Jaskier

## Application Sheet

Jaskier was a silver male wolf with piercing amber eyes. He was Vektren's Warlord, joining them during the Hive Wars. He was created and RP'd by speckledplanet.

## Personality

* ***Debonair***. Jaskier doesn't take *no* for an answer when it comes to striking a deal that will benefit his Gods or his fellow Vektreni. He's charming and dutiful, and he uses looks and tone of voice to smooth over any uncertainty strangers may have when they first meet him. He's captivating to some but an annoyance to others, and his confidence can sometimes be mistaken for ego by those who seek reasons to doubt him. Jaskier doesn't listen to the negatives— he knows that if push came to shove, his word is law and to overrule them would be to seek punishment from the Gods themselves.
* ***Silver-tongued.*** Having been involved in religion since his earliest years, Jaskier speaks like a politician and acts like one too. His words are honeyed and laced with promises, aided by his charisma and desire to please his deities and their children. Jaskier can hold conversations quite easily and often basks in sharing information with his fellow Vektreni, finding it useful to see where his equals lay in terms of their faith and servitude. For outsiders, Jaskier's tongue is a weapon, and he doesn't waste much time determining if a stranger is worthy of his breath or not. Most often, the maggots are sent packing and left to writhe in their own filth.
* ***Methodical***. To rush into things head-first only spells disaster. While Jaskier can be rash and unforgiving, he knows that patience and perseverance will lead him to victory in the end. Jaskier is efficient in his work and keeps a keen eye on the goings-on within Vektren. If he's not actively involved in something of great importance, it can be guaranteed that he's aware and, in some capacity, in control of the final outcome. With a strong head on his shoulders, the silver wolf's first instinct is reason and if all else fails, then blood will follow.
* ***Deceptive***. A trait used only on those who need some *convincing*, Jaskier harbors the ability to spin a story if it will work in his and his faith's favor. He's determined and willing to go the lengths to succeed, and if lying to an outsider to get them to cooperate is what it takes, then so be it. Most of the time these will not be long standing lies, but he believes that no good politician can gain respect without a little bit of sweetening. Likewise, Jaskier recognizes that it will often take more than some pretty words to get someone to follow his lead, so he keeps a catalogue of horror stories and Vektreni says on hand incase his own methods fall short.
* ***Formal***. Jaskier believes that respect is of utmost importance, and it's something he's held onto firmly since his earliest days of walking the mortal world. Even if one does not particularly like or agree with their fellow Brother or Sister, they should still follow through and address them as the Gods intended— as long as they *deserve* that recognition and have not follied their promises and oath somewhere along the way. He uses full titles for his fellow wolves, even those close to him, and nicknames or petnames are often saved for conversations that require some finesse to work around.
* ***Zealot***. All his life the silver wolf has leaned into religion, but only recently has he found his true calling within the walls of the Vektreni cult. He eats, sleeps and breathes the history of the pack, bathes in the words and prayers of his Shunned Ones, and devotes his entire being into further spreading their message and fortifying their truth among the masses. He revels in the opportunity to boast about his faith and often times it is one of the first things he will speak of if talking to someone new, but after that initial judgement, Jaskier will open up a little more and talk about his other, lesser interests.
* ***Assertive***. Beneath the cool, collected exterior of Jaskier lies a stickler for order and power. He doesn't jump to using his physical prowess to bully others but he is not above pairing his words with strength if it means others will bend to his command. He has heavy disinterest in working with those unwilling to see truth or reason, and lashing out is often reserved for those that refuse to work with Jaskier in any other way. He will draw blood and honor the Gods with it if that's what it takes.
* ***Conceited***. With his morals and beliefs heavily so heavily rooted, Jaskier doesn't often feel doubtful or insecure about what he views as the truth. He is confident in his abilities to serve without fault, to work directly with the Patron to honor their Gods is a blessing and something that Jaskier takes a lot of pride in. For someone insignificant to judge or mock him or try to find faults in his message is a personal offense, one that he will make note of if and when they come around to try and plead forgiveness.
* ***Superficial***. The silver wolf keeps most everyone at a distance from his heart. He does not believe he needs intimacy or close connections to feel worthy in life, and as a result, Jaskier has a façade that masks him from the outside world. He has his own thoughts and feelings about quite a lot, but very rarely—if ever— does he voice them to anyone but the Shadow Mother. To know the real Jaskier is dangerous, and for that reason he keeps himself busy with work and his servitude.

## Pre-Group History

Most of Jaskier's early upbringing would be a boring topic for him to discuss if asked, but he is not shy about delving into the matter-of-fact bits that have shaped him and his beliefs if a wolf lends him their ear. Of course, his version is far more decorated than the one below...

He was the youngest of two siblings, born to a pair of leaders who ruled their pack with the promise of prosperity and great tidings for those who followed them blindly. Blood was the mark of one's worth within the walls of the family and its followers, and in the eyes of his parents and the priests, Jaskier's was lowly and unworthy of the title that would eventually be owned by his perfect brother. That moment-difference in age was a point of tension that warped Jaskier's sense of worth early on in his life, and one of the few that sent him to the boiling point much later on.

