creature who hates any kind of puzzle, riddle or word game – claiming to dislike anything that makes him think too hard – he's certainly not one to be known for his intelligence.

Well, that's selling him a bit short. Braythe the Savage is an extremely intelligent creature, just not in the way you'd expect. He could hunt vermin to Hellgates and back thanks to his astounding tracking abilities, he is an entirely self-taught weapons-maker, and his knowledge of weapons and armor are sure to impress anyone. He has the ability to pick up on battle tactics a lot better than most creatures he bumps into, and with a little bit of studying (something he absolutely hates), he could earn the title of 'tactician' before too long. However, riddles certainly don't suit him – which is probably why Gorath the Flame, when trying to lead him to Salamandastron, lead him there through a series of images showing the landmarks on the way to the great fire mountain instead of the usual puzzle. If he'd merely tossed him a riddle and told him to 'let destiny lead you there', Braythe probably would've forgotten the riddle by morning, having given it maybe five minutes of thought before shoving it aside to focus on something more 'important'. Like breakfast.

….It's safe to assume he never would've gotten there if they'd given him a riddle.


Having grown up in a harsh environment (from the creatures he met to the lands he tried to live off of, it's no walk in the park), Braythe's survival skills are finely turned and as sharp as a double-edged sword, a rough, aggressive nature the product of constantly having to fight for his food. Because he is not a creature who's used to company, Braythe's social skills are lacking, and he may fail to properly read the creatures around him, often making dry comments, snarky remarks or just downright behave with unnecessary callousness because he didn't stop to think first. Another product of his environment is his territorial nature – which basically means that no one, absolutely no one, gets to touch his things without permission. There are very few exceptions to this rule, but it's otherwise carved in stone. Break it at your own risk. Braythe is certainly no one's idea of a Badger Ruler, that's for sure, and this is only the tip of the iceberg.

There are a few positives to his otherwise abrasive personality, and that's his dedication to his job as a vermin hunter (almost to the point of obsession), and his carefulness when it comes to the many lives placed in his care now that he's a Badger Lord. It's become his vow not to lose any members of the Long Patrol or civilians, regardless of how impossible a task this may seem. Braythe is one of those creatures where, if you set a boundary for him, if you place a wall in front of his eyes, he won't simply ignore it, he'll smash right through it regardless of what it may cost him personally. He may treat his hares with a mixed approach, varying from frequent criticism, rare praise and even the occasional joking and teasing, but no one can question the depth of concern he has for them.
The responsibilities of a badger lord are heavy weights to carry, but Braythe, if nothing else, has his strength.

Losing his parents early on in his life and having to rely only on himself has taught him a few habits the Long Patrol can't stand. The first being his atrocious table manners. A fork and a spoon might as well be some decorative bits of metal carved into funny shapes for all he cares. If his claws are working, he'd rather eat everything with his bare paws – his primitive eating methods combined with his gluttonous appetite spell trouble for anyone cleaning up the dining hall. The second habit is his horrible, horrible language; he swears worse than a sailor, and has been known to slip in a few profane words when chewing out an officer, and once had to apologize profusely for making the Brigadier General cry (though this might be a slight exaggeration. More like 'hurt his feelings', but the recruits claim they saw tears).

Having had to raise himself, Braythe hasn't been around enough 'proper' beasts to get rid of some of his childish behavior, and as a result, he can seem like a giant dibbun who's been forced to go to bed early when he doesn't get his way. He's extremely competitive, to the point where he cheats at almost all the card games, and can become a huge sore loser if he does, in fact, happen to lose. His 'slight' abandonment issues leave him unable to open up to the creatures around him, but a few of the higher ups in the Long Patrol are starting to make progress with him. He's starting to let go of his mistrustful nature and confide in his General and his Colonel a bit more, but it's obviously going to take a while for him to open up (in detail) about his past. He prefers to leave the past behind him and look forward instead.

This may come as a surprise, but Braythe the Savage is somewhat of a self-conscious creature; he's prone to bouts of shyness or awkwardness when it comes to being in large crowds, especially since he's now holding a high ranking position at the mountain. He's constantly aware of having all eyes upon him, and that can make him a bit defensive or prone to avoiding creatures. His self-consciousness is directed towards his ears, which he worries are too small – his longish fur making them tough to see. Though it's difficult for creatures standing right in front of him to even see the top of his head, he is constantly, painfully aware of them, and thinks everyone is too. Braythe has never been an eloquent speaker, and he hates all the formality that comes with being a Badger Lord – all that military formality is left to his hares, while he continues to say what he means to say, no more, no less, no matter how it might hurt the person on the receiving end.

