In a wide open grassland as far as one could see marched forth a rather peculiar specimen. Its humanoid frame and bipedal locomotion would, from a distance, perhaps fool an untrained eye that this was a mere man. Such a misconception could quickly be realized upon further look. A white feathered head stood 6 and 3 quarters feet above the ground complimented by a bright yellow beak with a pronounced hook. Oval nares at the cream colored base of this rostrum breathed in the crisp air of the cloudless sunny environment. His gold rigid eyes methodically surveying the civilization out in the distance; the bony angled ridges above his brow providing a perpetual scowl.
Looped around the bottom of his neck feathers comparably to a scarf lay a russet mane of fur with streaks of golden yellow and black. Much like the rest of this creature's form, khaki brown pelage covered nearly the entirety of him with beige portions highlighting such on his robust physique. Following the motif of his mane, dark brown plumage lined along his waist and stopped just above his knees like a pair of trousers. The composite tail of this individual even protruded from a hole in the rear. Finishing this aesthetic and draped across his backside not unlike a cape was similarly hued feathered wings jutting from his shoulder blades. The brown pads of his sizable pawed feet pressed heavily against the ankle-high greenery in digitigrade fashion.
This being was called Tharraleos. His amalgamation of feline and avian attributes matched up to the mythical beasts known as Griffins. This particular one hailed from a subspecies designated as the Metallaxi. A shape-shifting race of warrior hunters, they frequently alternate between suppressed anthropomorphic forms and quadruped titans with berserker mentalities. The latter is often far too taxing and can even accelerate aging with overuse. Legends among these heraldic hybrids tell of a 3rd metamorphosis that unifies the 2 into the peak pinnacle of power. His kind was scattered across the globe years ago after a wicked warlock invaded his home and enslaved most of his people. Including himself while encased in his egg after his parents were seemingly slain.
Tharr was born into the legion of combatants this wielder of magic had amassed over the course of decades. While the archaic abilities of this villain were remarkable, he specialized in the 7 Deadly Sins. Forging semi-sentient essences of each, his underlings were used as hosts where symbiosis would take place. Not only did this provide enhancements, but it allowed a mental link to be formed for communication or punish betrayal. While meek at first, it only took a few victories for the ego of Tharraleos to be manifested, so he was chosen for Pride. After noting the Griffin's fascination with armed combat, the hubristic construct gifted him a personal armory of weapons he can create from internal energies so long as it has subconscious vanity to feed from.
Ever since his captor's defeat years ago, the bird cat became a nomad with his newfound freedom. With someone with such a foreboding presence, he actually enjoyed the simpler things in life. Literature. Fine wines. Meditation. Aimlessly wandering the world to bask in its natural majesty. Perhaps he'd be more scholarly if he wasn't forced into calamity as an infant. Regardless, he couldn't deny the primal urges he acknowledged would've always been present. Rather docile and amicable by nature, the bloodshed from a skirmish comes with it a sense of catharsis. An undeniable alpha predator, this was a given.
On this current day, Tharraleos was routinely on an adventure with no discernible end. It was always about the journey rather than the destination with him. He had been traveling for days with nigh nonexistent interaction with others, so the sight of the kingdom far ahead would likely prove entertaining. If he was lucky, he may even be welcomed without much conflict. He was genuinely hoping to relax instead of dismantling an army, but his instincts told him otherwise. The digits of his bulky paws stretched out as he couldn't help but anticipate the inevitable.
Looped around the bottom of his neck feathers comparably to a scarf lay a russet mane of fur with streaks of golden yellow and black. Much like the rest of this creature's form, khaki brown pelage covered nearly the entirety of him with beige portions highlighting such on his robust physique. Following the motif of his mane, dark brown plumage lined along his waist and stopped just above his knees like a pair of trousers. The composite tail of this individual even protruded from a hole in the rear. Finishing this aesthetic and draped across his backside not unlike a cape was similarly hued feathered wings jutting from his shoulder blades. The brown pads of his sizable pawed feet pressed heavily against the ankle-high greenery in digitigrade fashion.
