Post by Credence Power on May 6, 2019 20:20:13 GMT -5
NOAH CREDENCE ALICK POWER
The Character
Name: Noah Credence Alick Power
Nicknames: Creed
Gender: Male (He/him)
Age: 36
Race: Gnoll/Furbolg
Rank: Nobleman
Job: Owner of a large successful brothel
Personality:
History:
Creed hails from a more distant land, the northern nation of Oswia, which sits separated from the rest of the continent by mountains and a large curving river. Life in Oswia was rough to say the least. The last king squandered all of his money building himself a new palace and Creed’s father was a worker on this project, a builder and craftsman by trade who, usually, made fine trinkets and bits and bobs- ornate doorknobs and cast iron pots with carvings on them, that sort of thing- when the king’s business was his own. But Creed knows that Oswia as a whole was failing economically so his father took up the extra work, helping build the palace that would leave his country broke. Creed does not know why his Gnoll father was so dedicated to the king, but his furbolg ‘Dad’ explained that it was good to have faith in ones decisions, even when everyone else tells you that you are wrong.
Creed tried to follow his dad’s advice but, when he was about six years old, a warm summer melted the snow that always seemed to cover the Oswian mountains, soaking the ground beneath part of the palace, which caused part of the structure to collapse. Creed’s father was killed in this accident. His dad, a former adventurer who had retired to take care of the family, could not make any money for them to survive, not to mention the intense grief he felt at losing his mate. Their financial status fell even further until they were so desperate for food that they were eating dog food and cow feed. It was miserable, nights were always cold and the king, despite their pleas for some relief, ignored them. Creed’s dad died on his seventh birthday after growing ill and having no money to pay a doctor for a remedy. Now orphaned, Creed was immediately sold into slavery, his country abandoning him completely in order to save their own skin, their own ideas, their own plans. He wasn’t a cog in the wheel of a great machine, he was rust on an old sword, something to be thrown away. He was not valuable, so very early on in his life, he decided to make himself valuable. Not to the king but to the people, the ones he watched starve, the ones with no shoes for their feet, no bread for their bellies, not even a crumb. That was who he fought for, not for some fat guy on a throne.
He was shipped off as soon as the kings men heard that he was an orphan, carted south to a coliseum where he was a lowly servant. He spent most of his childhood there, sweeping up dust, mopping away blood (which seemed to be everywhere in the ancient structure), serving food to the more profitable fighters and clearing the bodies of the less profitable ones. It was mindless, sickening work, he often went without food because he was worth less than even the animals in that place, he was a useless, spineless, disrespectful boy. When a particular gladiator was giving him a problem, Creed spit in his face in defiance, and the warrior tossed him, picking up his sword to strike the boy down but he too had picked up a sword and in one cleverly placed swing, Creed was able to decapitate the man, much to the shock of onlookers. From that day forward, he was a gladiator, the youngest ever at only 14.
He fought in the arena for… too long. He lost track of the days, the weeks, the years of eating slop and spilling blood. At least he didn’t have to clean it up anymore. Occasionally there would be tournaments, especially when foreign diplomats visited the city, and when he would dominate those tournaments, he would be given some money or other valuable thing as a prize. He made a decent living as a fighter in that way, even being gifted two Vayrons- a type of wingless dragon native to his home country of Oswia- as a prize after a chariot race. At first, the dragons were just tools, weapons he could use in the ring, but as they spent more time together and Creed used his money to benefit them- feed them, water them, sleep with them in the stalls instead of in the bunkhouse with the other fighters- he grew attached to the animals and went back to fighting with just his sword, instead of fighting in a chariot. He didn’t want his new babies to be killed, they were his only reminder of home. Not that home was much to remember but it was all that he could do to keep from going insane in that place.
Eventually, Creed found himself in a battle royale, the winner of which was supposed to earn their freedom. The now Adult Creed came away the victor, no one was surprised, he was a prized fighter, an excellent gladiator- ruthless and cold but also cunning and swift. He was too valuable to let go and the aristocracy turned their backs on him again, denying him his prize. But sitting down and letting people walk over him was something Creed was never going to be good at. So he fought, slashed his way through the coliseum underground to come up behind the press box where the politicians sat and only after he decapitated two of their guards, and he had to stab one of the politicians when she tried to get him first, the rest submitted and he was… “freed”. This was when Creed learned that politics and charisma were the way to get what he really wanted. They did not want a big strong bear-hyena man running around in town, scaring all of the children. So he was freed from the coliseum, but not from his chains and slavery. He was sold at an auction, back to his days of mopping vomit and cleaning other people’s piss and such. Rust on an old sword.