He doesn't like making speeches, but, just before a battle, he will try his best to rouse the spirits of his warriors, and help make them stand up a little taller, their chins held high and their backs as straight as arrows. Despite being roughly 30 years old, Braythe seems to hover between acting like an adult, and acting like a belligerent child, given the situation. On the subject of his childishness... He's not picky about his food, and thanks to Braythe's voracious appetite, he'll eat anything– with the exception being radishes, the smell and taste something he absolutely cannot stand. When the Colonel or General try to coax him into eating them for the sake of trying to keep him relatively healthy, he sulks like a naughty dibbun and refuses until the General either gives up or eats it himself.

Braythe isn't the kind of creature who takes criticism well, or practical jokes, but he isn't afraid to dish out his fair share of each – despite the obvious unfairness of it all. This has changed a bit since coming to the mountain, and because he's painfully aware of how badly he's lacking (the higher ups are constantly shoving it in his face in the form of old books and dusty tomes written by the previous badger rulers, constantly discussing what it was exactly that's made them so legendary), he's learned to ease up on accepting constructive criticism. However, just because he's a little iffy on the criticism doesn't mean he's the same with praise; he tends to soak it up like a sponge, and the hares have to be careful not to cause him to get a swelled head. Arrogance on top of all of his other flaws aren't exactly favorable in any situation.

A few less important flaws to his personality is his lack of understanding of children. He can't relate to them, nor does he want to. He finds them to be somewhat annoying, and he is immediately repulsed by anything that's 'cute'. He's fairly certain it will ruin his reputation if he's seen conversing with an adorable little mousemaid or giving an otterbabe a piggyback ride through Cavern Hole. He's determined to avoid any situation that makes him appear softer than he really is. He's in denial about having any soft spots at all. He'd rather they think of him as a heartless savage than a tenderhearted noblebeast. Females too, are somewhat of a weakness to this big brawny badger; he can't read their emotions as easily as he can read a male's, and he's slightly worried he'll end up making them cry.
(Tears are like his kryptonite, he turns about as helpful as a rock when creatures start crying on him) It's never been his intention to be a bully (though it can seem like it at times), so he is a bit more careful about what he does and says when around those of the female gender. Braythe has never met a female badger (outside of his mother and sister), and frankly, wouldn't know what to do with himself if he did. He'd become about as awkward as a pigeon-toed duck with three left feet.

Throughout his years as a vermin hunter, Braythe's developed somewhat of a prejudice against all types, strongly believing that the only 'good' vermin is a dead one. He'd be happy to assist any on their way to Hellgates, should any feel like repenting for their sins...
He finds it very tough to be fair towards vermin since they're the primary reason why he no longer has a family, and he can't help but find every vermin at fault for simply existing. He doesn't like feeling any empathy towards them, and remains hostile to all vermin to keep himself from seeing their side of things. He wants to avoid feeling any remorse towards the scores of vermin he's killed in his lifetime, so he shuts off his feelings when around them. He's never wanted to play judge or jury, just executioner, and he's been doing a damn good job at it so far.

He is a Badger Lord of many, many flaws, but for every handful of flaws, is a singular defining trait that can sometimes make up for it. Braythe has proven himself to be protective of those in his care, fearless regardless of what he's facing, and has become known as a beast who never backs down, even when the odds seem impossible. He possesses a resolve as hard as the weapons he forges, and even though he treats them roughly, Lord Braythe the Savage has never ever forgotten anyone's name. He's the beast to turn to when you're in need of some help, and he has never let anybeast down before – no matter how tough the task at hand.
He's surprisingly reliable, and what he lacks in sense, experience and manners, he makes up for in determination and a rough and rowdy sort of chivalry.

He won't let Salamandastron down.

(c)

[.:Fawn:.]

Strengths:

• Being a badger, obviously he would possess otherworldly strength and stamina, however, despite his gargantuan size, Braythe is actually quite fast. (so all he fleet-footed vermin, beware! You'll only die tired!)
  
  
• Loyal to his hares almost to a fault. The good creatures at Salamandastron are the closest things he has to a family in quite a while, and because of this he feels an almost ingrained sense of loyalty for the hares of the Long Patrol. He'd lay down his life for any one of them, despite sending them mixed signals on a daily basis.
  
  
• What he lacks in the proper characteristics of a leader, Braythe makes up for in heart, and a sheer, unbending determination to become the Badger Lord Salamandastron has always wanted. If he fails as their leader, it's certainly not for lack of trying, and being a hard worker can certainly count as one of his strengths.
  
