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Senri Urul
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  • OOC Name: N A K I
  • Posts: 1 (Find All Posts)
  • Rank: Nonpartisan
  • Age & Season: 5 (Spring ✿)
  • Species Equine
  • Lineage:
  • Height: 15.2hh
  • Sex: Stallion
  • Crystals: 10
  • Tag: @[Senri]


Senri 'Greyhawk' Urul

Father: Mazorn 'The Cruel' Urul
Mother: Yavana Drake of the Pyrnan Isles

Paternal Siblings: Maevaran, Morgoth, Iolas
Maternal Siblings: Unknown

Children: None

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OOC & Character(s)


The base of his color lies in a smokey grey-black that covers his frame head to lion-like tail. It's not the colors that make Senri stand out, rather the hair and the clothes and the general aptitude for what he does. Behind his blue-green bangs is a sea-green pair of eyes that constantly have a spark of deviousness playing in them. A smirk is always plastered on his khol lips, and Senri loves nothing more than to show off a few of the scarred markings that litter his body. Received at a young age, his hide is no pristine beauty; its mangled and mauled and designed just how he wanted. Teal tinted hair is often kept short for conveniences sake.

His stature is like a light boned Teke, despite having light draft in his blood. His father was a hulking beast, but his mother held the exotic beauty from the islands in the sea. Senri takes after her only in stature and hair color--the rest is a constant reminder of the damn King who sired him. Another feature from his father is that of the small horns that grow from his skull. Positioned above his brow and in front of his ears, Senri's aren't nearly as grandiose as his sire's had been. The fact this genetic trait had showed up at all was one of the few reasons the bastard had even been legitimized.

Over his thin body Senri wears a coat of black and smokey teal adorned with silver chains, black leather straps, and of course, small greenish gems. At his chest hangs a pendant, in the center bright emerald holds it's place in the circular bauble.


Flirtatious & Vagabond & Selfish & Greedy & Hurt & Stubborn & Silver-tongued

On the outside, Senri is nothing more than a half-drunk pirate to the masses. He puts on a grand air and takes pride in the devious lifestyle he leads. Most of the time "Greyhawk" as some close associates have taken to lazily calling him, comes across as arrogant or selfish; and to some regards he is. But in the end most of it is nothing more than a mask to hide the hurt that he's tried to desperately to shovel down.

You see, Senri was a bastard; not only a bastard, but a bastard to a King whose moniker was 'The Cruel'. And his legitimate older brother, Maevaran Urul, had done nothing but mentally torture young Senri. He drinks to forget, steals to fill a void in his chest, ravages and pillages because he has control of something, even something as chaotic as a raid on an unsuspecting village.Yet despite all of this, there is a far softer side underneath it all. Senri has a fondness for his youngest brother, Iolas, and after discovering him years after fleeing their homeland Senri has bent over backwards to give the boy a decent life.

Make no mistake though, the slyness he exudes comes from courtly training received from an early age. He can still tell you all the rights and wrongs of a political ring, and perhaps he would have made himself a decent politician should things have panned out differently. But the courtly life and intrigues don't please him, they only leave some sort of bitter taste in his mouth at the thought.


Born to Yavana Drake and King Mazorn 'The Cruel' Urul.

From life's first cry, nothing had been simple for Senri. His mother had been a smuggler in her prime, yet here she lay in the cells of some god-forsaken dungeon. She birthed her son in the dark of her prison, only to watch as the guards had pried him away from her arms moments after he'd dropped onto the cold unforgiving floor. They took the babe to the upper floors of the high castle, its tower-like structures reaching into the heavens while the black obsidian-like stones kept the place unnaturally warm through the dead of winter. The guards took infant Senri to the King's chamber, where Mazorn had awaited the delivery of his boy. The King had been told by the soothsayer it was to be a male-child and this had pleased Mazorn greatly. Over the ledge he inspected his newest spawn, ready to drop the babe to the unforgiving sea and rocks below should anything be out of line, should any blemish be marked upon the babe.

Senri had been lucky.

With an approving smile on ebony skin, Mazorn had passed his judgement and handed the babe to the soothsayer to be groomed and given to a wet-nurse who lay in wait. Senri never knew his biological mother, and Mazorn's wife refused to even acknowledge his existence going so far as to make attempts upon his life--only when Mazorn himself stepped in did she cease such violent behavior. But Senri's struggles did not end there. Two months before his birth, the Lady Urul had birthed a legitimate son to the King. He was given the name Maevaran; and Maevaran had inherited something Senri had not--cruelty. It was slow at first, creeping in like a poison but the boy could see that the prince was a monster growing. Like a weed he was, and often Senri would stumble upon the lad harming innocent wildlife.

Only once did the boy raise a hand to his superior. Senri had come across his half-kin attempting to drown a young kitten and snatched the poor thing from Maevaran--in doing so he had cut the prince's skin with his own growing horns. Outraged, the prince cried foul to his mother, and to his father. Lady Urul had Senri whipped while her son and husband watched. Pleased, Lady Urul escorted young Maevaran from the bloody scene whispering pleasantries and promises of treats should he continue 'behaving', but Mazorn stayed. He helped his second son off the ground, ordered the servants to tend to his wounds. When Senri was able to move with out much pain, Mazorn summoned him. He entered the throne room timidly, head down like he always had only to have it raised. His father smiled at him, and it unnerved the boy. He brought Senri to the gardens, speaking curtly of things such as weather and how the boy had been excelling in his studies when they rounded a corner and Senri was struck with a sudden fear.

