((In case you can't read it up above, here ya go. Done by me.))

Dragoz: character background

This young rat-folk was, like most of his kin, born underground in a sewer system with one sister and two brothers. In a pack, all born at once in a dark corner under a man-hole. As an infant, he was rather curious and kind willed. Wanting to help and even giving up his own food for others when he felt he could. But he was an odd one. As he began to mature, he changed slightly. He showed respect yet was always alone, never really one for the family he was born in. The family was kind, but to him, there was something that just did not sit right with him. Some times the family would fight. This loving and care-free toddler had become a rather rambunctious and stealthy warrior. The pack of all the rat-folk had invited him to become a warrior and protect their sewer home. He rejected it. from then on the family wasn’t the same. Though they never really got to get together as a family from then on, they all knew each-other. That was as far as it went.
Dragoz was a natural adventurer since he was of age to wander on his own, loving to tinker around with anything. He could making containers for water and food with so little as a single wet log and his own teeth. Having lived underneath a human town then getting accustomed to them. He had developed a friendly attitude towards things or people again, as long as they could not see him fully. He was rather kind, but at the same time, he still had rather feral instincts and was willing to let it out if he felt cornered in a situation.
He had a rather simple and well life for a rat-folk. Once he hit a fine age, he felt as though he should go out and adventure around the world or continent. Having just barely sneaked out of the pack to get out, past the warriors of the pack, before he had realized how different the outside world was. From his original place of birth place in the dark, dank, sewers. As the world changed from his eyes point of view. Stepping out of the sewers he was spawned, and leaning in to his first step out into the wide open, green shaded earth and flora. That covered the ground, though he covered himself with a patchwork cloak to hide his appearance.
The appearance he donned that was of a large rat-like human near 4 foot in stature, messy black fur with his tail tucked under the cloak that hid his features. Though he was bipedal and able to stand upright he never really felt as if he quite would be excepted by the city’s or towns he entered. always hiding and finding scraps of food or anything he could use from a stick, to a knife. everything he found he made use of or ate. Wondering from his home from that first beautiful nature he saw out of the sewer. The brisk breeze and fresh smell. The greens spread in different shades as if it was a canvas that a master painter stroked his brush across. His golden eyes having a glint as he saw the trees, leaves, and different kinds of bushes, flowers, or wild foods. He remembered it all.
During his ways to other cities, he had to not only manage his own image and welfare, but find a way of surviving with all the natural predators. Or anything else that obscures his future. Hopefully he would find a way to defend himself, besides his claws and teeth which have served him well so far. That night his fortune was with him, but not with others. An ear piercing scream shot out from the dark, a faint flickering glow coming from the same direction, as he skittered his way across the ground stealthily as growls of a large animal sounded. Guiding him to find that a rather skilled warrior, eastern in origin, with a single edged, slightly curved blade in his hands, staring down his undoing. A pack of mangy looking, flat faced, pointy-eared horrors of what seemed to be dogs with spots of fur missing, had the warrior surrounded. With swing after swing of a gleaming blade and dog after dog falling to the ground whining with a gash through their flesh, or just lying dead and bleeding out. The blood from the slash spraying in drops on the surroundings.
He finally got overwhelmed. Having to fall to the ground as one dog latched his thigh at an opening, another, his shoulder. The blood stained his traditional looking clothing as his blade fell to the ground with the blood on the blade and another, shorter version got drawn but the warrior stabbing into the head of the dog on her shoulder. But that was the last thing he had done. The rest of the pack came and ripped his body to shreds, shredding the flesh on the warriors bone. Left mangled, to be left for the vultures and soil after they had their fill. Bone showing and meat clinging to it. As the rat-folk stared down at the dog with the shorter sword in it’s head lying dead. Then at the full sized weapon still gleaming from the light of the moon. The flickering light that was there before had vanished. But the rat-folk scurried over, grabbing the two swords and sheathing them then walking to the soldiers remains, looking at all of it. Then he went to the nearest dirt covered splotch of land. He began digging a hole down. Our rat-folk looked back at the torn flesh and cloth his ears perked slightly to catch any suspicious noise. He walked over picking up bit by bit of the remains placing them within the hole but keeping the cloth separate. He covered the hole once all the soldiers remains were in it his nose twitching.
“You were brave, and strong, to you’re last breath,” he said in his kinda high pitched voice.
“Thank you.” The warriors spirit said.
The rat-folk then took the cloth, using whatever he could to make a small sack. Upon finish, he grabbed the longer sword sheathing it, then using it as the stick over his shoulder to carry the sack. Walking over to the ugly, blood soaked mangy mutt that even disgusted him. he grabbed the smaller sword as the dogs head slid down to blade straight off. making a thud on the ground.
“Ew.” He thought to himself as he used left over cloth to clean the blade sliding the cloth down the blade. Now the cloth was stained red as he threw it to the ground, sheathing the tiny sword and tying it around his waist. The tsuba(or gaurd) making a ching sound against the sheath.
“Thank you soldier,” he said. ”This’ll let your life live on in mine.”
He then left for the warriors sake, and his own hoping that that pack of things
would not return. After that night, he went on his way even through the harsh light of day, using the shadow from to hood of his cloak to lessen the impact on his eyes. which also hid his figure. He spared a glance at the sword he had in his hand.
“With this i can survive, I can fight.” He thought.
At that moment he forgot he was walking in the forest. He had gotten a harsh reminder as he walked into a thin-but-tall white barked tree flopping down onto his back. The harsh ground suddenly smashing his back and the sun’s rays beat on his face.
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” He said in quick succession holding his head and grabbing the hood to place it back over his face.
He stumbled to his feet grabbing the sword off the ground with the sack getting up. His back sore.
“Great way to start the day Dragoz…just great.”
He tried walking up and past the trees to find a dirt trail. Leading over to a small, rustic looking country town, he happily approached it. The town with wooden houses laid about the grass, and farms producing crops. What seemed to be a bounty board in the middle of town. Ironically, it was across from a church. He looked around the town seeing many things. A tavern with a sign that said ”Come on in!” in bold letters. A man in a hood shrouded in darkness saying something about his will. As the rat-folk peaked his ears to listen closer he heard the man saying
“My will….my will…! Why? Why! iI’s not my own? It’s not my own!”
Our rat-folks ears fell down as he heard the man. Then shying away. He noticed there was a red haired, battle scarred woman at the bounty board as if guarding it. He ignored the thought of going near her a bit scared by the intimidating presence she held. Walking throughout the town was what he chose to do then. Going to the market, perhaps to look at the good food, or pick up loose change people dropped. He had done it before to get a meal for the day after all.
“Theres a ruin near the town,” a young lady said to another as they sat on a wooden bench.
“You mean the creepy one?”
“Yes. they say there’s all kinds of magic in there!”
“But little green men have been camping in the woods! I’m not going!”
That was all he had the hear. The knowledge that something fun could be nearby perked his interests and his ears. He talked to one of the merchants hiding his face under the cloak.
“Do you know where this ruin is?”The merchant raised a single brow. He seemed to be a rough-and-burly man.
”You want to go there fella? It’s dangerous out there. Green men been spotted runnin’ in these woods.”
“I’ll manage.”
“Okay. On the way out of town into the woods there’s a path that’ll take you right to it ’s front door.”
“Thank you.” He said as he put some golden pieces onto the table and went on his way. Little did the rat-folk know. This was only the beginning of his true journey.