As a child he was obedient but overshadowed, often left to pick at the scraps of affection loaned to him by his mother while his father took the eldest boy out into the wilds to train and learn of the splendors of their territory. Jaskier was not oblivious to the favoritism, but his mother soothed the wounds of his heart with her love— but it was only a temporary cure, one that would rend his heart open each time his father and mother turned their eyes to the boy who lit up a room with his smile. Jaskier wondered often why they did not beam when he smiled. Perhaps it's why he doesn't have a genuine one anymore.

At around six months, with the blessing of the priests, Jaskier was permitted to become a healer among them once he came of age while his brother began training for his eventual title of Monarch. It was another full season before his own training went into full swing due to the myriad of health risks involved with teaching a child how to use different medicinal plants, but Jaskier took to it quite well. He did not enjoy being dictated or hovered over during his early lessons which is partly why he worked twice as hard to remove the mother-henning, and it paid off.

Not only did he graduate early into the first level of a true priest, for a brief time his family was impressed with him. It added to his obsession to hone his skills further, leading him down a path of shortcuts and workarounds for curatives and salves that would otherwise take ample time to prepare. Those who followed the code of the priests to its fullest extent frowned upon this, but it allowed Jaskier to heal the sick and mend the wounded at a pace that might have otherwise cost them their lives.

With this newfound rank among his parent's people, Jaskier was then introduced into the deeper side of the pack's religion. He'd heard bits and pieces of the legends and his family's faith growing up, but being in charge of the ill and dead meant that Jaskier was required to be "enlightened" with the powers above. At first he had some reservations, but the idea of faith rewarding those who waited and served their lords selflessly led Jaskier down another rabbit hole. He soaked himself in the knowledge of his elders while resenting their craggy practices, but he obeyed each and every whim and remained quiet when faced with things that made him doubt his lords.

For a year and a half he simmered in the shadows while his brother reached for the sun, and each time the moon rose, Jaskier found comfort in the dark to speak to his patrons and ask for their forgiveness and blessing to be seen as an equal. These pleas never came to fruition, and the sunrise only brought venomous fangs that sank into the ever present gouge in his heart.

Several seasons passed before Jaskier replaced his predecessor, earning the rank of high priest around the same time that his brother earned his position as the Monarch's right hand. It led to a planned celebration, a feast during the new moon to mark the birth of a new era. A new era it would be— late into the evening before the celebration, Jaskier revoked his oath and cursed his gods, deeming them false prophets and promises that forced him to fall short in every conceivable way when placed beside his kin.

When the time came to crown the new Monarch, his parents and their advisors discovered the young lord dead.

For a moment, just a moment, they turned to Jaskier. He was both a suspect and the next heir, and for the first time Jaskier's smile was unfiltered. It was cold, calculating, wrapped with hatred and malice and lost love. "I will not be your salvation," he said, and he abandoned his family to let blood stain their holy grounds. They would fight one another to claim the title of Monarch, and whatever fate befell the wolves of the southern pack was no longer Jaskier's problem.

On his own for the first time in his life, Jaskier simply wandered. He was a lost soul, both free and imprisoned, and he searched the far corners of the lands to try and find a new purpose in life. He still believed that faith would steer him in the right direction, that *somewhere*, someone would recognize his divine will and show him the light he'd been denied for so long.

And that somewhere led him to the borders of a pack shrouded in mystery.

At first Jaskier stalked the borders, hiding during the day and emerging at night, watching the fog that claimed the forest and masked the bodies of white wolves who seemed monstrous in their own right. He avoided them, but he used their disturbance to keep eyes on the wolves that walked the woods with purpose. Eventually, with patience and time at his back, Jaskier emerged from the fog to introduce himself as a seeker of true and divine faith. He wanted to serve someone powerful, and he would find that with them.

He officially joined the ranks of the Vektreni wolves in early Fall, and for a full season Jaskier did nothing but soak up the cultish pack's laws and religion, memorizing the Sacred Tenets with his whole body and soul. He was elated deep down to find a pack that held faith so high, a place where power came from not just brawn but brains too. He was addicted, and the liquor of the pack's culture left him stupefied and unsated, always hungry for the next big thing that would steer him in the right direction.

Jaskier often spent his free time bringing offerings to dear Xibalten, offering hymns of praise and admiration to the deities that were so engrained into the dark world of his new religion. He socialized with his fellow Brothers and Sisters but prioritized his teachings and faith above all else. Jaskier lived only to serve the Shunned Ones as he believed they would forgive him for his sins and show him that his efforts were worth it. That each and every trial, every failure, every attempt was *worth it.*

When the steely wolf swore his oath, it was with pride and honor, and Jaskier set his eyes on growing closer to the pack's Gods by further proving his worth as one of their servants. There was no shared blood to outshine him, and he was on equal grounds among his fellow Vektreni. They all sought the same afterlife, the same praise and recognition, and it was only a matter of time before Jaskier's loyalty would bare the fruits he yearned for so long ago. To Jaskier, nothing in life was more promising than an afterlife with his Gods.

His faith, once built on false promise and lies, was now sealed within the shadows that took up residence in the wound of his heart. Poison brought him freedom, and now it would bring him honor.

## Trivia

* His blood-sealing scars are two vertical slashes on his forepaws, which he affectionately refers to as his 'eyes'.

## External Links

* Official Application Sheet
* speckledplanet's deviantART Gallery