Name: Irvin "Irv" Kestel
Age: Early twenties
Height: 5'8"
Weight: About 170 lbs.
Sex: Male
Species: Coyote
Job: Trades Guard / Gas Guilder / Racketeer
Irv is fairly young, somewhere in his early twenties, though looks
several years older than that. Sunken cheeks and a narrow snout, his
gaunt face is devoid of whatever youthful appeal it might've had only a
few years ago, now replaced by something feral and brutish. His
red-furred eyebrows are thick and fluffy, permanently casting dark
shadow around his yellow eyes, which always seem to have a distant
thousand-yard stare to them. Though this is sometimes covered up by the
pair of black-lensed goggles he frequently wears. Irv is exceptionally
strong for a coyote, though still rather short compared to larger-breed
canines. But his build isn't exactly the male model idea of attractive,
being freakishly toned and flexible, perhaps to the point of it being
rather grotesque to look on.
His coat of soft fur is a dark tone of sandy grey, contrasted by the
paler cream-colored fur down his throat, underarms, stomach, inner
thighs, and also on his forearms and feet. His black-tipped tail is
kept well-groomed and bushy, and has a leather strip tied around it at
the middle of its length. On the outer sides of his upper legs, one
would notice several slashes of white fur very similar to feline claw
marks, and should he be seen topless, one will notice the markings
covering his entire backside as well. He also has a tendancy to
frequently look over his shoulder for no apparent reason, and always
seems to have the subtle scent of smoke and sage about him.
Irv's attire is rather minimally covering, as he puts flexibility and
speed at a higher priority than modesty. His foundational garment is
just a black fundoshi and an armored jockstrap, leaving bare his
muscular thighs, the left one having a knife sheath strapped around it.
His forearms and paws are protected by a pair of ceramic armor
gauntlets, while similar armor makes up his kneepads and calf-guards,
which are worn over tight black leggings going from just above his
knees and down to his feet. Footwear for him is a pair of open-toed
running boots laced over his calves, ankles, and heels, leaving his
blunt-clawed toes bare for additional mobility, his rough footpads and
fur being enough protection from the elements. Covering his top is a
dark grey jacket with several pockets on it, its sleeves rolled up to
his elbows.
Should he remove or unzip the jacket, the advanced ceramic armored vest
which he wears underneath it would be made visible. Tight-fitting to
his every curve, and matte black in color, the vest is clearly
high-tech material - flexible, light, and definitely would draw
unwanted attention if fully uncovered, which is precisely why he wears
a jacket over it. Two other items holstered also underneath
the jacket are a pair of handguns - a bit of a rarity, given the insane
costs of powder ammunition. Although not related to his bodily
appearance but still worth mentioning, Irv rarely travels anywhere without
his motorcycle.
--
Take a beast of prey, give it a sentient mind, and you have Irv.
An opportunist to the core, Irv views the hate and oppression rampant
throughout what's left of the world as something to be taken advantage
of for one's own gain. While others strive to build a better future or
bring about peace, Irv thrives upon everything that would keep that
from ever happening, holding to a feral code of pack ethics which show
nothing but violent disregard for all other forms of authority and
order.
Irv views the world through a haze of predatory logic, seeing all
living things as existing by depriving other living things of their
existance, and he would much rather deprive than be deprived.. By
whatever means necessary. Although violently nihilistic and having an
appetite for bloodshed, Irv isn't a fool. He knows far better than to
recklessly bare his fangs in the wrong place at the wrong time,
especially when he can get more favorable results through deceit and
manipulation, two weapons which are far more deadly than any blade or
bullet.
Having given in to more primal canine instinct, it may be no surprise
that Irv is rather racist towards other species. Felines and reptiles
are among those he dislikes the most, and he usually he doesn't do well
with hybrids now either, though there've been a few exceptions. Irv
doesn't seem to have any particular agenda with his prejudice, he just
arbitrarily hates certain species. Highly mistrustful, Irv sees most
individuals he encounters as either being tools, fools, or enemies, but
he can be pleasant once he runs across someone who thinks might be
worth his time.
However, Irv's alpha male nature sometimes makes him difficult for
others to cope with, and has made it impossible for him to properly
function in civilized society. More than once it's led to him into
physical confrontation, especially with his friend Timber.. Yet Irv
still seems to still be rather close with him nonetheless. Once he
considers someone as part of his pack, Irv becomes intensely
protective, even affectionate. Though he may rough them up from time to
time.
--
Long ago before our story takes place, Irv grew up in an isolated
fiefdom under the rule of the Nedec city-state to the far northwest.
The particular social group Irv was born into was a warrior class of
sorts, a brutal, neo-Spartan elite sworn to the fealty of the ruling
ape warlords. Due to their efficient pack instincts and loyalty,
canines in particular were favored as soldiers for the apes, and Irv's
family had a proud fighting tradition going back for generations, so it
was only customary that Irv be sent into the city militia as soon as he
could walk. It was there that he came to know a certain young wolf
named Timber.