He was passed around for a while, a very unattractive slave in a nation run by humans, so usually he was kept out of sight- in basements or in kitchens. He was almost 30 when he met Hideo- an old but still sound Nekojin, a race of beastmen hailing from the southern country of Tatsuta. He didn’t look like much at first, but was surprised by how kind and generous Creed was, despite the obvious scaring on his body from his time in the ring. He looked tired and worn, moreso even than the hunched over old man, but was still civil and polite, despite his race, despite the cruel treatment. This was incredibly inspiring to the similarly generous old man, so he immediately asked Creed’s master to buy him. He paid the man twice as much as he asked for, saying that “this one was worth it”. It turned out that the old man ran a brothel in a nation even further south called Kotar and at first he seemed to be daft, they had no means of travel, the nekojin was just visiting the city and Creed had never been anywhere but his northern home in Oswia. But the old man, Creed very quickly learned, was far too clever to not have a plan.
They went back to the coliseum and freed his two Vayrons, hijacking a fruit cart and getting the hell out of Dodge before anyone even knew what had happened.
So, Creed became a servant at the brothel, occasionally performing sexual acts for money, but because he was a big and burly beast of a man, very few clients really had any interest in him. So instead, he served as an escort and bodyguard instead, guarding the brothel at night, taking some of the whores shopping in the morning, that sort of thing. He was given a lot of freedom, Hideo trusted him to return and, in the man’s debt, he did always return. But one day not long ago, the old man was found dead in his bed. He was really old so no one suspected anything, it was just his time to go. The surprising part was in his will. He had left everything to Creed. The hybrid had spent a lot of time with his master, chatting and listening in on discussions had with other highborn figures in town, sometimes even asked for his opinion. The brute learned a lot from the old man, and hit the ground running as the brothel’s new owner. He used most of the money he’d made to redecorate the place, to modernize it and to update its clientele. He tried to build it to appease knights and soldiers, as well as anyone who wanted to walk on the wildside, so to speak. Most of the prostitutes now are beast men and women, so it takes a bit of tolerance but those who love animals, it’s their only source of refuge.
Inheriting the brothel and all of its money, as well as his freedom, Creed woke up one morning a slave and laid down that night as a nobleman. He fell into the role like a fish to water and has been running the place for over a year now. It’s a very successful place that doesn’t even charge that much, a lot of cheap but dedicated service, Creed runs a tight ship. It’s clean, it’s spacious, and both men and women are available there. It’s become something of a landmark of Zikhost, everyone who is anyone knows about the Crowned Wolf and The Whispered Word. Some people even whisper back, revealing things about their living situation, their jobs, their homes, the very streets they walked upon. Creed has taken it upon himself to take advantage of this, relaying the information back to the royal counsel in a hopes that things could be spruced up for the sake of the people. Though he can be bribed by improvements on his own situation, a little bit too ambitious, too proud, too interested in his own security to decline a bribe outright, but he does honest and truly want to help the people. Specifically, refugees from Oswia.
Powers/Abilities:
Trivia:
Behind the Scenes
Name/Nickname: Thor
Nicknames: Creed
Gender: Male (He/him)
Age: 36
Race: Gnoll/Furbolg
Rank: Nobleman
Job: Owner of a large successful brothel
Personality:
- Gregarious, Outgoing, Extroverted- Probably the most apparent thing about the creature who calls himself Creed is that he is very outgoing, gaining energy from social interactions rather than losing it. Being around people makes him feel young, he loves to chat and tell stories, even to people who would rather not hear them, and though this can overwhelm some of his more introverted friends, he can generally tell when it's time to talk and when it's time to listen, although he bores very quickly if he can't put in his two cents.