This being was called Tharraleos. His amalgamation of feline and avian attributes matched up to the mythical beasts known as Griffins. This particular one hailed from a subspecies designated as the Metallaxi. A shape-shifting race of warrior hunters, they frequently alternate between suppressed anthropomorphic forms and quadruped titans with berserker mentalities. The latter is often far too taxing and can even accelerate aging with overuse. Legends among these heraldic hybrids tell of a 3rd metamorphosis that unifies the 2 into the peak pinnacle of power. His kind was scattered across the globe years ago after a wicked warlock invaded his home and enslaved most of his people. Including himself while encased in his egg after his parents were seemingly slain.
Tharr was born into the legion of combatants this wielder of magic had amassed over the course of decades. While the archaic abilities of this villain were remarkable, he specialized in the 7 Deadly Sins. Forging semi-sentient essences of each, his underlings were used as hosts where symbiosis would take place. Not only did this provide enhancements, but it allowed a mental link to be formed for communication or punish betrayal. While meek at first, it only took a few victories for the ego of Tharraleos to be manifested, so he was chosen for Pride. After noting the Griffin's fascination with armed combat, the hubristic construct gifted him a personal armory of weapons he can create from internal energies so long as it has subconscious vanity to feed from.
Ever since his captor's defeat years ago, the bird cat became a nomad with his newfound freedom. With someone with such a foreboding presence, he actually enjoyed the simpler things in life. Literature. Fine wines. Meditation. Aimlessly wandering the world to bask in its natural majesty. Perhaps he'd be more scholarly if he wasn't forced into calamity as an infant. Regardless, he couldn't deny the primal urges he acknowledged would've always been present. Rather docile and amicable by nature, the bloodshed from a skirmish comes with it a sense of catharsis. An undeniable alpha predator, this was a given.
On this current day, Tharraleos was routinely on an adventure with no discernible end. It was always about the journey rather than the destination with him. He had been traveling for days with nigh nonexistent interaction with others, so the sight of the kingdom far ahead would likely prove entertaining. If he was lucky, he may even be welcomed without much conflict. He was genuinely hoping to relax instead of dismantling an army, but his instincts told him otherwise. The digits of his bulky paws stretched out as he couldn't help but anticipate the inevitable.
..
A nearby farmer watched the beast come into view. "The bloody 'ell..?" He turned his head, looking at the beast with his hoe, before watching it more closely and realizing the problem, mounting a horse and leaving his hoe behind as he sped to the nearby fort, Fort Leadbladen.
The farmer entered the fort, requesting an audience with the commander of the fort. Soon he walked into the Commander's Quarters, where a man was looking over a map, moving pieces representing armies and people around, seemingly trying to figure out a new strategy for an ongoing war when he noticed the farmer. "Greetings civilian. What is your need?"
"Commander Leadbladen, I was toiling in my fields but I noticed this... beast. It looks like a griffon of sorts... but at the same time not. I believe it poses a threat to the Kingdom." The farmer responded. "I'll dispatch Captain Kelsin to look at this threat... and see if it's indeed a threat or friendly. You are dismissed civilian." Statan responded, and as the farmer left, Statan walked over to the barracks, informing his sister of her mission.
Kelsin took 3 men with her and rode on horses to the farmer's field, looking at Tharr. "Write down anything you notice about him, I'm going in close." She said, riding over to Tharr. "Hello beast."
The farmer entered the fort, requesting an audience with the commander of the fort. Soon he walked into the Commander's Quarters, where a man was looking over a map, moving pieces representing armies and people around, seemingly trying to figure out a new strategy for an ongoing war when he noticed the farmer. "Greetings civilian. What is your need?"
"Commander Leadbladen, I was toiling in my fields but I noticed this... beast. It looks like a griffon of sorts... but at the same time not. I believe it poses a threat to the Kingdom." The farmer responded. "I'll dispatch Captain Kelsin to look at this threat... and see if it's indeed a threat or friendly. You are dismissed civilian." Statan responded, and as the farmer left, Statan walked over to the barracks, informing his sister of her mission.
Kelsin took 3 men with her and rode on horses to the farmer's field, looking at Tharr. "Write down anything you notice about him, I'm going in close." She said, riding over to Tharr. "Hello beast."
As the warrior trekked forth, a handful of figures appeared into view and approached him with haste. It appeared he had already attracted the attention of the locals and it'd only be a matter of time before they'd cross paths. As their forms became distinctly visible, Tharraleos came to a halt and observed them reduced the remaining gap.
