Luxord.
I made a fan character. Sort of. He's a wolf version of Luxord from Kingdom Hearts. Since I don't know much about him, I had to wing it for a history. This is what I came up with.
Luxord didn’t live much of a childhood, and in truth it was possible that he grew up much too fast-hard times forced a pup to do that sort of thing. His sire and dame did little parenting, beyond whelping himself and his siblings, that was all they did. It was a dirty trick to even conceive upon those stipulations; however these were the way of things. Luxord therefore grew up most quickly, being forced to fend for himself among the harshness of a world he had only just known-something that brought forth a personality trait that might have otherwise been suppressed, his gambling streak. He, like the other whelps of his pathetic litter, had to make risks to survive, and one of the things they commonly did was steal scraps from a nearby village-not the brightest idea they had ever had, though there was little else for the pups that hadn’t even shed their milk teeth yet to do.
One day he and his siblings were caught in their thieving ways, by a particularly cruel and vengeful human of all things. One could not blame the man for his anger-in a food shortage, when even a mother wolf would abandon her young, man surely had no food to spare either. Luxord and each of his siblings were swept into a thatch basket, which was then bound and tossed into the nearby river. This caused terror amongst himself and his siblings, and while the bobbed in the waters, they each clawed and scrambled on top of each other in attempts to stay near the top of the basket, where there was air to be gasped. The weakest of the litter fell first, being pushed under by the paws of their own siblings, to drown there, their yaps and whimpers causing the anguish of those above them, though this was truly survival of the fittest. Each would surely drown in the end, but until then each puppy struggled to be the last survivor.
As luck would have it, another young man from the village-in fact, the son of he who cared for the domesticated beasts of the village had been following the actions of the other man in his village-the man had been known for his cruelty towards animals, and the young man had heard of his actions towards the wolf whelps, and in an act of compassion her swept the basket from the river, mere minutes after it had first been tossed in. However, it only takes minutes for a young creature to drown or be crushed beneath the mob mentality of the frightened, and many of the whelps had already met their fates that day. Two of them still survived though, one-Luxord, who sat atop his siblings, worn and wet, eyes terror filled. The other, who he sat upon, still gasping for air and scrambling. It was these two that had survived the terrible happenings of the day, and those two that would survive until tomorrow. They had gambled with fate that afternoon.
It was a pity that Luxord’s one surviving sibling couldn’t deal with the trauma dealt from nearly being drowned, and soon wasted away from sorrow and internal wounds. Luxord, while deeply disturbed by the events, held a will to survive despite this, and under the care of the young man he flourished. As he grew, he outshone the dogs of the village-how could he not? He dwarfed many of them, his feral structure capable of grinding the meek creatures-and Luxord was not unknown for causing scuffles from time to time. It was always for a reason however. Luxord wouldn’t cause something unless it in some way would benefit him in the end.
Another man in the village watched from afar as the golden-cream wolf conquered the fights he was in, amused and jealous that the animal-loving boy had his hands on such a fine specimen of a fighting animal. In time, the man would bargain the animal-loving boy to give him Luxord, and in the end he folded and Luxord’s fate changed yet again. He was now under the ownership of another man in the village, one that specialized in dog fights-nothing that was outlawed, though there were some that frowned upon it. Luxord was perfect for this sort of thing, his mentality and wit being enough to win many scuffles. Soon things became serious however, and he was put into fights against other beasts worthy of him-their strength sometimes outmatching his own. And yet still her conquered. For every fight like this that Luxord won, his new master would pierce his ear with a new earring-a sign of his victory, a badge. 8 consecutive victories before disaster struck the dog-fighting man and his village.
A rabid wolf attacked the village one night, something that had never happened to the nomadic people-a vile sickness it was, indeed. Panic ensued as the foaming, hulking creature hunted down dogs and children, even turning its crazed gaze upon the adults. Luxord could scent the illness long before it reached him-and while he was one to gamble, there was nothing for him to gain here anymore. He had learned and gotten what he could out of the village and it’s inhabitants, and instead of defending it as one more loyal might have, he turned tail and disappeared into the forest from whence he came. Upon his travels he met many, though now remembers few, until a fateful day when he came across the mysterious ‘X’ members, those he has resided with ever since.
