HOME | DD

Description
I made a reference sheet for my wererat Slick, who is a good boi!

BACKSTORY TIME
Ending up as an urchin on the street at a very young age, he can't properly remember his parents, nor say he has ever seen the sea. Eventually as winter set in, he had to find shelter somewhere warm, and his instinct to be near water drove him into the sewers. There, he was found by a pack of wererats which took him in, turning him and raising him as one of their own. Wererats who have given into the curse entirely have feral minds, greedy and merciless. Their intelligence is but a tool for their feral needs. They don't know companionship beyond the pack and strength in numbers, and are unfamiliar with love. They are cannibals, preying on the people in the town above their lair, as well as any scraps of food they can find. Here, he grew up, never resisting the curse and thus one of them. However, something was off...
Elves may mature at the age of 20, but they aren't considered an adult until the age of 100. This is because at around a century of age, they stop having dreams and visions of their previous reincarnation. Slick, being still young for an elf, still gets confronted with his past self. Sane and civilized, and happy. These visions and dreams prevent Slick from going fully feral, and leave him with needs for love and kindness, needs not provided by his kin.

One day, a hunter comes to town, here to deal with the wererat problem beneath people's feet. Exterminating them completely may be hard, but drive back their numbers is within reason. Down to numbers too small and scared to hunt humanoid prey, where they are not predators but pests. During his hunt, his slaughter, he finds Slick. But something is off about this one. He's... Grieving. Distraught that his pack is slaughtered. In tears, clinging to the dead, whilst all others within reason had long fled to deeper caverns away from the threat. The hunter understood that this one was not yet fully gone. He wasn't fighting for sanity, clearly, as he was living amongst them. But still, there was humanity left within him, even if it was but a shred. And that was worth sparing him, for now...
Captured alive, bound and muzzled, he was taken from his home and those who raised him. The reason for his sanity became clear at night, when this elf fell asleep rather than opting for meditation, perhaps not knowing how to meditate at all. And as such came the dreams, the nightmares... A past self, still willing to fight, even if it left Slick in anguish. The hunter tried to sooth him, and to his surprise, Slick leaned into the gentle touch. Much work was left to be done, but the sliver of hope, no matter how thin, was worth it. He'd not put down the beast for as long as there was hope it could be tamed...

D&D character, my take on a bloodhunter of the lycanthrope, and hopefully someone I can someday play! Until then, I will simply draw him.

Description
I made a reference sheet for my wererat Slick, who is a good boi!

BACKSTORY TIME
Ending up as an urchin on the street at a very young age, he can't properly remember his parents, nor say he has ever seen the sea. Eventually as winter set in, he had to find shelter somewhere warm, and his instinct to be near water drove him into the sewers. There, he was found by a pack of wererats which took him in, turning him and raising him as one of their own. Wererats who have given into the curse entirely have feral minds, greedy and merciless. Their intelligence is but a tool for their feral needs. They don't know companionship beyond the pack and strength in numbers, and are unfamiliar with love. They are cannibals, preying on the people in the town above their lair, as well as any scraps of food they can find. Here, he grew up, never resisting the curse and thus one of them. However, something was off...
Elves may mature at the age of 20, but they aren't considered an adult until the age of 100. This is because at around a century of age, they stop having dreams and visions of their previous reincarnation. Slick, being still young for an elf, still gets confronted with his past self. Sane and civilized, and happy. These visions and dreams prevent Slick from going fully feral, and leave him with needs for love and kindness, needs not provided by his kin.

One day, a hunter comes to town, here to deal with the wererat problem beneath people's feet. Exterminating them completely may be hard, but drive back their numbers is within reason. Down to numbers too small and scared to hunt humanoid prey, where they are not predators but pests. During his hunt, his slaughter, he finds Slick. But something is off about this one. He's... Grieving. Distraught that his pack is slaughtered. In tears, clinging to the dead, whilst all others within reason had long fled to deeper caverns away from the threat. The hunter understood that this one was not yet fully gone. He wasn't fighting for sanity, clearly, as he was living amongst them. But still, there was humanity left within him, even if it was but a shred. And that was worth sparing him, for now...
Captured alive, bound and muzzled, he was taken from his home and those who raised him. The reason for his sanity became clear at night, when this elf fell asleep rather than opting for meditation, perhaps not knowing how to meditate at all. And as such came the dreams, the nightmares... A past self, still willing to fight, even if it left Slick in anguish. The hunter tried to sooth him, and to his surprise, Slick leaned into the gentle touch. Much work was left to be done, but the sliver of hope, no matter how thin, was worth it. He'd not put down the beast for as long as there was hope it could be tamed...

D&D character, my take on a bloodhunter of the lycanthrope, and hopefully someone I can someday play! Until then, I will simply draw him.