"Greetings humans." The Metallaxi responded with abundant gusto. His words were even paired with an arch of his torso and a bend of his right arm as he bowed somewhat. Standing upright once more, he analyzed his new acquaintances. Save for one, they appeared to be every day soldiers. Perhaps it would suffice as an appetizer to get the blood flowing. He did have a slight kink in his left shoulder they could perhaps assist with.
"I am but a nomadic traveller seeking hospitality within your kingdom." He continued. Despite his primitive appearance, he spoke with eloquence and proper inflections. The sheer vigor of his vocal cords meant a borderline baritone pitch emerged from his rostrum. Of which shifted into a subtle grin in at least some attempt to soften his exterior.
"I can be of great value to the King and his people. I boast enough strength to overpower your entire armed forces." The proud combatant declared triumphantly. Such hubris in what he believed to be a genuine statement was a tasty morsel for the essence within and as such, chose to momentarily reveal itself as the gold of the Griff's eyes flashed a purple glow. Aside from his natural weapons of beak and claw, Tharr was unarmed. Even so, his aptitude on the battlefield is nigh supernatural. That didn't mean he couldn't have toys to add a layer of fun to it and with a stockpile of reserves from earlier thoughts, he decided to show these kind folks his tools of carnage. Extending his right arm to the side, particles of energy began to form into a spear shaped construct of hardlight manifested from internal sources. The Partizan of Perfection; a mid reaching 7 foot polearm that could easily reach the men on horseback. Physically resembling glass, he thrust the weapon at the air in different angles showcasing his majestic ferocity.
"Allow me to demonstrate." He finished, gripping it firmly with one paw and aiming the speartip at the group before somewhat pivoting back to a defensive stance. Forged around his vacant left arm was another from his stash. Resembling a Greek Aspis with a 4 foot diameter, the Extraordinary Escutcheon acted as a solid barrier that provides some level of control while allowing the rest of his body to remain nimble. With each construct having 4 reserves each, they were at 80% their full strength and a handful of reserves remained. Narrowing his eyes at the mortals, Tharraleos shifted his feet about and his tail swayed sideways as he braced himself for the battle ahead. With his spear balanced on his shield, he was prepared for both defense and an offensive counterattack.
"Greetings humans." The Metallaxi responded with abundant gusto. His words were even paired with an arch of his torso and a bend of his right arm as he bowed somewhat. Standing upright once more, he analyzed his new acquaintances. Save for one, they appeared to be every day soldiers. Perhaps it would suffice as an appetizer to get the blood flowing. He did have a slight kink in his left shoulder they could perhaps assist with.
"I am but a nomadic traveller seeking hospitality within your kingdom." He continued. Despite his primitive appearance, he spoke with eloquence and proper inflections. The sheer vigor of his vocal cords meant a borderline baritone pitch emerged from his rostrum. Of which shifted into a subtle grin in at least some attempt to soften his exterior.
"I can be of great value to the King and his people. I boast enough strength to overpower your entire armed forces." The proud combatant declared triumphantly. Such hubris in what he believed to be a genuine statement was a tasty morsel for the essence within and as such, chose to momentarily reveal itself as the gold of the Griff's eyes flashed a purple glow. Aside from his natural weapons of beak and claw, Tharr was unarmed. Even so, his aptitude on the battlefield is nigh supernatural. That didn't mean he couldn't have toys to add a layer of fun to it and with a stockpile of reserves from earlier thoughts, he decided to show these kind folks his tools of carnage. Extending his right arm to the side, particles of energy began to form into a spear shaped construct of hardlight manifested from internal sources. The Partizan of Perfection; a mid reaching 7 foot polearm that could easily reach the men on horseback. Physically resembling glass, he thrust the weapon at the air in different angles showcasing his majestic ferocity.
"Allow me to demonstrate." He finished, gripping it firmly with one paw and aiming the speartip at the group before somewhat pivoting back to a defensive stance. Forged around his vacant left arm was another from his stash. Resembling a Greek Aspis with a 4 foot diameter, the Extraordinary Escutcheon acted as a solid barrier that provides some level of control while allowing the rest of his body to remain nimble. With each construct having 4 reserves each, they were at 80% their full strength and a handful of reserves remained. Narrowing his eyes at the mortals, Tharraleos shifted his feet about and his tail swayed sideways as he braced himself for the battle ahead. With his spear balanced on his shield, he was prepared for both defense and an offensive counterattack.
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