Valdyrdólg
Name: Valdyrdólg
Title: The War Dog
Height: 146 cm
Weight: 110 kg
Age: a thousand thousand moons waxed since the night these bones clawed forth from the grave
Race: Skeletal Direhound
Influence: 3 (regional); Animated Canine Corpse
Group(s): The Lycholme Cultists
Appearance: the towering skeleton of a direwolf, clung to by tatters of decaying fur and flesh, this menacing predator gazes forth with crimson motes hovering in the midst of its skull's orbits. Rust-tinged black armor clings implausibly to its back, forearms, and brow, secured by supermundane or subdaemonic forces.
Personality: Territorial, visceral, and violent, this beast will attack on the slightest pretext.
Abilities, Talents, Traits, Powers:
- ( 3 ) Howl -- an otherworldly vociferation that chills bone and rattles will, this howl is loud enough to temporarily deafen those near and be heard above the din of a great battle. The menacing tone lingers in the mind, breeding fear, doubt, and distraction.
- ( 2 ) Death Speech -- limited to barks, growls, and howls in life, the direwolf, in death, manifests its thoughts in a language understood by all, not by way of tongue, but via ghostly intonations reminescent of bones scraping bones and wind rustling pines in the dead of winter.
- ( 3 ) Undead -- even if its armor is cast aside and its bones strewn about, its damned spirit will eventually gather together the pieces and assemble again the whole.
Items:
- ( 3 ) Svartr -- grimy, dirt-caked, and flecked with rust and blood, this black armor held in place by the damned soul of a former life protects the wearer from crushing blows that would otherwise shatter bone. Similarly, the blackguard spirit that pervades its essence consumes light, deflects fire, and inflicts rot into living things that alight on its surface.
History: From the ruins of an unmarked grave amidst a swamp of gore from a battle ages past clawed forth a metal-girded beast of bone. Its semi-rational mind awakened, it now seeks to inflict pain on those who might have used it as a tool in its past. Even then, little pretext is needed to incite its ire and engage its teeth and claws.
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