- Noble, Altruistic, Humanitarian- Though terribly self-centered with a tendency not to trust others at first, so used to being judged and criticized for his species, deep down Creed has a heart that loves people. He wants everyone in town to be heard, he has a bit of a rebellious streak in him that makes him feel like the Royal Family is not working hard enough to better the little people- the slaves and the whores, the orphaned children and the struggling farmer. Creed takes it upon himself to be a Reeve for the people, reporting to the king's counsel about once a month to update them on what the people want and need. It's all talking and politics, something that Creed is very good at, he is intelligent and witty and can hold his own in a debate despite his brutish appearance. Though he has never told anyone this, he does not like the way that beastmen like himself are treated here in Kotar and though he'd much rather simply convince the king to do something about this, Creed has recently been thinking that it might be more effective to find a better more compassionate king.
- Obsessive, Self-centered, Unscrupulous- Though he likes to be the voice of the people, to represent the unrepresented creatures of society, Creed is built upon many layers. So, though he seems benevolent at first glance, he is actually quite petty and even a little immoral. He will do anything to get what he wants, and though he doesn't want the crown, he wants someone to have it who will stand up for people like him, the animals and beastmen of the world. He will do anything to get what he wants. Recently, this has meant hogging a certain prostitute that he bought from an auction, paid a good price for him because he is also a beast, a half furbolg beast at that. He's a little too shallow to see that he loves the other hybrid, but he is definitely obsessed with him, following him everywhere and threatening people who dare to cross either of them. He can have a bit of a temper sometimes, a little childish in his need to have things his way.
- Creative, Eccentric, Resourceful- Creed is nothing if not a clever little bastard (note: he is not actually little, he's like 7 ft tall). He can convince a polar bear to buy more ice, he can woo queens and charm children so that they can spread messages for him. Not only is he determined when he wants something, but he can be downright deceitful in his attempts to get it. He has a lot of money, a big successful business, and is friendly and easy-going with just about everyone that he meets. He has a lot of power in these things and he does and is not ashamed of using such things to his advantage, whatever that advantage may be.
History:
Creed hails from a more distant land, the northern nation of Oswia, which sits separated from the rest of the continent by mountains and a large curving river. Life in Oswia was rough to say the least. The last king squandered all of his money building himself a new palace and Creed’s father was a worker on this project, a builder and craftsman by trade who, usually, made fine trinkets and bits and bobs- ornate doorknobs and cast iron pots with carvings on them, that sort of thing- when the king’s business was his own. But Creed knows that Oswia as a whole was failing economically so his father took up the extra work, helping build the palace that would leave his country broke. Creed does not know why his Gnoll father was so dedicated to the king, but his furbolg ‘Dad’ explained that it was good to have faith in ones decisions, even when everyone else tells you that you are wrong.
Creed tried to follow his dad’s advice but, when he was about six years old, a warm summer melted the snow that always seemed to cover the Oswian mountains, soaking the ground beneath part of the palace, which caused part of the structure to collapse. Creed’s father was killed in this accident. His dad, a former adventurer who had retired to take care of the family, could not make any money for them to survive, not to mention the intense grief he felt at losing his mate. Their financial status fell even further until they were so desperate for food that they were eating dog food and cow feed. It was miserable, nights were always cold and the king, despite their pleas for some relief, ignored them. Creed’s dad died on his seventh birthday after growing ill and having no money to pay a doctor for a remedy. Now orphaned, Creed was immediately sold into slavery, his country abandoning him completely in order to save their own skin, their own ideas, their own plans. He wasn’t a cog in the wheel of a great machine, he was rust on an old sword, something to be thrown away. He was not valuable, so very early on in his life, he decided to make himself valuable. Not to the king but to the people, the ones he watched starve, the ones with no shoes for their feet, no bread for their bellies, not even a crumb. That was who he fought for, not for some fat guy on a throne.
He was shipped off as soon as the kings men heard that he was an orphan, carted south to a coliseum where he was a lowly servant. He spent most of his childhood there, sweeping up dust, mopping away blood (which seemed to be everywhere in the ancient structure), serving food to the more profitable fighters and clearing the bodies of the less profitable ones. It was mindless, sickening work, he often went without food because he was worth less than even the animals in that place, he was a useless, spineless, disrespectful boy. When a particular gladiator was giving him a problem, Creed spit in his face in defiance, and the warrior tossed him, picking up his sword to strike the boy down but he too had picked up a sword and in one cleverly placed swing, Creed was able to decapitate the man, much to the shock of onlookers. From that day forward, he was a gladiator, the youngest ever at only 14.