  
• Lord Braythe is a master of any weapon he gets his paws on, and he has extensive knowledge of weapon forging -- a skill which he learned without a master or guide to show him the ropes.
  
  
• Bloodwrath: his particular case of Bloodwrath is so severe, he's known to go into it for days on end, only returning to a safe level when he collapses from exhaustion. Despite the hazards of this curse, it really is quite useful when dealing with vermin armies.
  
  

Weaknesses:

• Reckless and hot headed, Braythe is easily baited by a few insulting words or rude gestures, and often doesn't stop and think, responding with violence or a rude word or two of his own.
  
  
• Inexperienced in the most literal sense of the term, though Braythe has defeated scads of vermin, he has not done so in a way that involves any sort of strategy. He simply killed any vermin on his wanted list and any vermin that tried to stop him. He's been known for attacking entire camps of vermin even if the one he's after is a single rat or stoat. His inexperience could cost the Long Patrol dearly.
  
  
• He gets severe cabin fever, and often times feels extremely couped up in the huge mountain he now calls home. He has been known to slip away a few times to be by himself for a bit, but one of these days that's going to catch up with him in a nasty way. Sneaking away in the middle of the night and coming back in the morning to find vermin camped out in front of the mountain isn't going to bode well for him. (or the vermin)
  
  
• His overwhelming prejudice towards vermin is only rarely overridden by his desire to be a decent Badger Lord, and he's often had to force himself to consult with his General and Colonel before making any unnecessary moves. But without them there...what he might do to the unfortunate vermin asking for a pardon from him isn't something anyone wants to think about.
  
  
• He will play dirty to get what he wants, in regards to fighting vermin, and the Long Patrol officers are quick to chide him for it.
  Now if only they could get him to actually listen to their words...
  
  
• A huge thing to note, is that while Braythe's Bloodwrath is off the charts, the negative side of it is too big too ignore. Each time Braythe goes overboard with the bloodwrath, he shortens his lifespan by a few years. The Long Patrol are in the process of teaching him to rely on it less, but he's lost count how many times he's used it against vermin over the years.
  Braythe the Savage, Savage by name and by nature, may not live as long as previous mountain rulers.
  
  

History:

~~Humble Beginnings~~

Braythe was born in the Land of Ice and Snow, during one of the coldest winters the Northlands had ever seen. His parents were strong, fine badgers by the name of Thora and Oakstripe the Strong – both of which had their proper stripes in their proper places – were quite surprised to find their newborn badgerkit to be completely white! No stripes to be seen at all. Thora made a great fuss over this sort of thing, as it had not happened in her family for generations – if ever! Oh what would her mother think if she found out her grandson was as stripeless as a bunny rabbit? Oakstripe, however, wasn't worried. “He'll grow into his stripes,” he said without pause, for he had seen something like this happen before.
Trusting in her mate, Thora put aside her anxieties and cared for her son – the newly dubbed Braythe – as any proper badgermum should.

Braythe's youngest years were the happiest for him, for he had a family who loved him, good food, and a warm place to sleep at night. It was all any bagerbabe really needed to be content. Despite his stripes never showing up, Thora loved him as unconditionally as a mother could, and was quick to give anyone quite a tongue lashing who dared mock her son's odd appearance. His peaceful existence in the Northlands continued on until he was about 12 years old, and by that time Braythe had become the proud big brother to a surprisingly petite little badgermaid called Violet. She had been born two summers ago, and was just now starting to walk and talk a little; despite her constant mispronunciation of his name (calling Brayff instead of Braythe), the young badger completely adored her.

Shortly after his twelfth birthday, Braythe's father, Oakstripe the Strong, had simply got up one night and vanished, never to return to his family in the Northlands again. What had called away his father, the young badger would never know, but he would never forget the sense of dismay he'd felt when after weeks and weeks of waiting, his father never came home. Thora did her best to soothe her son's worries, telling him that it was only natural for badger fathers to leave – two male badgers cannot live under the same roof for long. Braythe found this answer to be a bit lacking, especially since it didn't explain why their father had left without even saying goodbye.

~~Tragedy~~

A year after his father's bizarre disappearance, tragedy befell Braythe and his family: while the white badger had been out scouring the land for food,a wicked, merciless sable warlord by the name of Rurik the Savage and his horde descended upon Thora and little Violet. Though a threatened badgermum determined to protect her young could split the earth apart and crush the vermin as easily as one crushed plum cakes, the powerful but desperate Thora was no match for an experienced warlord and a well disciplined vermin horde.