Over the many years of their training, Irv and Timber became close
friends, relying on each other for support during the many hardships
that came with life in the academy. By the time their training was
complete in their early teens and Irv was sent on his first missions,
Nedec and its fiefdoms were in the early stages of what would later
become a terrible civil war. Although trained and conditioned for over
a decade to fight without hesitation or question, Irv was unprepared
for a close personal loss which occured sometime in his first year of
duty. Needless to say, this caused him a great deal of distress which
could've threatened his performance, though this was remedied by his
commanding officers simply pumped up with numbing drugs to keep him on
task. Possibly due to a dosage error or allergic reaction to the drugs,
Irv experienced an emotional breakdown bad enough to severely affect
his judgement.. To the point of deserting, something so unthinkable
dishonorable that it would cast generations of shame on his family and
mark him for death.
Alone, stripped of honor, and lost in a lingering haze of drug-induced
confusion, Irv spent over a year on the streets. Each day became a
deadly game of survival as the civil war raged around him, the rebels
on one side, and his former militia brothers hunting him from the
other. It was around then that he met a couple people who are still
sometimes seen around him today - an older she-wolf named Obsidian, and
Janna, a younger ringtail whom he seems to have taken some sort of
protective nature towards.
Eventually Irv regained contact with Timber and the two began
conducting some clandestine meetings together. Meanwhile, the civil war
in Nedec was getting worse, and regardless of which side emerged
victorious, neither Irv or Timber had any future left in Nedec, and it
would've only been a matter of time before its urban decay claimed them
both. So after some planning, they decided to escape Nedec, something
only a tiny number of exceptionally cunning escape artists had ever
accomplished up until then. Irv gathered up Janna and Obsidian, met up
with the rest of the refugees, and accomplished a dangerous escape in
which they broke through border security and fled into the wastelands.
After a long and treacherous journey, their small convoy came into
contact with with the Trade Lanes, which became their nomadic home for
several years. Ever since his desertion from the Nedec Militia, Irv
held a restless need to be somehow useful to protecting society, or to
contribute to something larger than himself again. This hunger soon
found satisfaction while living amongst Trader society as Irv's militia
experience made him a valuable asset to the Trade Guards and Gas Guild.
Even though he had plenty personal issues with both Traders and guilds,
he did at least enjoy serving as a peacekeeper on the Trade Lanes, once
again having some kind of thing to make him feel useful.
Yet after about three or four years serving the Traders and Guild on
the caravan, Irv and Timber were sent off on a particular mission in
the deep wastes for a few months, one that would leave him a terribly
changed person forever. Up until then, Irv held some form of martial
honor - nothing dashingly noble or knightly, but he did value his role
as a peacekeeper on the Trades, at least believing in the protection of
what little order and civilization there was left in the world. But
after this mission, Irv had become... Something else.
Officially, the mission was nothing more than a routine scouting run.
All records kept by the Gas Guild and the Traders will show that
nothing out of the ordinary occured, and that Irv's change in character
was spurred entirely out of his own instability.
Whatever the case, Irv returned to the Trade Lanes a grim shadow of his
former self. To his fellow Guards and Guilders, the difference was
scarcely, if at all, noticeable. But the few who knew him more closely
would've seen a far darker change in him.
During this time Irv had been gathering up a number of outcast youths
to his company and becoming a protective elder brother sort of figure,
offering them security, shelter, and fellowship.. As well as educating
them in the ways of combat, theft, and sabotage. After several months
of this he was the leader of what was essentially a paramilitary youth
gang of trained thugs, though this organization of his was considered
legitimate due to their apparent loyalty to the Gas Guild.
This brings us to the present.
Underneath the front of an obedient Gas Guild unit is an impressive
racket of extortion and embezzlement spread throughout the caravans.
Abusing his status as a Guard Sergeant, Irv has gathered unpleasant
secrets on several individuals and minor groups who had little choice
but to pay silence fees to him, lest he expose their illegal
activities. And with a performance record as stellar as Irv's, any
would-be accusations of his corruption would be dismissed by his
superiors.. At least at this time. In any case, the sacred oaths Irv
had once took to protect the reconstruction of civilization mean less
to him now than a handful of cash made by slowly tearing it down, one
bloody piece at a time. Whatever it was that Irv came into contact with
in the deep unknown of the wastelands, it has contaminated him to the
core, leaving him a burnt shell of what he once was.
Infamy: 6
Irv is fairly well-known by name and
description in the Trades, mostly as a Trades Guard and Gas Guilder.
Despite the serious danger of his more secret actions, he's only a minor player in the criminal underside of the Trades, but
those familiar with his illegitimate activities know damn well better than to say
a word about it.