He fought in the arena for… too long. He lost track of the days, the weeks, the years of eating slop and spilling blood. At least he didn’t have to clean it up anymore. Occasionally there would be tournaments, especially when foreign diplomats visited the city, and when he would dominate those tournaments, he would be given some money or other valuable thing as a prize. He made a decent living as a fighter in that way, even being gifted two Vayrons- a type of wingless dragon native to his home country of Oswia- as a prize after a chariot race. At first, the dragons were just tools, weapons he could use in the ring, but as they spent more time together and Creed used his money to benefit them- feed them, water them, sleep with them in the stalls instead of in the bunkhouse with the other fighters- he grew attached to the animals and went back to fighting with just his sword, instead of fighting in a chariot. He didn’t want his new babies to be killed, they were his only reminder of home. Not that home was much to remember but it was all that he could do to keep from going insane in that place.
Eventually, Creed found himself in a battle royale, the winner of which was supposed to earn their freedom. The now Adult Creed came away the victor, no one was surprised, he was a prized fighter, an excellent gladiator- ruthless and cold but also cunning and swift. He was too valuable to let go and the aristocracy turned their backs on him again, denying him his prize. But sitting down and letting people walk over him was something Creed was never going to be good at. So he fought, slashed his way through the coliseum underground to come up behind the press box where the politicians sat and only after he decapitated two of their guards, and he had to stab one of the politicians when she tried to get him first, the rest submitted and he was… “freed”. This was when Creed learned that politics and charisma were the way to get what he really wanted. They did not want a big strong bear-hyena man running around in town, scaring all of the children. So he was freed from the coliseum, but not from his chains and slavery. He was sold at an auction, back to his days of mopping vomit and cleaning other people’s piss and such. Rust on an old sword.
He was passed around for a while, a very unattractive slave in a nation run by humans, so usually he was kept out of sight- in basements or in kitchens. He was almost 30 when he met Hideo- an old but still sound Nekojin, a race of beastmen hailing from the southern country of Tatsuta. He didn’t look like much at first, but was surprised by how kind and generous Creed was, despite the obvious scaring on his body from his time in the ring. He looked tired and worn, moreso even than the hunched over old man, but was still civil and polite, despite his race, despite the cruel treatment. This was incredibly inspiring to the similarly generous old man, so he immediately asked Creed’s master to buy him. He paid the man twice as much as he asked for, saying that “this one was worth it”. It turned out that the old man ran a brothel in a nation even further south called Kotar and at first he seemed to be daft, they had no means of travel, the nekojin was just visiting the city and Creed had never been anywhere but his northern home in Oswia. But the old man, Creed very quickly learned, was far too clever to not have a plan.
They went back to the coliseum and freed his two Vayrons, hijacking a fruit cart and getting the hell out of Dodge before anyone even knew what had happened.
So, Creed became a servant at the brothel, occasionally performing sexual acts for money, but because he was a big and burly beast of a man, very few clients really had any interest in him. So instead, he served as an escort and bodyguard instead, guarding the brothel at night, taking some of the whores shopping in the morning, that sort of thing. He was given a lot of freedom, Hideo trusted him to return and, in the man’s debt, he did always return. But one day not long ago, the old man was found dead in his bed. He was really old so no one suspected anything, it was just his time to go. The surprising part was in his will. He had left everything to Creed. The hybrid had spent a lot of time with his master, chatting and listening in on discussions had with other highborn figures in town, sometimes even asked for his opinion. The brute learned a lot from the old man, and hit the ground running as the brothel’s new owner. He used most of the money he’d made to redecorate the place, to modernize it and to update its clientele. He tried to build it to appease knights and soldiers, as well as anyone who wanted to walk on the wildside, so to speak. Most of the prostitutes now are beast men and women, so it takes a bit of tolerance but those who love animals, it’s their only source of refuge.