Unbeknownst to young Braythe as he dug through the semi-frozen earth for roots and anything edible, his peaceful life had been shattered in a little less than half an hour. Yes, it was true, surviving the in the Land of Snow and Ice was no walk in the park – they were competing for food, trying to stay warm, and warding off predators nearly all the time – but Braythe and his family had never been outright attacked by any manner of vermin. Their biggest challenge had always been bringing in enough food for an entire family of badgers. Perhaps it was Oakstripe's reputation that kept them at bay, or perhaps it was simply that the idea of attacking a family of badgers was for the insane and the dimwitted...
Whatever had kept them away had ended that morning when Rurik the Savage, his hellish horde behind him, stormed into the badgers' home and slaughtered everyone inside.

Rurik was not stupid enough to leave the 3-year-old badgerkit alive, for he knew that children, no matter how small, weak, and insignificant they looked, grew up into strong, capable beasts with vengeance on the brain. Rurik took care of the badgerkit himself.

Chunnering about how his claws hurt, digging around in the ground all morning, Braythe made his way back to his family home. The family dwelling sat between two tall pine trees, secluded from the world by a small grove of pine trees and various shrubs that had survived the harsh winter. Braythe knew something was wrong the moment he'd entered the little stretch of sparse woodland. The scent of blood hit his nostrils before the sight of vermin did – and when he saw what was left of his house and his family, the young badger fell to the curse of which all badger warriors eventually succumbed; bloodwrath.

It was a terrible sight, witnessing a young badger go berserk with rage, the pure, instinctual desire to rip apart that which caused him to lose so much...
Braythe's skills in tracking were average on the best of days, but on the day his family were murdered, Braythe hunted for Rurik like a mad beast. Enslaved to his bloodwrath now, his wretched curse took ahold of him for three solid days, Braythe unable to come to his senses before finally collapsing on the fourth day of tracking.

In his bloodwrath-induced exhaustion, Braythe had not been aware that the very warlord he'd been tracking was only half a mile away, setting up camp on the remains of a small village his hordebeasts had been quick to pillage.

It wasn't long before Rurik's vermin found the exhausted young badger and dragged him back to camp – bound so tightly, even shaking his tail would've been impossible.

(c)

[.:Fawn:.]

~~To Hellgates!~~

Braythe spent six months as the captive of Rurik the Savage, and the trophy piece of the Warlord's army. Everywhere Rurik went, Braythe, bound and chained, followed on a short leash – the sable's obvious trump card when getting villages and strongholds to surrender, the presence of the young badger meant to convey the message that “I've taken down the most fearsome of beasts, what makes you think I can't deal with you either?”

It was quite an effective tool.

Braythe – humiliated, chained up, starved, but not defeated – began to wait, his hatred growing like a bitter seed inside of his gut – all eyes locked upon the Warlord who'd killed his family and imprisoned him. Rurik the Savage had made a grave error, insisting that he understood Braythe's mindset, insisting that the badger was no match for him. What Rurik the Savage hadn't accounted for, was the lengths Braythe would go to stay alive.

Knowing he couldn't last much longer without food, the young badger began to devour his guards.

At first, the Warlord regarded this as a fluke – that one of his guards had simply been frightened of the young badger (who was admittedly a terrifying sight, even as a captive) and ran off – but the presence of several pieces of jewelry and a few red stains on Braythe's fur were telltale signs of something wrong.
For a week this carried on, the guards on duty to Braythe's cell suddenly disappearing when it was time to change shifts – now two at a time. Rurik, preoccupied by his other duties and ambitions, could not keep worrying about his guards getting eaten by some berserk badger. Halting all guard patrols around Braythe's cell, he assigned one of his trusted captains, Klunney, to keep an eye on the badger.

A week ago, Klunney would've made a match for the starved, young badger, but after seven days of devouring his enemies, Braythe had grown strong.

Strong enough to get out.

It was when Klunney opened his cell to reprimand him that Braythe struck, having lured the weasel within range of his chains – a single, hate-laden swipe killing Klunney in an instant. Rurik had put too much trust in Klunney, and gave too little notice to the badger he'd been tormenting for months.

Klunney had had the keys on him when he died, and Braythe, able to get his chains off before bloodwrath seized him, wrought Hell upon the army of Rurik the Savage – sending at least two and a half scores of vermin to the black iron gates of the Dark Forest, the badger screaming for blood.

Rurik the Savage had not been there.

Braythe would find him, and then he would crush him into the dirt until every last bit of that creature's life was squeezed out of him. Then he would mount the warlord's head on a stake, upon the border of the Northlands as a warning to any beast who came here with ill intentions.