Luxord didn’t live much of a childhood, and in truth it was possible that he grew up much too fast-hard times forced a pup to do that sort of thing. His sire and dame did little parenting, beyond whelping himself and his siblings, that was all they did. It was a dirty trick to even conceive upon those stipulations; however these were the way of things. Luxord therefore grew up most quickly, being forced to fend for himself among the harshness of a world he had only just known-something that brought forth a personality trait that might have otherwise been suppressed, his gambling streak. He, like the other whelps of his pathetic litter, had to make risks to survive, and one of the things they commonly did was steal scraps from a nearby village-not the brightest idea they had ever had, though there was little else for the pups that hadn’t even shed their milk teeth yet to do.
One day he and his siblings were caught in their thieving ways, by a particularly cruel and vengeful human of all things. One could not blame the man for his anger-in a food shortage, when even a mother wolf would abandon her young, man surely had no food to spare either. Luxord and each of his siblings were swept into a thatch basket, which was then bound and tossed into the nearby river. This caused terror amongst himself and his siblings, and while the bobbed in the waters, they each clawed and scrambled on top of each other in attempts to stay near the top of the basket, where there was air to be gasped. The weakest of the litter fell first, being pushed under by the paws of their own siblings, to drown there, their yaps and whimpers causing the anguish of those above them, though this was truly survival of the fittest. Each would surely drown in the end, but until then each puppy struggled to be the last survivor.
As luck would have it, another young man from the village-in fact, the son of he who cared for the domesticated beasts of the village had been following the actions of the other man in his village-the man had been known for his cruelty towards animals, and the young man had heard of his actions towards the wolf whelps, and in an act of compassion her swept the basket from the river, mere minutes after it had first been tossed in. However, it only takes minutes for a young creature to drown or be crushed beneath the mob mentality of the frightened, and many of the whelps had already met their fates that day. Two of them still survived though, one-Luxord, who sat atop his siblings, worn and wet, eyes terror filled. The other, who he sat upon, still gasping for air and scrambling. It was these two that had survived the terrible happenings of the day, and those two that would survive until tomorrow. They had gambled with fate that afternoon.
It was a pity that Luxord’s one surviving sibling couldn’t deal with the trauma dealt from nearly being drowned, and soon wasted away from sorrow and internal wounds. Luxord, while deeply disturbed by the events, held a will to survive despite this, and under the care of the young man he flourished. As he grew, he outshone the dogs of the village-how could he not? He dwarfed many of them, his feral structure capable of grinding the meek creatures-and Luxord was not unknown for causing scuffles from time to time. It was always for a reason however. Luxord wouldn’t cause something unless it in some way would benefit him in the end.
Another man in the village watched from afar as the golden-cream wolf conquered the fights he was in, amused and jealous that the animal-loving boy had his hands on such a fine specimen of a fighting animal. In time, the man would bargain the animal-loving boy to give him Luxord, and in the end he folded and Luxord’s fate changed yet again. He was now under the ownership of another man in the village, one that specialized in dog fights-nothing that was outlawed, though there were some that frowned upon it. Luxord was perfect for this sort of thing, his mentality and wit being enough to win many scuffles. Soon things became serious however, and he was put into fights against other beasts worthy of him-their strength sometimes outmatching his own. And yet still her conquered. For every fight like this that Luxord won, his new master would pierce his ear with a new earring-a sign of his victory, a badge. 8 consecutive victories before disaster struck the dog-fighting man and his village.
A rabid wolf attacked the village one night, something that had never happened to the nomadic people-a vile sickness it was, indeed. Panic ensued as the foaming, hulking creature hunted down dogs and children, even turning its crazed gaze upon the adults. Luxord could scent the illness long before it reached him-and while he was one to gamble, there was nothing for him to gain here anymore. He had learned and gotten what he could out of the village and it’s inhabitants, and instead of defending it as one more loyal might have, he turned tail and disappeared into the forest from whence he came. Upon his travels he met many, though now remembers few, until a fateful day when he came across the mysterious ‘X’ members, those he has resided with ever since.