Maevaran stood with a nasty smile not far from the large fountain in the heart of the gardens, Lady Urul not far behind in the shade of a parasol held by servants sweating in the hot sun. Guards were present, armed, and there by the fountain was a box; Senri didn't need to look to know what was inside, the helpless mews gave it away. Mazorn only stopped walking when he reached the wooden crate. A thick, dark hoof rattled against it, and the King turned to look at his boy.

"Kill them" he ordered "Resist and be killed. The choice is yours my son."

He had tried to do as he was instructed but Senri lacked the cruelty of his father. Picking up the first kitten, he attempted to do the unthinkable but could not. Tears streaked his ebony face, snot-nosed, pleading with his father to let him leave. From the peripheral, a guard stepped forward and struck Senri. Each time he failed or hesitated, the guard would strike him. It continued well into the evening hours, until the last kitten's lungs had been cemented with water and their furry corpses littered the fountain.

Senri was escorted to his room, and the boy refused to leave it for weeks. He did not eat, he did not sleep. There were times he had considered leaping from his high window to the ground below, and times still where the thought of killing his father crossed his groggy mind. He learned to turn a blind eye to the cruelty of the prince, and learned to pretend such cruelty ran in his pure veins. A little piece of him died each day, withering away surrounded by the toxic life that was the Mazorn dynasty.

It wasn't until he was reaching into his teen years did Senri consider leaving. Fear kept him under a tight leash, kept him from ever running as far as he could. Yet, as he slept one night there came a creak of his door alerting him to the presence of another. He feigned sleep for some time, listening closely. They moved with poise, this was not someone who was of noble birth--quickly his eyes shot open and Senri tumbled from his bed. Face to face was he with a cloaked assassin, dagger raised dripping with poison. In a mad dash, he managed to knock the weapon from the assassin's hand, and, in a fit of rage for his own life tossed him from the balcony of his room. He watched in horror as the man, no boy screamed in terror--cut short only by the ground smashing his skull into wine. He did not dash down to check the assassin's belongs, he did not want to know who sent a boy with a poised knife into his room. In some sick and twisted way, Senri already knew. Packing only what he could carry, and taking as much gold as would fit his small coin pouch, the young man dashed off to the docks in the night. So fearful was he, that Senri concealed who he was from anyone who may ask. He dropped his name and took up the moniker Greyhawk for many years.

During his passage to the isles, the ship had been raided by pirates. It is here that Senri's life truly began. Pirate was in his blood, and while the captain rarely took men from ships he raided undeniably he had seen something in young Senri. Through hard work and a wit that made most of the crew's head spin (mind you, it also got in him trouble constantly) Senri found his way to the helm of The Domination

Not long after his ascension, they came upon a strange land. While they dared not get too close, Senri and a small party took a boat to shore. They explored only a few places close to the sea's edge, and it is here, of all places, he finds a curious boy. Cloaked in a similar shade as he, he lacked the adornments of horns and a tail like his own. He was bulky and smaller, most likely caused from mal-nutrition at a young age. He brought the boy to his ship, gave him a drink, and invited him to stay so long as he worked. It would be days before he could get a back-story from the newcomer, and he thanked the sea and the gods and whatever would listen; for sheer luck, Senri had found a kin--blood. His half brother, as he was named Iolas, escaped such a worse fate than he. He spoke of the cruelty of Maevaran when Mazorn had 'perished'. Seeing that the lad was broken, forlorn, Senri did all he could in his power to give him a comfortable life on his ship.

During a smuggler's run, The Domination was flanked by two ships bearing no colors. In the thick of the fog, he and his crew were overrun and he watched in horror as his ship sank beneath the waters off the coast of some unknown land.

As Senri came-to, watching as his ship sank beneath the waters he was helpless to rescue any of the crew stranded in dark water off shore. Few knew how to swim, let alone dodge the flaming debris that littered the sea. Their cries echoed out as the enemy ships disappeared into the night, almost as if they'd been nothing more than apparitions--as if they didn't exist at all. By morning, his eyes burned from the smoke and the sleeplessness despite how heavy his body had felt. Corpses and ashy debris washed ashore, and for hours Senri didn't move. It wasn't until mid-day, when he knew once and for all that his life from before had just burned in front of him, that numbly the pirate turned his gaze from the sea and headed inland. Surely there had to have been a town, a port, anything near by that harbored supplies and enough booze to keep him drunk for the next few days. But as he wandered, it soon became clear that whatever place this was had been abandoned--and in a clearing not far from the strange shore did Senri come across a peculiar thing. A tree, larger than any damn tree he had ever seen, guarded a mountain pass.

He stared at it for gods knows how long, then laughed to himself in his tired stupor. He deduced that this was a dream, or perhaps, the inevitable had happened and Senri was stranded in Jones' locker and this was some kind of stupid joke from the devil of the sea. Soon his amusement turned sour on his tongue and bitter anger had crept its way back into his heart. He looked up at the tree and screamed at it, demanding answers, choking back the tears. Three days passed before Senri had come to the decision to enter, not really knowing what else to do. As he pushed through the first rings of roots, humming some old tune with tears streaming down his cheeks remembering the times he had on the ship--his father figure, the crew, his younger brother--he found himself at the mouth of a land he'd not known existed. Before him stood the Valley, and with a heavy sigh, Senri took his first steps into the uncharted wilds.





ref: yawsyawns