~~ A Title Gained~~

It took Braythe 5 years to face the sable warlord, those 20 seasons spent training and growing stronger, fighting many vermin and rescuing dozens more from the deadly paws of Rurik the Savage. He became an outlaw of sorts, and for a few hearty meals and a place to sleep for the night, he would bring vengeance upon the vermin, slay those who had slain your family, or rescue a husband, brother or child out from under the warlord's feet.

When that day of destruction came, Braythe faced Rurik the Savage and his armies alone.
Well, almost alone.

The beaten, broken and the downtrodden creatures who had been living under the sable's heel, rose up to fight alongside the young badger, and fire roared in their bellies, their weapons grew sharp, and their hearts grew steeled as Braythe led the charge into enemy territory.

Braythe cut off Rurik's head with his own sword, took his title, and mounted it on a stake exactly as he said he would.

Thus began the career of Braythe the Savage, vermin hunter, who feared no beast and challenged all, the badger (18 upon the day he killed Rurik) spend the next ten years of his life taking back the Northlands. The Land of Ice and Snow had become property of the white badger – or 'white death', as all vermin knew him by – and any beast with dark thoughts knew to avoid those lands like the plague. Because it was always the same story – Braythe would catch wind of your presence, he would hunt you down, even in the harshest of weather conditions, and then he would get rid of you.
And the snow would cover up any signs of a struggle, as though you hadn't even been there at all...

~~Death or Glory~~

Braythe was 29 years old when he received the call to the mountain stronghold, and, after a few words from Gorath the Flame, Braythe the Savage gave in to his destiny. Following the path the previous badger rulers had set before him, the white badger trudged to the fortress of Salamandastron, kicked in the doors and demanded to know 'what it was going to take to get a decent bite to eat around here'.

The rest is history.

Other:

Braythe's name comes from the Welsh/old English word 'braith', which means black & white or red & white. I thought it was appropriate for a Badger Lord who changes color.

Braythe's current forge project is crafting a giant thunderbolt out of a strange, shiny new metal he found. If he can actually make it into the desired shape he wants, all I know is some vermin Warlord is getting a lightning bolt through the heart.

Some other things about his personality that I couldn't find a place for:

• Braythe has a terrible singing voice, as discovered by a few unfortunate recruits who asked him for a few rounds of "The Long Patrol Chant".
  
  
• He is extremely fond of all types of weaponry, from the sling to the spear, to the warhammer, and he's even more fond of giving them ridiculously dramatic names. i.e., Hellbringer.
  
  
• His chosen battle cry, before he became a Badger Lord, is "Come and taste death!" with usually a few barbaric yells before and after it.
  
  
• Braythe has an enormous sweet tooth, and in spite of this he manages to keep his teeth extremely clean. He once met a mouse whose teeth were literally rotting in their mouth...and ever since then, has developed a weird form of Odontophobia (fear of teeth, only he's afraid of his own teeth falling out).
  
  
• He has about six meals a day, one of which is labeled as 'afternoon tea', except there's no tea as he has no taste for the stuff. He finds tea boring.
  
  
• He finds reading boring, and it's fortunate that he has a photographic memory, otherwise he'd be forced to read the autobiography of Boar the Fighter another six times before it starts sinking in.
  
  
• Braythe obtained the wolf pelt shortly after he had escaped capture from Rurik the Savage. He had returned to his ancestral home to bury his kinbeasts (or what was left of them), and found that the winter had frozen them both solid -- the coming spring just starting to thaw them out again. It was here that he met the wolf, trying to gnaw on the half-frozen carcasses of his mother and his sister. After a long, gruesome battle, Braythe, soul on fire with the sting of bloodwrath, came out the victor, and claimed the wolf's pelt as a trophy. He has kept it ever since.
  
  
• Braythe has recently fashioned a pair of sharkskin boots for himself, and some of the older officers have started spreading a rumor about how he acquired them.
  They've been telling the gullible new recruits that Lord Braythe went up and punched a couple of sharks because his 'wolverine hide' boots had worn out and he needed new ones. This, of course, is entirely not true, nor as he ever at one point owned boots made from wolverine hide.
  
  But he wouldn't say no if someone offered to make him some...
  

Made with permission from Tracy.

=)

Sorry about the length guys! ^^; I don't know what else to tell you. I got...very carried away...

[Tracy]

Well! I can't find anything wrong with this! I'm cool with accepting this as Badger Lord. To Wild or Prank to outright approve this. =)

[.:Fawn:.]

=) Awesome, thanks Tracy!

Now poor Prank or Wild have to read this obnoxiously long profile. ^^; yeesh.

[Prankster101]

I am amazed. End of story. ;D

APPROVED!!!!!






_{(Posted while still a staff member of this site)}