Keira Blacktalon - Asim al-Wyuli - Wildcat

  • Yay for multiple charries! 😄 Yay for story curves! XD


    Name: Asim (Protector) al-Wyuli Ahmen (son of) Rashad al-Wyuli Ahmen Fahima (scholarly-wise) al-Wyuli

    Species: Desert Bred Wildcat

    Gender: Male

    Age: 20 years/seasons

    Weapon(s) of Choice:

    –Right paw: Arabian Cutlass aka Scimitar:

    --Left paw: A steel tonfa-style katar:
    artwork copyrighted to swordsmith830 of DA

    Physical Appearance: (picture: Another pic: Asim is a graceful looking creature with smooth features and a regal air. He is just a touch above average height for one of his species and is well built, athletic, agile, and a powerful warrior. From the golden fur spotted in mahogany brown, to the handsome features of his face and brown streaked muzzle, he is a beast to be admired. Two of his most notable features include the multi-colored eyes (the left being gold, and the right a cool jade), and his lynx-like ears which sport tufts of a similar mahogany brown like his spots and muzzle streaks.

    Upon his majestic countenance he most often wears vests of dark brown leather studded with steel, and below upon his legs sit sand colored breeches belted by a sturdy and studded black leather belt. Upon his shins he wears dark leather greaves banded with steel much like splint mail. Around his neck sits an amulet of silver which holds a smooth lapis stone which imitates in look and feel a tiger’s eye, though blue instead of brown and gold. It seems precious to him and he is never seen without it.

    When traveling, he carries a pack of supplies and a sand colored traveling cloak with a deep hood. It’s useful for all sorts of circumstances.

    Personality: Asim is a gentle creature, quiet, humble, and most often soft-spoken. Hardly does he disobey orders (unless it goes against his deep rooted sense of morality) and hardly more does he speak ill of others. He is a faithful warrior of his clan but once he left, he vowed he would never return. Often does he give off a sense of gentleness and anyone who meets him usually feels comfortable around him. He is kind, understanding to a fault, trusting and often too amicable for his own good. If confronted he will only stand up if he feels it is necessary, to him any loss of life is something which should be avoided. Hardly ever will his temper be flared, but there are things which can instantly set him off. Cruelness of any sort angers him, and ignorance irks him to no end. One should be well-learned, and if they aren’t, they should hold their tongue. Rude comments and mindless statements are for vermin taverns, not respectable homes and company.

    He is very chivalrous, is always willing to lend a helping paw, and would give the tunic off of his back if he felt it was necessary. He is definitely a kind beast most creatures could get along with, no doubt.

    Biography: Asim was born a male warrior to the Wyuli clan of the deserts and fit into his role well even at a young age. His mother was kind and tender, teaching him to be fair, just, and to never judge too quickly. All beasts deserve understand, after all, each of our paths is different; there is never just one way to travel. He learned well and adored his mother, never having known his father. Fahima, his mother, told him that his father was a great beast, but that he had responsibilities elsewhere. She promised one day he would meet him, and the soothing words of his gentle mother were always enough to ease the wildcat’s fears away in his young seasons.

    He grew with a scimitar in his paw and learned early of a weapon his mother had kept with her for seasons, a tonfa-style katar, similar to the traditional katar of the Wyuli, but slightly different. It was light in the paw, agile, and worked just as well for defense as offense. Asim learned to love the weapon and learned of its fighting style under his mother’s guidance. Just as things seemed to be going well, tragedy struck within the clan. The eldest daughter of the matriarch, Muramin, unintentionally had slain an ally during a duel. The clan leaders, Almas and Rashad were forced to follow with tradition, and banish their eldest daughter to the sands.

    When this happened, Asim felt a deep sadness enter his soul, and he couldn’t seem to pinpoint why. But it didn’t matter, after only a few days, his mother fell ill, and he was forced to care for her day in and day out.

    Her disease was strange, wrought with burning fevers and unbearable chills. She could hardly eat though Asim tried his best to nurse his dying mother back to health. Even the clan healers could not help her, and Asim was forced to watch as his mother’s life, the only relative he loved and knew, slipped away.

    It was upon her deathbed one cold desert night that she confessed the truth to him: that his father was actually Rashad al-Wyuli, the mate of Almas. The meeting hadn’t been intentional, though Fahima never once thought the child she bore of it as a burden. She felt blessed to have given birth to such a kind and caring creature and made Asim swear he would not cause trouble for the secret she’d kept. And within those final hours, she passed on her silver amulet and a ring carved of onyx stone. The craftsmanship was exquisite and Fahima told Asim it was the ring Rashad had given her. If fate hadn’t chosen this path, sure enough, Fahima knew she would’ve wound up as Rashad’s mate. But destiny had different plans, and now that Asim knew Muramin was his half-sister, he understood why he was so sorrowful when she was banished from the clan.

    Asim stayed by his mother’s side ‘til morning’s crimson light lit the dunes afire. She faded away in his arms, his gentle paws clasped about hers as tears formed rivers down his cheeks. He set to the funeral services and buried her in the nearby dunes, in a deep grave. He said his final goodbyes, thanked her for her wisdom and patience, and sought to leave the clan, hoping maybe he could find the sister he never truly knew.

    He didn’t however leave without parting with one of his gifts. Upon the night of his departure, his cloak about his shoulders, he visited Rashad in secret. The meeting was brief; Asim merely stared into the male wildcat’s similarly colored eyes, set the onyx ring upon a nearby stone, and then departed. Not a word was said, but there was understanding in that silent stare, and as his young paws took him to the shifting sands, Asim knew Rashad had known exactly who and what he was. And whether he spoke about it to others or not was none of Asim’s concern, he merely wanted to make sure Rashad knew, and that maybe, deep in his heart, he would regret and mourn Fahima’s death and forsaken love; never having known the son he had all these years so close.

    Asim set to the deserts and trekked afar, seeking out the path his sister had followed. It was strange, it was as if he could feel her at times…where she had been, where she fought. He followed those fleeting feelings and found himself within rolling plains overlooking vast woodlands. Somehow...he knew his sister was nearby. And no matter how long it took, he would find her.

    Asim's Quote:

    Asim's Theme Song: Loss of Me - Final Fantasy XI - you can find it here: just scroll down the list until you get to ‘Loss of Me3’. ^^

  • You made the icon a frowny-face. 😧

    chuckle Anywho, as I said in the PM: Well done. ^__^

  • lol, Thanks. I need to sketch him though…

  • Gah! An artist too! wipes jealousy from chin

  • lol, Yeah, I'm an artist, but not great. I drew Rillgruf's pic, it's posted with his profile next to his desc. 😛

  • I luvs yours and Cyber's and Wolfe's writing Keira. All very talented. Steps out of puddle of jealousy Ewww… Slimy

  • Thanks Snag. ^^ feels special lol XD

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