Inheriting the brothel and all of its money, as well as his freedom, Creed woke up one morning a slave and laid down that night as a nobleman. He fell into the role like a fish to water and has been running the place for over a year now. It’s a very successful place that doesn’t even charge that much, a lot of cheap but dedicated service, Creed runs a tight ship. It’s clean, it’s spacious, and both men and women are available there. It’s become something of a landmark of Zikhost, everyone who is anyone knows about the Crowned Wolf and The Whispered Word. Some people even whisper back, revealing things about their living situation, their jobs, their homes, the very streets they walked upon. Creed has taken it upon himself to take advantage of this, relaying the information back to the royal counsel in a hopes that things could be spruced up for the sake of the people. Though he can be bribed by improvements on his own situation, a little bit too ambitious, too proud, too interested in his own security to decline a bribe outright, but he does honest and truly want to help the people. Specifically, refugees from Oswia.
Powers/Abilities:
- Physical Strength- Being a large and beefy animal of a man, Creed can knock a man's jaw clean off his face with a single punch. He is tall and powerful, but not at all wiry. He's a powerhouse, muscular and fit and terribly stocky. His speed suffers thanks to his somewhat short legs, but what he lacks in maneuverability he makes up for in sheer power.
- Damage Resistance- Being a big, burly guy with a lot of muscle and a lot of stamina, Creed is pretty resistant to damage, particularly injuries from blunt objects. He does not bruise easily and even if you hit him hard enough to leave a mark, he will return the favor ten fold. Basically, he's not the kind of guy you want to get in a fight with. He's big, he's strong, his organs are surrounded by a thick layer of fat that keeps him warm and solidly built, and though he has no supernatural healing abilities, he does come back after a fight with very few scratches and often times no infections. He's just a big healthy boy.
- Heightened Senses and Awareness- Thanks to his days of being ambushed in the ring, older and wiser Creed is almost impossible to sneak up on. Because he is part polar furbolg, he has an incredible sense of smell that is even more accurate than that of a bloodhound. He can pick someone out of a massive crowd and can gain information of a person's identity even from a great distance. His eyesight is also very keen.
Trivia:
- He likes to draw and is a talented sketch artist. Mostly, he uses the men and women of his brothel as subjects, sometimes having them pose for him. If a guest wants to pose for a drawing they may, though he charges about 100 silver if that guest wants to keep the sketch.
- Because he's such a large guy, he is terribly resistant to drugs and alcohol. He can really hold his booze well. He can down a whole keg of wine or ale without breaking a sweat and even harder drinks like Rum and Whiskey take some time to knock him on his ass. Usually, he's that one sober friend putting all of his drunken drinking buddies to bed.
- He travels mostly by carriage, which is pulled by two creatures called 'Vayrons'. They are a breed of drake- wingless ground dwelling dragons- and though they are not much larger than a horse, they can spew fire and can use fire magic to help them move faster if they need to get away from something. Their names are Gabriel and Balthazar.They were recently joined by a third vayron that Creed found in the basement of a ruined fort. He is a beautiful white friese Vayron which are rare and expensive, so though he is having some trouble taming the wild drake, they both trust each other enough that it's not too bad riding him from time to time. His name is Django
- A little bit childish at heart with a wacky, jovial sense of humor, Creed likes to play games, especially drinking games. But he also really loves soccer or anything involving kicking with his feet. He's not keen on the running part and can instead be found out on the front porch of his brothel just bouncing a ball around like a five year old. He's actually pretty talented with it and can do a couple of tricks... if his claws don't pop the ball first.
- As you might expect from someone at the head of a brothel, Creed enjoys a good romp in the bedroom. He can be very flirty and mischievous but never to the point of betraying a bedmate. He is often found in his favorite lounge chair in front of a glorious stained glass window, with somebody perched in his lap or on his knee. He is so casual about it that he will often have political discussions with people while performing sex acts. It just makes him feel powerful and he likes to show off. His prostitutes are hand chosen and many are beast men and women, the kind of sex workers that other establishments would turn away. In this way, his brothel is well known for species diversity and specializes in animal based kinks.
- In regards to his species, Furbolgs are a primitive race of bear creatures not usually found in Kotar proper but are plentiful in forests from which Creed hales. The thing that makes them interesting is that all furbolgs are male, they are able to reproduce sexually but without women involved. So both of Creed's parents were men and his furbolg dad must've given birth to him at some point after some frisky activities. Gnolls on the other hand reproduce normally, so being a hybrid it's not clear if Creed himself can bare children as his father did.
- Because his house sigil is embossed everywhere and on everything, he is known by most people in town as "the crowned wolf".
Behind the Scenes
Name/Nickname: Thor
